The author was born in 1927 in Brudzewice in Kielce province. In 1942 he went to work in Reichhennersdorf (today Przedwojów, south of Kamienna Góra) in Silesia. He volunteered to go instead of his mother. In 1944 he was arrested for having a hand written plan of the place where he worked.
During the round up of 24 February 1942, my 44 year old mother was captured and taken to Opoczno. People who had been captured in this way were detained in various places, one of which was the elementary school in ulica Tomaszewska. They questioned them to find out who they were and offered to exchange older people for younger ones as they needed young, healthy people who were fit for work. The plan was to take them from Opoczno by train on 1 March 1942. My father went to the deportation group and requested that they release his wife as she needed to look after young children. They said that they would release her in exchange for someone younger. As the date of departure approached, our family was in a panic. Other people’s children had already offered to exchange themselves for their parents. My father did not know what to do so, he felt pity for his children but more for his wife. He gathered us all together the day before the transport. He started to cry. He said that it was a pity for every child, but one of us needs to go to Germany in place of our mother. We all cried. The hardest thing to decide was who should go. My father said that 20 year old Stasiek is the oldest son and he was necessary on the farm. 17 year old Józiek had health problems, he was often sick and it would be difficult for him to survive in Germany. Fifteen year old Janek is a bit too young for heavy work. He did not think that the Germans would make this exchange for our mother. The other children were too young. My father asked us what to do. Stasiek was happy as my father looked at the others and not at him. Józiek stayed silent. Then it was my turn. I said that I thought I was too young for heavy labour but perhaps I could do some supplementary work. We also needed to consider that perhaps I would not return as it would be difficult to survive the war there. I said that if our father thought that I should be exchanged for our mother then I would do it. At that moment I was afraid but I also felt like a hero. I thought that I was not necessary in this family and that maybe they wanted to get rid of me. On the other hand I felt as though my mother’s freedom was thanks to me and that I was a hero for doing this. My mission was to help my mother! I said loudly to everyone there ‘I will go instead of mummy!’
The next day I went to the deportation committee in Opoczno before ten in the morning. I did not sleep all night, I had a bad feeling. Maybe I was condemning myself to all sorts of horrors at the hands of the enemy.
So my father took me by cart. I took some clothes and food. My father gave me 250ml of vodka just in case things got bad. Goodbyes were difficult, they were all terrified and ashamed. As we drove to town I looked at everything en route – the trees, the people, the buildings and the road. I thought that this would be the last time I saw them.
It was difficult to talk to my father. He said various times that he could not believe that things had come to this, that he had to take his son for forced labour to Germany. They took his wife and what was he supposed to do? He told me to write as soon as I got there as everyone would be worried. In any case it was almost March and the weather was getting better. It would be easier to survive in the good weather. Then he worried that the Germans would say that I was too young and they would take his wife anyway. ‘They are taking my wife – my God, what times!!!’
He did not spare me his thoughts. He did not know how many years they would keep me for. It was a price he had to pay to get mother out.
We got to Opoczno around 09:30. My father took me to the deportation committee and said that I would go to Germany in place of my mother. After a short discussion, they agreed. They brought out my mother in order to say goodbye to me and I joined the people in the gym who were going. I met various people from my village here.
Around mid day we left. We marched from the school in file according to a prepared list. Germans guarded us. They took us to the station and we were loaded onto wagons. I could not speak to my parents again but I did manage to wave to them from a distance. When we left the town, there were many people and we felt as though we were going to our execution.
The passenger train wagons filled up. There was an armed guard in every wagon. We travelled via Tomaszów Mazowiecki, Koluszki and Piotrków Trybunalski arriving at Częstochowa. We were put in a column as though on parade and taken to barracks guarded by the police. There were old bunks in the barracks. We got hot turnip soup with horse meat once a day. After two days a list was prepared of people that needed to be checked by a doctor. They formed us up in a column and took us to another barrack. The doctors had a look at us there and our clothes were disinfected. Then we were taken to another barrack.
The next day, under armed military guard, we were taken to the train. We could often hear firing at people attempting to escape. At the station we were put in passenger cars on a long train. From there we went to Breslau (now Wrocław). At Breslau we were counted and then taken to barracks like those in Częstochowa. We were given a soup made from beets. Here there were no soldiers as their place was taken by armed Ukrainians.
