5.
Polish Amnesty in the USSR
The fixed mosaic of one's
destiny is
filled with tiny blocks of events.
Charles Reich
Polish Amnesty in the USSR was officially
announced on 30th August 1941. A Polish Embassy was
re-established in the Soviet Union at the concentration
point of Buzuluk. It was decided to create several
outposts in remote areas of the USSR where deported
Polish families could get assistance. At this time Soviet
troops were still retreating as German forces advanced
deeper into the vast USSR territories.
With British assistance, plans were formulated by the
Polish and Russian Governments to immediately organise a
Polish Army in the USSR of former Polish prisoners, who
were being released from 138 Russian Jails and forced
labour camps. The re-established Polish Embassy attempted
to gather these released Polish men. A steady stream of
emaciated Poles, freed from detention centres scattered
over a vast area, was placed under the command of General
Wladyslaw Anders, who had himself been released from
prison where he had been awaiting imminent execution.
With General Anders In his prison cell was our uncle.
Colonel Nikodem Sulik, who likewise was sentenced to
death for his activities In the underground resistance
movement in Poland. In spite of prolonged torture, he
steadfastly refused to incriminate other Poles Involved
with the resistance against the Soviet occupying forces
in Poland. General Anders remembered Colonel Sulik and
secured Uncle's release through swift, personal
intervention, before the Soviets could carry out his
death sentence.
The newly-formed Polish Army in the USSR was desperately
short of officers. Their non-appearance was most
disturbing. Only two of the 14 generals imprisoned in the
USSR had returned, both In a state of extreme exhaustion.
From 300 high-ranking Polish officers retained in the
Soviet Union internment camps, only six were released.
There was no news of the other 294 officers, who were
with the 15,000 Polish officers captured by the Soviets
during the 1939 war, and were detained in the state of
Ukraine at Starobielsk, Kozielsk and Ostashkov camps.
Polish authorities became particularly concerned for
their safety when only a small party of Polish officers
imprisoned at Grazovec camp, removed earlier from
Kozielsk, Ostashkov and Starobielsk, appeared. These men
reported being transferred from these three camps In
March 1940. Soviets considered that these individuals may
be likely to collaborate with the Communists. Any
knowledge of the remaining missing Polish officers was
repeatedly denied by the Russians.
General Anders, hard-pressed to staff the new Polish
army, established a special search agency of his own with
the sole purpose of locating the missing officers. This
office received numerous inquiries from families and
friends of the missing servicemen. Likewise, Mother wrote
a letter inquiring about Father's and her brother's
whereabouts.
From all this correspondence received by the search
officers a clear picture emerged. All missing men from
the three camps in the Ukraine stopped writing home
before the middle of April 1940. Our father wrote last on
8th March 1940.
Captain Czapski released from Grazovec Camp, and a former
prisoner of camp Starobielsk, knew personally many of the
missing officers detained with him. He testified from
personal experience that his camp had been evacuated in
the spring of 1940, March-April, during which period
prisoners were deported from that camp in groups of
200-300 men, under strong NKVD (KGB) guard. They were
taken to the nearest railway station by train. These
extensive inquiries from the Polish authorities were
repeatedly met by complete silence or evasive answers
from the Russians. On 14th November 1941 the Polish
Ambassador, Professor S. Kot, had an audience with Josef
Stalin in Moscow. He was told that all prisoners had been
released. Next, General Sikorski himself met Stalin at
the Kremlin on 3rd December 1941. Stalin informed him
that all the Polish officers had escaped. General Anders,
present there, asked where could they have possibly
escaped to. He was told they had escaped to Manchuria. It
was clear now that S
Meanwhile, on 22nd November 1941 the Polish Embassy in
the USSR advised Polish deportees to head south through
Novosibirsk, where another Polish outpost was created.
With this announcement of amnesty a large exodus began
from various remote areas of the USSR such as
Arkhangelsk, Vorkuta, the Ural Mountains, Siberia,
Kolyma, Irkutsk and Akmolinsk, which was the nearest
Northern Kazakhstan centre from our collective farm of
Kaztsic.
Only families able to secure a special permit from their
local NKVD could purchase railway tickets. Only those
able to pay for these tickets could get them. Those able
to meet these requirements headed south on their own
Initiative to be near the Polish army. Over a million
Polish citizens unable to leave their settlements
remained in the USSR.
Some trains carrying Polish families were stopped by
Soviet authorities at Kuybyshev, Tashkent, Bazulak,
Bukhara, Karshi, Guzari, Ashkhabad and Kermene. Numerous
families were distributed anew, this time among several
collective farms in Uzbekistan. These people were
directed to build their own clay huts with tools
provided. There was a great shortage of food and epidemic
diseases spread rapidly. Typhoid, cholera, measles,
scarlet fever and persistent diarrhea killed many Polish
children and adults. Drinking water was contaminated,
there was no sewer, and toilet facilities were
non-existent. Many thus perished in their quest for
freedom.
