Mrs Janina (Rydel) Nowoslawski

(Janka)

The women and the children stayed at the station, and the men went out looking for the Polish army post. Unfortunately, on the door of one building was a note, which indicated that the army post had moved to Tashkent, and everyone should go there. What else could they do, but gather their things and wait for a train going in that direction. After searching through their sacks, each of them found something to sell in order to have money for yet another train ticket.

This time, Janka’s family had more room in their car. They were traveling with a family from Uzbekistan. From time to time along the way, they would leave the train at a station and go to a commissary to get some bread and soup rations.

The train crossed deserts and steppes. It became unbearably hot in the car, and it was filthy. They could not wash, as they had had no soap for months. They were now covered with lice, which bit constantly.

One day, at a station, Janka’s father left the car and came back a moment later with a piece of bread. He threw the bread to someone, and quickly hid among some boxes. Some KGB police followed him into the car, looking for him. They would have found him, except that at that very moment the train began to move and the police had to jump off the train. Janka’s father had stolen that bread. It was a crime of hunger. Their whole group shared that bread, a tiny piece for each person.

After a few days, they reached Tashkent. There were many Poles at the station already, as well as in the city. People were milling about the streets. Although there were representatives from the Polish army, they told people to wait, nothing was organized yet. The Russians were in no hurry, and were giving no orders. Janka’s father found out that at one of stores in town had flour. He took some Polish money and told the shopkeeper that the money could be made into nice earrings. He traded the money for flour. It was night already, but in the morning Janka’s mother would make some noodles and they would not be so hungry anymore. With this hope, they fell asleep under the stars.

(Tashkent)

In the morning, they realized that they had received not flour, but a sack of white sand. In the darkness of the night, Janka’s father had not been able to see.

In Uzbekistan, the climate is warm, but the nights are cold. Once the rains started, people started getting sick and dying again. Every morning a truck would make rounds and take the corpses that lay on the streets. Those who were still alive became jealous of the dead. People began to say, "What are we to do here? Surely we will all die."

Soon the Russians and the Polish representatives determined that the refugees should be relocated to the collective farms. Janka’s group was relocated to a collective that produced rice. They were placed in a small house made of clay, with a straw and grass roof. They were all told to prepare for work, and received some soup and flat bread.

The Poles were patient and brave. Siberia had hardened them. They did not complain, but they believed in God and prayed to him.

After a week, things had improved. Janka’s father had pieced together some boards and had collected some straw from the rice fields, so that they didn’t have to sleep on the ground anymore. Janka’s mother washed their clothes and got rid of some of the lice. They walked to their jobs preparing the rice fields, and they waited to be called to the army.

After a month, they received word to go to the train station. Already, there were many people there. They were placed on a cargo train and headed out in the direction of Saniarkand. There, too, they were told to wait. They did not know it yet, but the Russians were already making it difficult for Poles to join the army, and they did not want to help the families. Again, the representative of the Polish army was sent to explain to everyone that they had to go for a few weeks to a collective. He explained that there was no train, and they would all die if they remained at the station. For the time being, they were allowed to go into a church that was being used to store grain. Being empty of grain, they were allowed to take shelter. Once again, people lay side by side on the floor, removing clothing and killing lice.

Janka couldn’t believe how many lice there were. She had knitted a scarf in school. From every hole peeked a louse.

Each family was once again directed to a collective. Somehow, Janka’s group was once again able to go together. After several hours in a car, they reached the collective. They were taken to a brick building, and again they lay down on the bare floor to sleep. In the morning, they must report to work.

During the night, they were awakened by an earthquake. They all ran outside to watch their building shake and then collapse. Their belongings were all covered with debris. They had to dig, for these were their whole wealth. Thankfully, no one was killed. Later, they were given a new home made from clay.

On this collective farm, they farmed cotton. It was Janka’s first time seeing cotton growing They would pick it and put it into sacks, and they carried the sacks on their heads when they were full. This collective also raised silkworms. Janka had to pick leaves off the trees to feed the little worms.

On this collective, Janka’s group was told that they should work, and their work would be recorded daily. Once their days were added up, they would be paid. Everyone went to work with the hopes of making enough money for a piece of bread. Their hunger was very strong now. The Uzbekis were different they too were oppressed by the Russians. Their living conditions were terrible. They lived in houses made of clay bricks. They had no forests, rather, only desert.

