Through Hell and Beyond in a Boxcar
by
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September 1, 1939 Mom and Lola finally arrived at Luniniec. Mom was not very happy. It seems Dad and his entire brigade were sent to the border of Eastern Prussia with anticipation of some serious problems brewing. Luniniec was similarly anticipating unpleasant things. Merchants were closing their stores and people were hoarding all the items they could lay their hands on. Everybody seemed to be very apprehensive, nervous; no more smiles, everyone is always in a hurry. Mom seemed to be more protective about us. There were more tender hugs; more affectionate behavior is displayed more openly. All three single uncles joined their respective branches of service and had been away for weeks now. After Grandma’s death, Uncle Konstantyn became the patriarch of the family. Uncle Gienek was now very concerned about his, until now, very prosperous business: tobacconist, selling: smoking accessories, souvenirs, books, and everything a traveler could use. His store was near a very busy railroad station. I helped at times, until Mom found a cigarette holder and a few butts in my pants. I often shared those butts with my buddy Gienia behind the hay stack. A good shellacking cured me from my attempt to emulate grownups . . . for the time being. The radio, in a rather somber but strong voice, announced through a speaker, which someone had stuck out of the window of the second story building right across from the school I attended:
"POLAND HAS BEEN INVADED BY GERMANS THIS MORNING. WE ARE AT WAR. OUR ARMIES ARE DEFENDING OUR BORDERS TO THE BEST OF THEIR ABILITIES. WE'RE ALL IN GOD'S HANDS, AND HE IS ON OUR SIDE." Some were in hysterics and screaming, others were just crying. Moms were hugging their kids a little tighter; there weren't many Dads left. For us kids, it was something exciting and we did not bother to comprehend the seriousness of the situation. For us, life went as usual. It was apple harvesting time from the neighbors’ orchards and being mischievous wherever the opportunity presented itself. The radio was giving instructions on how to dig shelters in your back yard: "Dig a hole in the shape of a large grave to accommodate your whole family, then cover it with boards and sod, leaving just enough space to crawl into it when the alarm announces that planes are coming and they will no doubt drop bombs. "If the bombs are exploding and discharging poisonous gas, those of you who don't have a gas mask, dig a little hole in the ground, pee in it, soak a handkerchief, and then stick your face in it." I did not like any of those instructions. Patriotic songs and speeches were blaring non-stop. We had no doubts that our brave dads and uncles, some on their horses with sharp sabers or lances, would whip the daylights out of Hitler's bandits in short order. Stores were closed. Since we’d come to Luniniec for vacation, most of our belongings had been left behind. Mom was trying to buy some warmer clothes, but the money wasn't any good anymore. Mom tried to go back home, to Koszary, to get what she could. She was told that the trains would stop running at midnight. Grownups were very nervous, irritable, and had no patience at all. Any time there was a conversation going on among adults, we kids got thrown out on our ear. They were warning us not to pick up any toys or candies off the streets. They were all poisoned by the German spies during the night, who were all around us. It was advised to those who had open wells not to drink the water before they offered it to their pet, because German spies threw poison in the well. They were, in fact, seen by someone doing just that . . . It scared many people. I know I wasn't very thirsty oftentimes, only of course until I forgot about these warnings, which was normally quite soon.
It was very dark yet and I was very much asleep. Mom roused me out of bed and, in a rather urgent manner, informed us that we were going to spend the rest of the night with some friends at the outskirts of town. "Hurry up, put this on and let’s move," she said, as she handed me the first thing that she got hold of, which was her jacket. I felt the silk lining on my bare arms, which felt good, and wandered why she didn't want me to wait until I could find my own clothes. There was no time for stupid questions or answers. We didn't walk, we ran. It only took a few minutes to get there. I wondered why it was safe here and not back by Grandma’s house. The house was warm. There was a fire in the open hearth and a kerosene lamp was providing enough light to see inside. I could make out a dirt floor, and a chicken and cow across the hallway were sharing the same roof and the bench I was told to lay down on to sleep. It was the first air raid. I didn't hear the sirens alerting and recalling the raid, I was asleep both times. It was said later that the planes never made it to Luniniec. They were trying to destroy bridges on the river Prypec, but their aim was lousy and the bridges were safe. There was one scary day, Sunday. The churches were full, the sirens started wailing, and there was panic. People ran over each other, screaming and crying. Formats Book Details It was September 3rd, and raining bombs. The war was three days old now. German planes came over our city and unloaded their noisy cargo. They only managed to disturb the dead, by dropping their destruction on the cemetery and places of no consequence. Then the planes came down over the potato fields, mowing down women, children, and old men harvesting their crops. Fifteen days later, Russian troops, in their Mongolian hats, swarmed all over the city. Dad was killed twice at the front, according to two different eyewitnesses. He appeared three weeks later, unscathed, only to be arrested for being a soldier. He was considered an enemy of the state. The rest of us-myself, my nine-year-old sister, and my pregnant mom-the other "enemies of the state," were packed into the cattle train and sent to Siberia. Decimated by hunger and a typhus epidemic, some of us made our way through Iran to freedom. Serendipity manifested itself at every juncture of my life. Prodded by relatives and encouraged by friends, I decided to share this story. It is a small tribute to those who did not survive this journey. It is also a small tribute to Mom, who often jeopardized her life and endured never-ending hardship in order to bring us out of hell.
I was born in 1929 in Poland, which is today known as Belarus. My first 10 years were spent on a military base where Dad served as cavalryman. Poland was ripped appart by Hitler and Stalin in September of 1939. Shortly after that, we were exiled to Siberia as enemies of the state, simply because Dad was a military person. He was arrested and taken away into Russia separately. Eventually, due to the ever-changing fortunes of war, we found our way to Iran, minus one sister, who walked away from a train in Tashkent, Uzbekistan and was lost. She was nine years old. We were reunited a year later. Another sister, who after being born in cold Siberia, came to freedom and died at the age of nine months. Two years later, we were in India. Camped in a desert and housed in tents, we attended high school between malaria attacks. In 1945, by sheer luck, I found myself on a ship heading for the United States thanks to the generosity of Polish Americans. Years later, after serving Uncle Sam in the Marine Corps during the Korean conflict, I was able to finish college, become a manufacturing engineer, get married, raise five children, and eventually retire in sunny Florida to enjoy a happy life with my wife.
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