The Polish Embassy in the USSR and the different outposts
in various Soviet states had a mammoth task in organising
distribution of urgently required food, clothing and
medicines. Relief supplies were provided by the United
Nations Refugees' Relief Agency (UNRRA). At the various
Polish relief centres in Siberia, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan
and elsewhere, soup kitchens were organised. The Polish
army also opened a number of children's orphanages for
those unfortunates whose parents had died from the
widespread epidemic diseases. Many of these children were
very emaciated and ill on arrival at these institutions.
Some were admitted into temporary hospitals staffed by
army doctors and nurses. Large numbers of orphans died in
Uzbekistan before they had a chance to leave the USSR for
the free world. Meanwhile, many transports of Polish
civilians who had obtained the necessary NKVD permit
continued arriving in Uzbekistan to join their husbands
and other relatives near the Polish army.
As long as the Soviets were in retreat against the
advancing Germans they were preoccupied with their own
urgent problems of war. They were co-operative and did
not try to interfere with the Polish relief agencies in
the USSR. However, as soon as their fortunes were
reversed and the Russians were defeating the Nazis, their
attitude towards Poles changed. Some Polish centres were
closed and Polish delegates were arrested. Under these
circumstances everyone was keen to leave the USSR at the
earliest opportunity before the imminent departure of the
Polish army for North Africa, the Middle East and Italy
to reinforce the British forces there.
Our bus and train journey to Akmolinsk went smoothly. We
presented ourselves on arrival there to the Polish
outpost, the Delegatura. Here we were accommodated in a
large building, where several newly-arrived Polish
families were sleeping on the floor. We were supplied
with hot soup, tinned food, bread, tea, even some sweets
and chocolate. Unfortunately, our digestive systems were
unable to cope with richer nourishment, after so long a
period of deprivation. We developed persistent diarrhea,
so had to carefully limit our food intake. With
medication, rest and balanced nutrition at Akmolinsk we
gained the physical strength we would need for the two
month journey to Uzbekistan.
After three weeks the escort sent by Uncle Sulik arrived.
This Polish lieutenant was given special leave from the
army to accompany his own wife with two children and our
family to Tashkent, closer to Kermene where Colonel Sulik
was one of the commanding officers of the Polish army.
Other army units were stationed at Guzari and Ashkhabad.
Before our departure we received warm clothes, blankets,
tinned food and three bags of dry, toasted bread
(soohurkee) , also essential medicines for our long train
journey to the south. This journey was to last until
August 1942. We had to change trains frequently, because
of the varying width of rail tracks In the USSR. At every
railway station we faced long queues for tickets, where
numerous waiting families slept on bare floors.
Conditions were filthy. People were infested with hair
and body lice. There were no proper washing facilities at
the stations and toilets were seldom cleaned. Infections
spread like wildfire among the waiting travelers. Some
people were too Ill and exhausted to continue their
journey and many passengers died as they waited to
purchase their train tickets for the next stage of their
trip.
It was essential to obtain a special certificate from
health authorities at each station, stating that our
clothes were disinfected and that we had a bath in a
public bathhouse, before train tickets could be purchased
to proceed further. We attended such an establishment
only once during the whole time. On other occasions
Mother bought train tickets straight away by bribing the
ticket issuing officers with tobacco and vodka. She was
well prepared for these eventualities, equipped with a
good supply of both commodities. Mother understood the
Russian mentality and acted accordingly. This contributed
greatly to our survival, as did her assertiveness and
quick responses to new situations. To our mother's
incredible desire to survive, my brother Alek and I owe
our lives and freedom.
In every train we had to fight for a seat. Aggressiveness
usually paid off in securing a seat, with our
lieutenant's help and Mother's assertiveness. The Russian
trains were terribly overcrowded. Many passengers stood
in the spaces between the seats so that those occupying
seats were hard-pressed to find a space for their feet on
the floor. The toilet facilities were difficult to reach,
often out of order and in a filthy state. The stench was
quite nauseating with many refugees in transit suffering
from dysentery.
Most railway stations had hot taps from which travelers
filled their thermoses and mugs. We soaked our toasted
bread in hot water before eating. At Novosibirsk we
waited for almost a week. Here one bag of our toasted
bread was stolen, much to our regret. In all large
stations where we changed trains there was a restaurant,
which sold hot Russian soups such as borshch' a beetroot
soup, 'kapoosnyak' a cabbage soup, and 'shchuf' wild
spinach soup. Queues were long, but patience and
persistence usually helped in securing nourishment. We
took it in turns to queue. Hot soup revived us, keeping
up our spirits and our determination to continue our long
journey. At some stations local farmers sold milk, eggs
and home-baked bread. Occasionally we bought some of
these items for a treat. We were fortunate to have
Russian roubles, which Uncle Sulik had sent us through
our escort. When we finally tried to board our train at
Novosibirsk, there was such a terrific rush to secure a
standing place that several people collapsed and were
trampled by the surging crowd. It was survival of the
fittest on these occasions. We were grateful to have our
lieutenant with us to pave the way.