The next day, groups of 50 ‐ 100 people were formed up and taken in stages to trains with which we were going to various parts of Germany. I was taken to Wałbrzych and then in a group of around twenty to Landeshut (Kamienna Góra) and from there we were taken in passenger cars to the place where we would work.
On 7 March 1942, at 15:00, I found myself in Reichhennersdorf, just south of Landeshut with two of my friends from Opoczno. We were taken to a farm belonging to Gustav Alt where we were to work.
The Alt family seemed as though they could not care less. They expected someone who was bigger and stronger, more capable of work. They took me to a small room with a small window. The room had a bed, table and a small heating stove which I never got to use. There was a picture of the Holy Mother on the wall. Once I had unpacked and washed they invited me into their home for a meal. This was the only time I ate with them, from then on I ate in my room. Gustav Alt asked me things I did not understand. He showed me his farm which was made up of barns, six cows and two bulls, ten pigs, hens and geese. This was an average sized farm of around 12 to 15 hectares in which two older people were working. The farmer was tall and thin, he was around 180cm tall and was over seventy. His wife was fat and around 155cm tall. Her face was round, she had a long nose and was over 60. They needed additional help.
When I went into the farmyard I noticed that there were high hills around us with forests and the snow was still visible. The village was in a valley. A stream flowed through the village which fed the river Bóbr. The road was windy and carts from other farmers were using it. It was a strange yet interesting scenery for me. I thought that this was a good place to sit out the war in safety. I started work immediately. The boss asked me to do various jobs related to the animals. I got up at six and went to bed at ten in the evening. There were no set hours. In the summer I worked from dawn to dusk.
After a couple of days I found out where my friends from Opoczno were working. They were only around 200 metres from me. At the beginning it was difficult to understand the farmer, he spoke German and I did not yet understand this language. It was possible to understand through sign language what was needed. After a while I started to understand more and more. After a couple of months I understood as far as work was concerned.
In the beginning I did not know what I was allowed to do and what was forbidden. Could I have Sundays off, go to church, meet my friends. No‐one told me. So I stayed on the farm and did not go anywhere. Thanks to contact with other Poles working there, I learned what the rules were. Adam Ziętek was a Pole who had been there from the beginning of the war and he spoke very good German. He told us what was going on and gave us instructions. There were several other Poles here too. I was pleased to get to know them and no longer felt alone in this difficult situation.
After two weeks the farmer took me to Landeshut which was 3km away. They took my photograph and made some identity documents. I received a photograph and a couple of pieces of material with a large letter P. I had to stitch them to my clothing on the right hand side. They showed me my documents but the farmer kept them.
I missed my country, our village and my home. I knew that my parents were worried about me and that they missed me, as I missed them. In the first letter I told them not to worry, things were okay. Then I waited for a response. One evening the farmers invited me into their home and gave me a letter from my parents. They told me to open it and read it. At the sight of the letter I burst into tears and could not read through my tears which fell onto the paper and made the writing illegible. After a long while I read the letter. They asked me what had happened at home and why I was crying. I told them that everything was OK. There was nothing else I could say. The next letter was given to me after evening meal just before we went to bed and this time they did not ask me about my parents.
I missed home. I thought of ways to get away. I talked about this with my friends who thought the same as I. Then I had an idea. If I cut off a finger from my left hand whilst I was chopping wood then I would no longer be capable of work and they would have to send me home. However several days went by and they did not ask me to chop wood. One day I told my friends my plan. The next day one of them did this. I was very angry at him. He was taken to hospital, received medical care but they did not send him home but to another farmer. After a while his finger improved and he was working the same as before.
My parents often asked me to tell them about the place I was living as it was difficult for them to image it. In my free time, I drew a plan in pencil of the farm where I was working alongside other Poles, Ukrainians and Russians. I did not finish it and put it under the tablecloth to finish it later and then I forgot about it. This would have very unpleasant consequences and I will return to this later.
It was mid April by the time the spring arrived. The snow melted revealing the fields and meadows. Work needed to be done in the fields. Most pulling work was done by cows and bulls. My farmer had two bulls. I learned how to tie them to a cart and work with them in a field. They were strong but very slow.
Next to the building, on the south side, there was a large meadow and beyond it there was ground used for growing crops. This was where I spent most of my time from the spring until the late autumn. There were lovely views of the village of Reichhennersdorf and part of the town of Landeshut.
