Class 7
Elementary School in Konopnica
Lublin District
Konopnica, 13 June 1946
My wartime experiences
Located at the heart of Europe, Poland has gone through various misfortunes and catastrophes throughout its existence. The most recent decimation which occurred in our miserable Homeland lasted several years, from 1939 to 1945. Almost the entire world had turned into ashes and ruins. To describe the course of the war and the damages inflicted on various countries in detail, we must emphasize that Poland had suffered the gravest damages – both in terms of casualties and materials. No man in Poland can say that they had not witnessed or experienced hardship.
While living in the countryside during the war, I experienced all sorts of misfortunes. Some of them were very troubling. The first such incident in our area was the round-up carried out on 16 June 1941 in retaliation for the killing of a German by the name of Bufal – a migrant who had been living in this town for a long time, and had been shot on the road for robbing Poles.
On a Sunday afternoon, the Germans surrounded several villages, set up machine guns and cannons, formed lines and proceeded to walk through the fields, shooting at the escapees. Dogs were howling, children were crying, women were lamenting – everything mixed with the harsh German orders and machine gun fire. The Germans were advancing with great tumult, like a powerful avalanche, coming down from the tops of the mountains into their deep crevices, crushing and destroying everything on its way. People’s screams and cries turned into the howling and roaring similar to that of an enraged animal, desperately trying to survive such an ordeal in one piece. Amidst the clouds of grey dust floating over the road, grim figures of those who got caught appeared every now and then, walking with their heads down to the nearby forest.
Soon everything ceased and we could hear only distant shots. The empty, abandoned village was sad and quiet. The whole village looked lifeless. A grim, continued howling of a dog seemed to forecast death coming for the innocent.
In the evening, a great pit was dug in the forest under the blood-red sunlight. Once it was finished, one of the German butchers had the arrestees stand over the pit, and fired a burst after burst at the people arranged in rows. The dirt was then dumped on top of them, while they were still half-alive. On the following day, the earth on top of the Polish tomb cracked and blood started streaming through the gaps. This grave is located in the Radawiec forest and holds over a hundred people who were killed in retaliation for one German.
The second very sad incident which I saw with my own eyes was the execution of Polish partisans, which took place late in the evening of 11 November 1943. A couple of trucks loaded with Polish patriots, bound together in groups numbering several people, arrived in the Konopnica forest. The trucks made a turn on the forest road and stopped. The Germans pushed the Poles off and made them stand by a grave which had been dug beforehand by other prisoners. A few minutes later, we heard the noise of machine guns and the popping of revolvers. Everything that was happening around us mixed with the grim, quiet groans of the Polish patriots in agony. Looking up, they whispered brief but eager prayers, filled with faith and trust in God, knowing that only He could do anything, because everything was in His power.
Moments later, we heard the humming of the trucks which were driving away, and the triumphant singing of the Germans, who were firing celebratory shots in the air to agitate the Poles. When it got dark and completely quiet, we could hear only the continuous, desperate howling of dogs. A tawny owl started imitating the groans and gentle sighs of the wounded, repeating those sounds a couple of times. Several months passed with only minor incidents, but fear and unease continued.
Then, in April 1944 – in the early morning on Good Friday – two Germans got rode our village on horseback, inspecting the area very closely. Less than an hour later, the sound of several quick shots came from the direction of Pawlin and ceased almost immediately, and all became quiet again. Red missiles were shot from the direction of Radawiec, while armored vehicles, guns and motorcycles started driving on the road and on the side roads, followed by the infantry – all were ready to attack, focused and wary of the partisans who might jump out of the bushes. Having reached the forest near Pawlin undisturbed, they quickly surrounded the forest, arranged the troops in formation and launched an attack. Bullets started hailing down in the forest. The only response from the forest was a couple of shots.
Knowing that they were in a very dangerous position, the partisans attacked one flank of the front in order to get through it and escape with supplies. They were unlikely to succeed. The growing roar of the cannons sounded like a continuous thunder shaking the whole earth. The heated jaws of machine guns were relentlessly breathing fire. Barking and howling violently, they spread fire and death everywhere. Only from time to time, a partisan groaned quietly in a trench under the trees. Lying with his hands thrown to the sides, with a piece of his side torn out, he fixed his gaze on the sky, whispering something – yes, these were his last words, a prayer followed by a gentle sigh that marked the end of his young life.
In the village, the sound of screaming, shouting, crying and lamenting mixed with the unstoppable artillery fire and the roar of machine guns. People hid in shelters, where they were waiting for the fight to end, but that was not what happened. The whole front turned in the direction of the village. The fiery projectiles dropping next to the village set the houses and huge piles of grain on fire, producing flames impossible to put out. Clouds of black smoke obscured the light of the setting sun, while the noise and heat of the fire continued without a break.
The Germans were attacking with a growing force, but the fierce partisans would not give in. Decimated, tormented and blackened by smoke, they continued to defend themselves, even though they had no hope of defeating the enemy. Blood was splashing under the soldiers’ boots and the ground slipped underneath their feet. The whole forest was full of shredded trees, but the small group of brave partisans cut through the front line and quickly managed to get eight carts filled with ammunition, food and the wounded past the Germans.
However, that did not last for long. The Germans immediately attacked the partisans who were forced to immediately flee to the forest. The Germans were shooting at the escapees in the village of Pawlin, while a group of Poles, showered with bullets and grenades, withdrew into the forest. They were about to surrender, when a young partisan ran out of the trenches – barefoot and without a hat, covered in mud and blackened by smoke, holding a grenade in hand – and started fearlessly running towards the countless Germans. He kept throwing grenades, filling the battlefield with corpses. He disappeared amongst the German troops which dispersed for a moment. The young man felt no fear and kept walking. Suddenly, a grenade thrown by a treacherous German hand landed next to the boy’s feet. The explosion shook the earth and severely injured the young hero in the head.
Upon seeing the boy get wounded, the rest of his colleagues started to fearfully gather in a tighter group. They put on their stuff, collected their remaining strength and attacked the German infantry which became still for a moment, not knowing what was going on. Only after the partisans began sneaking through their lines, did they start chasing them – but in vain, as nearly all of them escaped, leaving behind only corpses of people and horses, as well as damaged carts.
Late at night, the Germans left the houses which were still burning and the damaged forest. Dogs were howling on top of the piles of rubble and ashes. Crows circled in the air, cawing incessantly, as they could smell their favorite food. On the next day, mothers, fathers and wives of the murdered partisans came for their bodies. They took their loved ones away and buried them in cemeteries.
The last misfortune I experienced was the battle between the partisans and Germans who were gradually departing from our country. For two days I sat in a dark cell, barely eating, while bullets were flying all around us. On the third day, the battle began to die down, and the Soviet troops appeared on the roads, to rid Poland of the Germans together with the partisans. Later on, they were assisted by the Polish army.
As you can see, despite these great misfortunes which befell our country – despite Majdanek, Auschwitz, Dachau, and other camps set up by the Germans and scattered around Poland – in every Pole’s soul there was a spark of hope, which needed only a bit of air to fill the Polish hearts with courage and bravery. They didn’t lose their spirit despite knowing how strong the enemy was. They set out to the forests, where they continued to guard their country.
In 1944, the first rays of freedom began at the liberated part of our Homeland. The Polish flags fluttered as every Pole sang joyful songs praising the partisans and our Homeland – restored after a great fall, liberated from the shadows of enslavement, and ready to look upon the world in a different light.