In order to cook something, they had to gather dry grass to burn. Water was collected from the mountains, and sent through irrigation ditches. The water was dirty, even opaque, as it flowed from the mountains. People would collect it in buckets or pots, because they never knew when it would be sent down again. When the water flowed through the ditches, one could see a donkey drinking on one side, someone washing his feet on the other. They had to boil the water, but boiling did not kill all the bacteria.

After a few weeks, Janka’s mother became ill. She was able to go to the medical office in the city. They diagnosed typhus. She was put m hospital isolation. The whole group in fact was quarantined on the collective. The collective would not give them any food, because they had not yet earned enough. There were inexpensive onions, though, and they made soup. Certain grasses also provided vitamins.

Janka and her friend Frank (her friend from school) discovered that in the barn, there was a manger full of cottonseed for the cattle, which turned out to be edible. In fact, it was a little sweet. They ate so much, that they nearly died from bloating.

Janka’s mother finally returned from the hospital. She was very weak. Janka spoke Russian well, so she determined that she would go into town, and ask the Captain of the KGB if he could give them some food because they were all so hungry. He listened to her, and then threw her out. Janka stood in the hallway crying. Now, how could she return home empty-handed? At that moment, another miracle happened: a man came up to Janka, and asked who she was and why she was crying. He was a man from the Polish army post, who was helping the Poles. He took Janka back in to speak to the KGB officer, who then told her to go to the store. There, they would give Janka some

It wasn’t much, but it was enough for some noodles and bread. The man told Janka that the army had not forgotten about them, and that they would be summed very

Janka and Frank would walk around in the Uzbeki market where vegetables and tea were sold. The Uzbeki’s delicacy was boiled red beets. The peels were thrown under the tables, and Janka and Frank would race under the tables and feed on the scraps like animals. Sometimes, they were unsuccessful, for there were many children like them. The Uzbekis would kick them and laugh at them, but hunger has no shame.

The days began to grow cold, and the rains came. The roads turned to mud. It was difficult to walk on the roads, because they all had bare feet. One day, when Janka and Frank were returning from the town, they saw some Uzbekis standing in the road, throwing a rope to a man lying in the road. Apparently, he could not get up, but the Uzbekis did not want to get muddy. As Janka and Frank drew closer, they recognized the man as a Jewish neighbor that lived close by with his brother. They did not work on the collective, and they did not associate with any Poles, though they were from Poland themselves. Janka came home and told her father that they should go rescue the man. Because he was sick and unable to get up Janka’s father told her to run to the man’s brother and tell him, which Janka did. The next day, the head of the collective came and told Janka’s father to take another man and go bury a Jew who died in the mud the night before.

Within a few days, Janka and her father both went to the hospital and were diagnosed with typhus. For then days, Janka lay in the hospital half-conscious. She had a high fever. The hospital gave her bread and water, but she couldn’t eat. She hid the bread in a drawer near her bed. She thought she would take it with her when she got better. Either someone took her bread, or she had just imagined that they had given her bread. She began to hallucinate, once seeing a beautiful woman standing by her bed. Other times, she would jump out of bed wanting to go somewhere. Slowly, however, her fever began to break, and Janka returned to reality.

Janka’s father lay in a different ward. She begged the hospital personnel for permission to go see him, and they agreed. Janka’s mother looked on through the window, happy that they were all still alive. When they were released from the hospital, Janka’s mother could not get a wagon to take them back, so they had to walk. It was not far, but it took them over half a day. They had to sit down every so often because they did not have the strength to go on. Janka did not realize the depth of their tragedy. Her parents did not want to tell her, or perhaps they, too, believed that somehow they would survive.

None of them could work then, because they had no strength. It was the same for many Poles. Some set out for themselves to find the Polish army post. Janka’s father was too weak to go with them. Every day, he felt worse.

Janka’s mother learned that there was a Russian doctor nearby. She sent Janka and Frank to him to ask him to come by. They didn’t know how they would pay him, and the doctor refused anyway. He gave some sort of medicine, and told them to send Janka’s father in a week or so. On the way home, Janka was full of hope that her father would get better.

Her father only got worse. His face, hands and feet started to swell, and he felt no pain. He said that if he could have some bread and butter he would feel better, so Janka’s mother took a shawl and traded it to some Uzbekis for some flatbread, butter and milk. She came home so pleased! Janka’s father took one look at the flatbread and said he wasn’t hungry, but he would drink the milk. Everyone sat down around him on the floor. He began to reminisce about Poland, how good it was there, how the trees and flowers bloomed. He wondered what grandmother was doing.