During the week, armed guards with dogs took a group of around 200 prisoners to the quarries. They were probably prisoners from one of the sub camps of the Gross‐Rosen concentration camp. I could see that these men were starving. They returned around 16:00. Those at the rear were always supporting others so that they did not fall. It was a depressing sight.
Work on the farm was hard, especially as more and more was required of me. Apart from the heavy labour, I was not permitted even a small break. All the field work needed to be completed by November and then there would be snow and frosts. From 15 November to the end of March I worked in the forest. This was the worst work as when trees were cut, snow fell on my head, clothes and boots. Everything got wet, I had nothing to change into and there was nowhere to dry it. Food was average, sometimes it did not taste very good and was insufficient for the work they needed me to do. I was paid pocket money in German marks although I did not need it as there was nothing to buy.
Time went slowly as summer turned to winter and back to summer again. All the time I missed home. Restrictions got worse. The German neighbours of my farmers told me that I had to be careful with them as they were nasty people and Nazis. I thought that this was jealousy amongst neighbours then I understood that this was as a result of what was happening at the front. After each defeat, the Germans treated the foreigners amongst them worse. They frequently searched my room, I do not know what for. They opened my letters. I was moved from my room to the attic. I slept under only one blanket. They controlled where I was all the time. They frequently shouted that Poles and Russians are pigs and bandits. After a while they said the same of me. Food got worse. The other farmers behaved much better than mine.
Despite the restrictions, I was still able to see my friends on a Sunday and go to church and for a walk. I could not leave the village or go for a bike ride. After 20:00 I needed to be at home. We learned about what was happening in the war from Germans who had good relationships with Poles. Some Germans 61 criticised the Nazi treatment of other countries. They were convinced that they would lose the war.
At 07:00 on 27 June 1944 I was making an inventory when a policeman appeared. He took my plan of Reichhennersdorf out of his bag which I had drawn in the spring of 1942 and asked me if this were my work. I said that it was me and that this was our village. He asked me about details and why I had drawn it. I told him that I had drawn it to send to my family to show them where we were working. He asked me why I had not sent it and I told him that I had forgotten about it. The policeman told me that I was under arrest.
They took me to a room in the town hall and locked me in. Around 10:00 a Silesian called Świątek started to question me. He spoke excellent Polish but spoke to me in German. I heard my farmers giving evidence in another room. After 14:00 I was taken to the police station at Landeshut. I was again questioned in German and then placed in a single cell. For breakfast they gave me a piece of bread and margarine with a little ersatz coffee without sugar. It was the same at lunch time and in the evening I got a half a litre of watery soup with beets. There were around thirty people there including Russians, Czechs and Germans. From 09:00 to 12:00 and from 14:00 to 17:00 we chopped up wood in the courtyard. We were not allowed to talk, laugh or sing. After two weeks I could not recognise myself in the mirror. I was white and thin.
At 10:00 on 30 August 1944 a German in civilian clothes said to me in Polish ‘Janek, put the axe down and come with me.’ He took me to the police station and there they read me a document in German and told me to sign. I understood that I was free and could return to Gustav Alt’s farm. They asked me if I wanted to be accompanied by a policeman or if I would go alone. I decided that I could go alone.
Walking through Landeshut I noticed that I was being followed by the same man who had come to the prison to collect me. Without doubt he was checking that I was indeed going home. I asked myself what I should do next. Should I go back to Gustav Alt where things would only get worse or should I ask the mayor to assign me to another family. I went to see the mayor, Emil Klos, and asked him to place me in another farm. He heard me out and then telephoned someone. He told me that it was difficult but that if I wanted to work then I could come to him. He told me that his family supported the Nazis and that they lived and worked for Hitler. He said that there was much to do on his farm but if I wanted to, I could stay. I stayed.
The mayor showed me where I could sleep. It was in the attic. He took me around his farm. It was around 20 – 25 hectares with the meadows. He had two old horses in the barn. He told me that I would look after them and work with them. He told me how to clean them, feed them and look after them. Every day he asked me to do this. I felt much better here as I was not under constant surveillance as I had been before. There was also a Ukrainian women called Marusia whose surname I never found out. She looked after 12 cows, helped around the house and in the fields. Marusia told me a lot about the work and the Klos family.
