During and after
the World War ll, while Russia and Poland were apparently allies, a
paramilitary resistant group, known as AK, sprung up to try to combat the brutal
Russian occupation of Poland. They were
former soldiers who now dispensed with their uniforms.
Fighting heroically they were insulted by the Russians who called them Accursed Soldiers. ’ (Żołnierze wyklęci) The oppressors were still rounding them up long
after the end of the war. The day, 1st March, was subsequently chosen to
commemorate the heroes as on this day, in 1951, one of their number, Łukasz Ciepliński (code name Pług), was executed.
As I read more I discover the formidable courage of so
many Poles. There are many examples of their participation in battles not only at home
but so often around the world, fighting either fascism or communism. Their courage was evident since earliest
times; successfully beating off the Teutonic hordes in the famous Battle of Grunewald; contributing hugely
to the success of the Battle of Britain (and getting little thanks); and at
home the Warsaw Uprising, with astonishing courage holding off the Nazis for a
whole month, causing great damage in the process.
Life
was proscribed in every single detail. The Soviet system of authority was
vertical; each boss answered to the boss above, like a ladder right up to the level
of Stalin himself. This allowed no flexibility of any kind. Party bosses
dictated every branch of existence, from work, social life, food supplies…
anything you can think of. Should you show any independence of spirit at all,
or the smallest sign of resistance, any inclination to question, you risked your livelihood
and therefore your existence and that of your family.
The domination of Poland
was exceptionally cruel. Unlike in other communist run countries such as
Hungary or Czechoslovakia, there was no possibility of escape to make a new
start in another village or town. In Poland, moving to another village would find exactly the same system and information would be passed from Party member to Party member. News of your blackened
name would be spread and your means of support taken away. To survive, to
support your family, you had to be compromise your scruples, there was no
choice.
To keep the bosses happy,
whether you worked in a factory, or as a teacher or anywhere, you were watched.
From a young age you were fed opposing messages: the Russians demanded unquestioning
obedience, no dissent of any description. You were a robot, as a citizen you were
nothing; you and your family could be disposed of in a heartbeat. Any idea of acting morally was irrelevant.
But while your grandmother was teaching you to behave honourably, your parents
said nothing, out of fear, and your teachers were telling you lies, as they had
little choice. The great Soviet Union. They
dare not tell you any truth. Imagine what that would do to your head as you
grew up. What would that treatment to a
country? And what strength they must have to come through that experience.
A day away to a picturesque town, Nowy Sącz, set in the south, amongst
the Carpathian mountains. A trip to the local museum was full of carved, painted artefacts from the local churches.
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| Polish putti |
In addition there was surprising show by Zbigniew Borowski, 1905-1966. I think his sculpture, finished in patinated plaster.
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| 1957 Portrait of the painter Ewa Harsdorf |
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| Borowski, nude |
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| Busy municipal office corridor |
Running around Poznan taking care of business when Stefan’s
cousin, Anna, died, registering this that and the other, one of the offices looked
like this. With a rather spiffy paint makeover this Communist era building had loads
of atmosphere. Wasn’t that busy.
One sadness of the country is the seeming inability to
rescue what were once glorious buildings.
People die intestate, or go to prison or something, I don’t know what
happens. There are countless examples of grand and not so grand but interesting
and worthwhile structures just left to rot. It is terribly sad. This one in central Poznan was so beautiful; a true
Miss Haversham of a building.
The 'brother' situation has meant we have had no help with
the house at all. Apart from dotty Andrzej who would turn up for a pack of
ciggies. Once they were smoked he was off, but he helped clearing snow. Looking
after Henry, winter, short days, has left us pretty much where we were in the
autumn.
But now things have changed. Our faithful Ukrainian, Big Stef, is
coming back very soon. He will bring a mate too, and not only that, we have a
lady Ukrainian to make 3. We told him we
needed a lady to help us with Henry, cleaning, garden and all sorts. Behold,
Halina arrived at 6.30 this morning!
There exists a man who acts as a
go-between, finding workers and bringing them to their new place or back again
by car. Also known as traffickers. He is not reliable and not honest, but what
can you do. We know about these people. BUT, he found her and she is here. And
just in time. I needed help with Henry, he had not been out of bed for 3 days, he
didn’t want to move. I won’t describe what I found but her help was a godsend.
She has exceeded my expectations; I had NO IDEA who she would be. She is a
nurse, as well as a worker who wants to get stuck in. In my dreams.... And she is a very loving person. Its only the first day but bodes well. Watch this space. She has
already helped with Henry, washing him all over most tenderly.
Language: she
understands Polish, and speaks Ukrainian of course, which is harder for me to understand; I could sort of manage if it were Russian. But between us will get there, I have no
doubt. Unfortunately, for all Henrys’ linguistic skills he does not know any of
the Slavic tongues. But he is happy. She massaged him his feet and all is well.
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| Our new family member, Halina |
He took to his bed over 3 weeks ago. He knew that if
he did that, that would be it, but he wants it to be over. It will take as long as
it takes. He is getting thinner and weaker, of course. I can see the changes every day; as that
wretch in the White House would say, sad.
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