(Janka's mother and Aunt - white dress)

That evening, Janka’s mother began cooking some soup from flour. Janka’s father called her over. He said, "Look at the beautiful sunset. Here in this forsaken place it is shining for us." He told Janka that they would be rescued soon. He would go into the army and the Polish government would take care of her and her mother. Thus passed the evening. In the dark hut they had no light except for a few pieces of kindling soaked in some sort of fuel. Occasionally they would light it, but her father didn’t ask them to. They all lay down to sleep, and as dawn approached, Janka awoke to her father’s voice. He was praying.

He was saying the litany very calmly. Janka’s mother lit a piece of kindling. Frank’s mother and older sister also woke up. Everyone started to pray. Their words sounded so strange in that tiny hut in Uzbekistan. Janka’s mother and her friend must have known that the end was near. Janka had no idea, and she cuddled close to her father. She was warm and comfortable next to him, and she fell asleep. Soon, her mother woke her up and told her that her father had died. They needed to wash him and dress him, so they asked the children to leave. Janka sat outside the house and cried. Frank’s face was wet with tears as well. His sister tried to cheer them up.

It was already day when they were called back in. Her father lay in the corner, washed and dressed, peaceful forever. They had to begin thinking about a funeral.

Outside of town was a Russian cemetery. Janka’s mother wanted to bury her husband in consecrated ground. She said it would be better for him. After much effort, and the last polish zloty, they were able to get permission to dig a grave there. Janka’s mother also hired a man to dig the grave and wait for them. She arranged for a wagon and donkey from the collective, and brought it to the house. Two women and three adolescent children — how were they to put the corpse on the wagon? Janka’s father had been a large man, although not much of him was left. But they were all so weak. After wrapping the body in a bed sheet, they were able to finally get the body up onto the wagon. Frank led the donkey because it didn’t want to go. The women walked behind the wagon. Tears flowed so freely as they the Polish refugees, far from their own land, were carting the remains of their loved one to a grave in a foreign soil.

After about an hour, they reached the cemetery. The man whom Janka’s mother had hired to dig the grave had left, since she had paid him beforehand. The grave itself was dug, but how could they lower the body into the grave? They couldn’t, after all, just drop it. After discussing it, Janka jumped into the grave, and the rest lowered the body slowly. Janka could hardly hold the body; in fact it pressed her to the ground below so that she had to dig herself out. She arranged the body somehow, and covered her father’s face. Then, they helped her out of the grave. They began to fill in the grave with their hands.

An older man came by and offered condolences. He called Janka’s mother aside, and told her to fill the grave with rocks. He said, "You see those mountains over there? There are jackals they’re just waiting for night to fall." Somehow, they managed to fill the grave with rocks. What else could they do? They returned home, and another week went by without food.

One day, Janka and Frank went out to look or beg for food. Walking among the houses, they came upon a little dog, who followed them out into the fields. At the same time, both Janka and Frank thought perhaps they could kill the little dog for meat. But how? Frank came up with an idea.

There was no one nearby. Frank took off his belt, and they put it around the dog’s neck. They hung the dog from a nearby tree. It cried until finally it suffocated and died. Janka and Frank wrapped the dog in grass so that nobody would see, and they brought it home. Somehow, they removed the hide and began to cook some soup. They told everyone that they had caught a rabbit. It was quite a ceremony they had a little flour to make noodles. It was a ceremony that hadn’t taken place in a very long time. Only Frank’s sister did not believe that it was a rabbit.

The worst thing is waiting without knowing what is going to happen. They were supposed to be notified by the Polish army post when to expect to leave. For now, they heard nothing. Janka’s mother went into town to inquire, and someone told her to go to Samarkand. which wasn’t too far away. There, they said, Polish army troops were stationed, and perhaps they could arrange their departure from Russia. Somehow they were able to persuade some cotton truck drivers to take them to Samarkand. At first, these drivers would not even hear them out, but after being paid with their last possessions, they agreed.

Janka’s group gathered their things and at first light, they stood by the wagons. The drivers made room for them among the bales of cotton, so that no one could see

In this way, they reached Samarkand. After that, they sometimes walked, sometimes hitchhiked, and finally reached the Polish Army base in Alma Ata.

Frank’s mother had no trouble registering. Her oldest son was already in the

Janka’s father was no longer alive, so who would let them out of this hell? Families of army members were given priority for transfer out of Russia. After much trouble, Janka’s mother somehow was able to get them on a list for departure from USSR1. Hundreds of people were waiting for the some thing -- perhaps someone took pity on them or perhaps Janka’s father pleaded with God on their behalf?

