1.2 -- 1939: The First Contact with War

Artillery hits Warsaw

Warsaw, 1st September, 1939

The previous days passed without major events until today (Friday) arrived and abruptly brought all residents to their feet with a cannonade of firing, admittedly still some distance away from us.

We learned from the radio that Nazi Germany had invaded the territory of our country without prior declaration of war by a sudden onslaught of  aircraft and army units.

And so the first German bombs unexpectedly fell at dawn upon the heads of the civilian population living on the outskirts of Warsaw. The first destruction - and the first victims.

Confusion at home. The housekeeper, Freda, wrings her hands. Does not
know how to begin the day. Weeps: "How are the women to manage without
the master?"

Maryla, together with Mama's maid, Liza, begins to pack the more
valuable things into crates and suitcases.  I am so startled I do not
know what to do and wander about aimlessly. Only Mama is calm and
self-possessed as usual. She immediately phoned Uncle Boguslaw (the
phones still worked) but learnt from his housekeeper that he had already
left for Kredytowa St. to secure what he could in their business. Mama
and I went there also.

My uncle, together with many employees, are already busy sorting
clothes, fabrics (whole bales of them), furs, carpets, etc., hiding
everything for safety in trunks, crates, suitcases, wherever they can.
We join in the work. Apprentices, still too young for the army, came to
work today as normal and help to carry everything into the cellars.

Warsaw, 2nd September, 1939

Saturday. Warsaw Radio broadcasts air raid alarms for the City of

Warsaw at quite frequent intervals. Gradually everyone becomes

accustomed to the new situation, watching with interest the planes being

fired on by anti-aircraft guns.

After each alarm people return to gluing strips of paper on windows in
the shape of an "X". We are also doing this for it is supposed to
prevent the panes of glass from falling out due to vibrations.

Shops, or rather their displays, are being secured with sandbags.

Children, "decorated" with gas masks, meander among adults completely
without panic. On the contrary, for them it is an attraction - shots,
explosions, bombs. For them, "something" is happening. Only the tiny
ones are frequently frightened and cry.   Not the older children who have
no idea of the danger, never having experienced war as such.

The Director of the Union of Polish Scouts has called upon all Scouts to
"fulfil all allotted tasks with the greatest application, keenness and
sacrifice in the spirit of maximum responsibility" as, our country
having been attacked by the enemy, the whole nation rises to fight.

3rd Sept. 1939 - and the subsequent days

Some confusion at home while everything which can be saved is secured.

Being 13 years and 8 months old, I am still unable to evaluate the

dangers of the situation.   Everyone maintains that with the involvement

of the army and the help of the whole population, undertaking whatever

work is needed, the enemy can be quickly repulsed.

I parade around proudly with my Red Cross satchel on my arm and my gas
mask on my back so as not to inhibit movement. I wait for an adult to
give me some useful task to perform.  However, no one pays attention to
me, not even Mama. And so, free for once, I wander about the yard and
out on the street.

Whenever the radio announces a raid everyone runs to the cellars. I
should be doing the same. But I take advantage of the confusion and go
up to the loft with the men and older children. From there the aerial
battle can be observed more easily.

Although it is tragic, this is a fascinating spectacle, especially when I
am able to see an enemy plane diving towards the ground in flames. I
can see the swastika through the field glasses which Papa has left at
home, and which I also lend to the men.  Seeing this plane falling to
the ground, I throw my arms around the neck of our caretaker, Mr.
Duszak, yelling at the top of my voice:

"Serves you right, you scoundrel! Let the devil take you for trying
to kill us!"

That day bombs fell on Powazki, easily seen from our position. The
radio informed us that part of the Powazka cemetery was destroyed.
There was a general air of sadness - and panic - at home. Finally
Maryla found me in the loft and forcibly dragged me to the shelter,
scolding me that I had not stayed by Mama and her.  And they were so
worried not knowing where I could be. It all went in one ear and out of
the other because I hoped to hear an order to put on gas masks - a
moment eagerly awaited by all the children. I only muttered to Maryla
that I was sorry.

Oh, childish innocence! How we fail to realise the danger. War! - for
us it is a novelty.  Everything tempts, interests, excites. If only one
could run to those older ones, to the front line, to see what real
fighting looks like!

The President of Warsaw, Stefan STARZYNSKI - also a friend of my parents - became hoarse appealing on the radio for calm and self-control.

Having stocked up on food, Mama instructed the housekeeper, Freda, to
divide the supplies leaving part at home for us, taking part to these
who had nothing and who sheltered in our gateway during the air raids -
and storing the rest safely in the cellar. Mama also ordered the
organisation of a communal kitchen on the ground floor in the
caretaker's apartment. And so Freda, our cook, Maria, and Mr. Duszak
busied themselves with cooking and distributing hot food for all those
who found themselves in our building. And the building was
progressively filling up with civilian refugees who had lost their
possessions and with the first few soldiers from some decimated unit -
most of whom were wounded.

In this respect also Mama immediately showed her "golden" heart and
wonderful hands, as well as her kindness. During the next few days beds
were installed for the wounded. We quickly joined forces to help by
dressing the injuries of the wounded - work in which Mama also involved
resident tenants. There remained only women and one solitary male - the
caretaker. For even Dr. Ari Frenkiel, although elderly, had to remain
at the hospital where he worked. And it was his wife who later took
over the function of organiser when Mama decided that we should leave
the Capital.

We remained in the stubbornly defended Capital until 20th September,
l939.