The author was born on 10 May 1925. Before the war he had lived in Zawiercie where his father ran a photographic business. During the occupation he went to a secret school, In 1942 he was sworn into the Home Army in Zawiercie. In 1943 he was arrested and taken to the prisons in Opole and Mysłowice and then to the concentration camps at Auschwitz‐ Birkenau and Mauthausen.

It was still September when the notice boards told us of the first demands of the German occupation authorities. The death sentence was threatened for possession of fire arms, radios, cars etc. We were told also when the schools would reopen. We went to school for a few weeks and then were informed that the schools would be closed for an indefinite amount of time. It was clear that this meant until the end of the war. I remember standing in front of the school when the priest Całusiński and Professor Woźniak came and said ‘Look boys, there is nothing to stand here for. We are going to have to teach you in secret, that is all. Come to our homes for your lessons.’

That is what some of us did as from the very next day. For maths, Polish, foreign languages and history we went to Father Całusiński. Professor Woźniak took care of the rest. When he left Zawiercie, the priest taught us everything at his home in ul. Piłsudskiego. Sometimes his brother Zdzisław helped.

During lessons, one of the students kept an eye out on the street to make sure that there were no Germans around.

I then worked with my father in his photography business. Sometimes I served Germans and this helped me learn German. When I was free, I spent time with friends. We were aged from 14 to 17. When the weather was good we would go swimming at Kądzielów. There was a pool here next to the windmill. The pine trees offered shade from the sun and the air there was wonderful.

When the weather was bad we organised dances and had some records of Mieczysław Fogg. We also organised meetings with our friends and to do sports but our meetings were not only for fun and sports. We spend a lot of time on reading we read the underground newsletters and listened to the news from London. I secretly listened in my father’s laboratory.

During lessons at the priests’ home I received newspapers called ‘Płomień’ (Fire) and later ‘Niepodległa’ (Independence). That was how I met a friend of his brother called Zdzisław Piotrowski. After I had seen him several times, he brought me packets of newspapers every few days. Through my friends, we started to distribute them. They gave them to their families and friends who passed them on further.

After a while one of my friends said that he could not do this any more as he had got a job with the German gendarmes as a translator. We were more shocked about his attitude than this news. We were also afraid that he would betray us. Later we learned that he said nothing against us but he completely broke contact with us. After the war he escaped with the Germans from Poland.

More and more people were interested in the newspapers as friends from the scouts got to know about it. When the Germans ordered people to surrender their radios, my father did not comply. He handed in one, but kept one. The radio was hidden in his dark room and it was there that we listened to foreign broadcasts. The most important news was written down and we gave this information to the priest and to Piotrowski. It became harder to listen to the radio in the dark room – and more dangerous. We had to find somewhere else. The Germans were going mad with mass arrests and deporting people for forced labour in Germany. Spies were everywhere.

One day I was returning home when we were surrounded by German police. Shouting and shoving us, they drove us into the streets by the railway line near the grave of the unknown soldier. There were many people there. On one of the trees near the church I saw a hangman’s rope. I realised immediately that the Germans were going to execute someone. Shortly afterwards, a car arrived and a thin man in working clothes with his hands tied behind his back was brought out.

The crowd was surrounded by the police, gendarmes and Gestapo. They had rifles. The victim was brought to the tree where one of the Nazis read the sentence. It was something like this. Surname, name, date of birth etc was sentenced to death for belonging to the secret organisation White Eagle and for acting against the German people and German authorities. Once the sentence was read, the prisoner was placed on a stool. He shouted ‘Long live Poland’. The Nazis started to shout. One of them put the rope around his neck and another kicked the stool away. That was the first time I was a witness to the political murder of a Pole. It was also the first time that I felt real and deep hatred and the desire for revenge.

Some months later in Sosnowiec I had to watch another murder. I went to see my family there. From the station we were driven to the square near the synagogue. The execution happened exactly the same way as in Zawiercie. I was then more or less fifteen. The sight of both executions made a huge impression on me and formed my psyche. I turned my head and closed my eyes as I did not want to watch how this person was killed. Maybe because I was still young, I felt the need to do something even though I knew precisely what the price could be.

One day the Germans put up some posters showing destroyed towns and British planes above them. The words below were ‘England, this is your work’. This poster was also put up on the board in front of the place where my father worked. Marian, who worked for my father, and I, changed it to say ‘Hitler this is your work’. That day we were at work until late in the evening. Marian wrote in big letters in ink Hitler and I put glue on the back of the paper. Seeing that the street was empty, I ran to the poster and changed it. The following day we were pleased to see how people smiled when they saw the poster. Around ten in the morning a group of Gestapo personnel arrived and photographed the poster and then took it down. For the next few days we were in a panic, we hoped that there would be no retaliation.

Life got harder. Rations were reduced. There were more and more round ups in the street. People were taken to forced labour camps. Sometimes I took my bike out into the countryside looking for food. Sometimes I was able to buy some milk and butter.