Again, they began waiting for the transport. But here they were not hungry anymore. The Poles gave them bread an4 soup. After a few weeks of waiting, the officials told them to get onto wagons which would take them to the train. Not everyone could leave on this transport: among the Poles, the Ukrainians, and the Jews, only Poles were allowed to leave. The others were considered Russian citizens. As the wagons left, those who were forced to stay behind were in agony.

Within a few hours they found themselves on a train, this time under the supervision of both Polish and Russian officials. The very long train slowly made its way across the desert. Everyone had hope that the road to freedom began here. They arrived at the port of Krasnowock, and waited again, this time for a ship. Hundreds, possibly thousands of people were already waiting for this ship, to take them across the Caspian Sea to Persia. This was their road to freedom.

It was extremely hot. They were given little water, but they could have bought sweet melons. There were many women and children. Finally, they were told that they could begin boarding the ship. Near the gangway stood Polish and Russian officials, who checked documents, and made sure that no one took any rubles out of Russia. There was not one person among them who would keep a ruble and miss the chance to go on the ship. People were throwing the rubles into a basket, so that they could all the faster get on the ship and stand on the deck, escaping finally the Russian "paradise."

The boat was large and old. It was overloaded with people. Finally, it set off from the dock. People were praying "Lord keep us in your protection."

Unfortunately, some of the people waiting on the dock drank contaminated water, and got dysentery. They were already sick in port, but no one would admit to it, for fear of being left behind. There were only a few toilets on the ship. The lines to the bathroom were unbelievable. Some would immediately get back in line after using the toilet.

The ship left port in the evening, and it took us two days to reach the port of Pachlevi in Iran. The night passed, and a beautiful morning dawned. When everyone began to wake, they found a number of corpses on the decks. Some had died from exhaustion, others hearts could not take the joy of freedom. The sailors wrapped the bodies in bags, and threw them overboard. The sea accepted them with open arms, rocking them in the waves. Finally, they were free.

Once the ship reached Pachlevi, Janka and her mother somehow held each other up while they walked down the gangplank onto the dock. They were thanking God.

Some trucks were waiting to take people from the port to a camp a few kilometers away. Tents had already been prepared for them. The British Red Cross and officials from the Polish Government m exile in London were charged with the care of the refugees. Immediately, they were told to get in line for dissinfection. The officials told them to turn over anything brought from Russia. Clothes would be burned, but other items would be disinfected. Janka had an embossed icon of Our Lady of Czestochowa. Thankfully, they told her that she could keep it.

The dissinfection began with the shaving of hair, disinfecting of the body, and a shower. Afterwards, everyone received a towel, soap, bed linens, a dress and a blanket. The deloused people felt better already, and they became hopeful

The kitchens gave out breakfasts and dinners: soups with generous pieces of lamb. They gave fruits, dates, tea, and bread. They wondered who was responsible for such lavish portions. Their stomachs were not used to such bounty, and many people became sick. In addition, dysentery was still rampant.

Janka’s mother got sick within a week’s time. The officials took her away to the hospital. No visitors were allowed, as she was in isolation. Janka was left alone. would wander around the camp and often met friends from Poland. She would go to the beach, where the water was clean and the sun gave her strength. She was happy to be around other people, and she believed that everything would be alight. Her mother would be home soon.

Every day, she would go to the hospital tents in order to get any information she could. For now, however, no one could tell her which tent her mother was in. A week later, Janka got a high fever, and was taken to the hospital, half-conscious, dysentery. When her fever abated, Janka started looking around the ward and in all the beds for her mother. She thought she saw her mother in the bed next to her. Disbelieving her own eyes, she closed them and opened them again. Indeed, it was her mother. Fate caused her to be placed near her mother, though no one knew they were family.

Janka’s mother was still very sick, with a high fever. Janka, however, returned to health quickly, under the care of the Polish and British doctors. The hospital staff, however, was mostly Polish. Finally, her mother began to recognize Janka, and to improve somewhat.

Unfortunately, it was determined that the hospital would be closed, and the sick would be moved to Tehran, where the conditions were said to be better. The most seriously sick were left behind until the very end, so that they could improve before the journey. Now, Janka and her mother would not be separated. They would go together in an ambulance.

The road from Pachievi to Tebran went through mountains. The Persian drivers were obviously skilled to be able to drive along narrow roads through steep mountains and not fall over the cliffs. After a dozen hours or so, they reached Tebran. There, too, they had to wait for a transport to the hospital. Janka’s mother felt very ill during this trip, and they could see that there were many people before them. When her mother finally fainted, they were given priority.