After a long and arduous train journey of over two months
we finally arrived in the state of Uzbekistan at the
Tashkent railway station. A Russian officer, a fellow
traveler, warned us to watch our luggage carefully in
this notorious city of thieves. It was now the 7th of
August 1942. Nearly four months had passed since we had
left Kaztsic. After a telephone call to the Polish Army
Headquarters at Kerrnene. our uncle dispatched an army
lorry to take us and the lieutenant's family to an army
base camp for arriving Polish civilians. This transit
camp for Polish refugees in Tashkent consisted of several
large army tents, placed over square areas of dug out
clay. Here we slept on army stretchers for two weeks. We
obtained army food rations and medical care. It was
wonderful to rest there, secure in the knowledge that we
were under the Polish army's protection. Our traveling
was over for the time being.
During this brief period Colonel Sulik paid us a few
short visits. We were delighted to meet him again. He was
extremely happy to have managed to help us to arrive
safely. Indeed, we were fortunate to have received this
preferential treatment.
A fortnight later we left for Kermene. There we initially
shared a small flat with Uncle Sulik and we talked deep
into the night. There was so much to relate to one
another. The last time we had seen our uncle was in the
autumn of 1939, when he had called at our home in Grodno
in disguise. He was then on an underground resistance
assignment. He had announced his presence under an
assumed name of Ladyna. However, I had recognised his
voice and said so. Mother, feeling concerned for his
safety, had insisted that I had been mistaken.
At Kermene Colonel Sulik was deeply disturbed about the
possible fate of the large number of missing Polish
officers in the USSR. The victorious Russians were
succeeding in repelling Nazi Germany's forces from most
of their vast territories, but the Polish-Soviet
relationship with our compatriots in the USSR continued
to deteriorate. The Soviets were no longer very
accommodating. Uncle informed us of the Impending
evacuation of the Polish army and civilians through the
Caspian Sea to Pahlevi in Persia, now called Iran, and by
road to the Russian border city of Ashkhabad, where
another Polish army garrison was stationed. Polish army
command
feared that the Soviets might soon close their border
with Persia to cut off the Poles' exit to the free world.
In view of these circumstances Uncle Sulik persuaded
Mother to leave us at the Polish orphanage about 25
kilometres from Kermene. Approximately 300 Polish
children of this institution were under the Polish army's
protection. He considered this would ensure our
evacuation from Uzbekistan in early autumn. Mother agreed
to this suggestion reluctantly. We did not wish to be
parted now, after struggling together In adversity over
the past three years in the USSR.
The orphanage building was a large clay abode in a rural
area, surrounded by Uzbek-owned market gardens, where
they grew melons, cucumbers and loganberries. These were
very tempting to starved Polish children. The boys and
girls slept on straw-covered floors in separate, long
dormitories, each provided with an adjoining room for
staff. An outside well provided us with drinking water.
We washed ourselves by the well and our clothes in a
nearby stream. Toilets were simple dug out hollows in the
earth outdoors, screened off with calico. Flies were
abundant everywhere as the temperature was still high in
the late summer. We soon contracted dysentery from the
other children, who relieved themselves everywhere in the
open, usually unable to reach the primitive toilets in
time.
Every day dying babies and starving Polish orphans were
handed over to the staff of the orphanage by desperate
parents and army personnel. Many children were emaciated,
walking skeletons suffering from chronic dysentery. The
worst cases were admitted to an army hospital, others
remained in the orphanage. We became accustomed to living
with death all around us, because someone died every day.
We received army rations to sustain our weak bodies, but
we were unable to absorb the nourishment provided.
Luckily, with Uncle's assistance, Mother obtained the
position of the Matron of the Polish orphanage hospital.
Her nursing qualifications once again helped her, this
time to be reunited with us before our imminent departure
from the USSR. Hygiene was difficult to maintain in our
primitive conditions. The constantly arriving new orphans
were Infested with head and body lice. To control these
insect infestations clothes were regularly disinfected
and our heads were shaved. This gave us an appearance of
inmates of a concentration camp, especially as we were
reduced to mere skeletons.
Just before our departure, slightly ahead of the Polish
army's evacuation, Mother was issued with a British army
uniform like those worn by the rest of the Polish army
personnel in Uzbekistan. She was officially designated as
'The Chief Medical Officer', the person in charge of our
orphanage's transport. She was instructed by army doctors
on the procedures to be followed with the very sick
children in her care. There was no trained doctor with
our transport, so Mother was entrusted with the Immense
responsibility of caring for about 300 people.
***
|