They were around fifty. The oldest of their three sons was on the eastern front. The youngest went to school in Landeshut. Emil Klos was thin, average height and was always getting involved in the affairs of the village. His wife was well built, tall and had a pleasant outlook on life. She joked and laughed even though the Germans were losing the war. She worried about her son and said that she would have felt better if he were in the west. They told me that Alt tried to get me back as they no longer had anyone to do the work. He had already written to the Labour Department. I also found out that my arrest had happened during the Warsaw Uprising.
Around 20 September 1944 around 14 women who had taken part in the Uprising were brought to work. Gustav Alt received one of them. The Warsaw girls knew nothing of working in the fields and the farmers got angry. They came to my farm, crying and complaining. I was their interpreter. At the beginning Emil Klos tried to sort things out. When the conflicts continued, he said that everyone who was not happy with their work should gather at 10:00 in his farmyard. 14 women arrived. He told them that we were at war and that we were fighting each other and that people on both sides were dying. ‘You are slaves and you must do what we tell you. If you do not want to work then you will not eat. As slaves, we are giving you far too good conditions. You will do what we say and work!’ After this, no‐one complained.
Even though my new farmer was a Nazi, he was not a bad person. He never swore at me and treated me like everyone else – and that was despite frequent visits from the police.
When the field work was finished, I was sent on 16 November to work in the forest. Due to the snow and freezing cold, this was the hardest part of the time I spent in Germany. In the morning and evening I worked with the horses and from 09:00 to 16:00 in the forest.
The Germans were getting more and more nervous. Some were worried about the situation at the front, others were worried that fighting was going to happen on their land whilst others thought that the German Army would make a stand at the border. No‐one considered complete defeat as an option.
In April 1945, my farmer started to prepare two carts to get us out of there. Food was put on them for people and the horses together with clothing and bedding. Canvas was placed over the top. On the road between Landeshut and Liebau (Lubawka today) there were lorries and passenger vehicles. Everyone was going south. Some got rid of their excess loads after carrying it a short way. There was something exceptional going on but we did not know what it was. There was fear. Around 10:00 Emil Klos called Tadeusz and me and told us that we would be going with him. ‘Don’t try to escape,’ he warned. ‘I have a pistol and I will shoot. You will behave yourselves and do what we say. That way nothing will happen to you.’
In these conditions we had to accept what he said. I asked for better shoes and clothes and to take the bicycle so. Tadek wanted to take the second bike. They agreed to this.
Around mid day we set off in the direction of Liebau. The whole Klos family was with us, parents and children – around 12 people in total. As we drove through the village, people wished us well. On the main road, we had to hug the right hand side as there was so much traffic. At Liebau we managed to get onto a side road where there was not so much traffic. We crossed the former Czech border and continued in a south westerly direction. We spent the night with a farmer who locked Tadek and me in the barn once we had eaten. We slept on the straw, covered by blankets.
We travelled the next day from 09:00 to 16:00. The animals were tired and needed a rest. On the third day, we could hear heavy weapons and bombs exploding. The Soviet army was catching up with us and where the Germans stood and fought there was a battle. More and more people were on the roads. We travelled for five days and by the end everyone was tired and frightened. In the evening we took a detour off the main road for a couple of kilometres and stopped. Finding a barn to spend the night we knew that we would be freed in a couple of hours. No‐one slept as the shooting went on all night. Then things got progressively quieter. We knew that the front had passed us by.
On leaving the barn in the morning we saw that it was warm and sunny. Tadek and I went back to the main road and we saw a Soviet soldier directing the traffic. There were Soviet military vehicles on the road and at the side a group of German POWs. Everyone was going west. We watched the new situation for a long time. Now it was the Soviets who were fighting, proud and full of themselves in vehicles whilst the Germans were sad, resigned to their fate and only a shadow of their former selves. The road was a never ending stream of both groups – one going one way, the other in the opposite direction.
We returned to our farmers and then decided to go home. Emil Klos was no longer there although his family was. We told them what was happening and that we now felt free and that we wanted to return home to Poland. We were pleased to get our freedom back. Mrs Klos thanked us for our work and apologised for the conditions. She said that this was the fault of the war. After a short chat and saying our goodbyes we took the bikes and went back in the other direction towards home.