The hospital consisted of the same type of tents as in Pachlevi, but the nursing care seemed better. Janka begged that they not be separated, so they were placed next to each other. After such a trip, everyone was exhausted. They were given medicine, and Janka’s mother was given a shot. She calmed down somewhat, and Janka fell asleep as well.

When Janka woke in the morning, she saw that her mother was still very sick. The doctors came and prescribed some other medicine. They even gave her a glass of wine, as she was not allowed to have water. The doctors tried to cheer Janka, telling her that everything would be alright. Again, hope sprang in her heart. Janka had no idea that her mother could die.

When Janka’s mother awoke, she began to complain that her legs and hands were painful. Janka tried to massage her mother’s limbs, but she had little strength herself. Her mother was terribly thirsty, but was not allowed to have any water. Instead, Janka wet a cloth and moistened her mother’s lips. As her mother pleaded for water, Ihe nurse came by and gave her a shot. Another day had passed. The nights were worse.

One night, Janka woke to hear a conversation between the doctors and her mother. As she lay quietly, Janka heard her mother say, "Why do you torture me? Let me die. I want to go to my husband. It will be better there. It’s time for me to rest." The doctor told her "Mamma, you have a daughter. You have to stay alive for her. She has nobody here to take care of her." Janka’s mother replied, "I will go, and she will survive." Tears flooded Janka’s eyes, but she was afraid to move. She didn’t want her mother to know that she had heard the conversation. Even now, Janka did not understand that her mother was dying.

The doctors decided that very night that there was nothing they could do to save Janka’s mother, and they allowed her to have as much water as she wanted. In the morning, as if she felt better, she began talking about how much she missed Poland, and that the war would not last long. She would slip into sleep, and when she awoke, she would talk about God, that everything is in His hands, and that nothing happens without his knowledge. Later, she told Janka to remember all those things that she had been taught at home, so that she would not have to be embarrassed for her. Janka thought this was strange talk, but it still did not occur to her that anything would go wrong.

When night fell, Janka’ s mother fell asleep. It was very hot in the hospital tent. There was no avoiding it, for there were over twenty people there. Janka fell asleep as well. At dawn, a nurse woke Janka to tell her that her that her mother had died, and to say good bye to her. It was October 9, 1942. It was a terrible fate for a young girl in a foreign land to lose both parents in just a few months. They took her mother’s body, wrapped it in a sheet, and took it out of the hospital, just like they had with hundreds of others.

Here, too, death had its harvest. Polish refugees remains had been scattered over the Siberian Taiga, the steppes of Kazakhstan, and along the tracks across that huge Soviet country. In Persia too, then, they had to make their offering.

Apparently, there was a polish priest at her mother’s funeral. Janka was not allowed out of the hospital. In fact, she got another high fever, and the doctors determined that she had malaria. The hospital moved her to another tent. Her treatment was long, but the worst part was that there was no family there.

Slowly, Janka’s health returned. She was able to go outside into the fresh air near the hospital tent. There, she was many people who were visiting their loved ones in the hospital. Sitting there one day, Janka saw a familiar face. It was a friend of her parents from Poland. Her name was Maria, a widow with two sons, ages 7 and 9. Janka told her that her parents were dead, and that she didn’t know what she would do when they let her out the hospital. Maria told Janka to come to her barracks when they let her out, gave her the number, and even organized it with the hospital.

After a few days, Janka was let out of the hospital. She was alone, and had to fend for herself. She wrapped up her belongings and walked out in search of Maria’s barracks. There were so many barracks and tents, and everywhere, people were searching for loved ones. She finally found the right barracks. In it, were about fourteen families. They were all arranged on mats on the floor, one next to the other. Maria was nowhere to be found. The barrack leader came out, and told Janka to place herself in the middle of the barracks, because no one wanted to be near her.

During the time she had been sick, she had never looked into the mirror, since she neither had one, nor was it important. Now, she looked like a walking corpse, just skin stretched over bones. Her hair was cut rather it was shaved. The people were afraid of her, they thought that they would catch some disease from her. They said she probably had tuberculosis. It was hard to blame them.

Janka sat on her bundles and began to cry. When Maria came back, she calmed Janka, and said to the people around them "Have you no hearts? She will be with me." She moved her own things and placed Janka’s things next to her own.

Thus passed the next few weeks. Janka regained some strength, since there was plenty of food. Her hair began to grow back. She met some girls her age and they would often walk around the camps. They were even able to go into town as see the palace of the Shah. Janka began to feel happy. She belonged to someone. Someone cared about her. For her, this was enough for now.

The Poles were not destined to stay in Persia for long. The officials began to inform them about transports leaving for Africa and India, the British Dominion. Again, there was a packing of belongings and preparation for a long road ahead. This time, they were headed for the port of Ahwaz.

Once again, she had to wait for the boat, in a camp build by the Polish refugees, where the families and children and even the army were stationed. There, Janka met another friend from Poland. Her mother worked in the army laundry. The girls ran around the whole camp, and nothing at all bothered them. After a few weeks, they got word that the boat was waiting. Janka was immediately ready. Maria liked Janka very much, because she would watch her boys from time to time.

Janka’s friend from her childhood days had to stay behind. They were not destined for this transport. On the boat, the conditions were very good, and there was medical treatment. Janka again met some girls her age who also had lost her parents. There was no end to their stories and conversations. But, when evening came and the girls went back to their cabins, the tears began to flow. They missed their mothers, fathers, their homes. They couldn’t sleep. Then began the conversation with God. "Why?" No mother, no father. She wanted to cuddle up to her mother, to hear her father’s calm voice saying that everything would be alright.

The ship slowly approached Africa -- a strange and foreign land. After reaching port, they were all loaded once again into a train, in the direction of Southern Rhodesia. The train stopped at the larger stations, and the British from various organizations greeted them with warm tea and cookies. There, Janka ate her first banana. Finally, the train made it to their new place. Again, they were loaded into cars to be taken to their new home, the town of Marandelas, Southern Rhodesia.

There, there were two-family homes with thatched roofs and some beds. Janka was still with Maria. They had added one more girl with no family. Maria immediately volunteered to work in the kitchen, and Janka was left to take care of Maria’s boys. They began to organize a school, but there were few teachers available. The level of instruction was, therefore, quite low. There were over a thousand people in this camp. Mostly, there were families of the military, who would receive letters and money from their loved ones. No one wrote to Janka. She had been taught to love God, so she went to mass. taking Maria’s boys with her. She and others from the camp met there for prayer. They had reason to pray. For parents, friends, their homes, for the end of the war, and for everyone to return to their homeland.

Over the next few months, Janka began to wonder what would happen to her. One day, a representative from the Polish Air Force came to the camp, and told that those who were 18 years or older, could sign up for the WRAF, the women s service. All the girls went to sign up because they wanted to help, and because they wanted to return as quickly as possible to Poland. Janka went too, her heart beating wildly.

When she reached the officer, he looked at her and shook his head. He asked Janka how old she was. She lied and said she was 18. She was only 16 at the time. He asked where her parents were, and Janka replied that they were dead. He said "So, you have no one. Still, cannot accept you, you look like a child, and you are lying about your age." Janka steadfastly insisted that she was 18 years old, but that she did not have a birth certificate. Crying, she told him she couldn’t stay there any longer maybe the officer had a family that died in Russia. He took pity on her and signed her up.

A few weeks later came the day to depart to the gathering place of the WRAF. There were over 200 girls in all. They received identical clothing, something resembling a uniform. The girls were young and attractive. They all presented themselves well.

Another train trip, this time to the port of Durban. Africa is beautiful, and along the way they passed farms and small African villages. There were plenty of fruits growing by the roads, including peaches and bananas. Once in Durban, they waited a few days for another ship. She befriended more girls, with whom she visited the towns. They got word to load onto the ship "New Amsterdam." It was immense, and there were many military men on it.

There were pilots from New Zealand, and some British. The girls tried to talk to them, but only through gestures, because no one could speak English very well, and no one had a dictionary. Below deck were some Italian prisoners, who fought alongside the Germans in Africa, and who had been captured. Now, the prisoners served them at their tables as waiters.

How different this voyage is than the last! Janka was happy, everything pleased her. She had made a family from her friends. They all promised each other not to have too close of contact with the soldiers. But before long, they were having conversations through gestures with the men in the watchtowers. What comical moments! There was much laughing, much singing, but not one scandal.

Many of the girls were seasick. For a while, the ship sailed along by itself. But one morning, they woke to find the ship surrounded by about 30 other ships. One after the other, they followed each other. There were also escort ships. Apparently, this area was very dangerous, as there were German U-Boats below the surface. Not many of the girls were aware of the danger surrounding them.

The girls organized drills, and the soldiers assigned each of them a place on the lifeboats, just in case. Still, the young girls did not thing about death.

One morning, they woke to find that the convoy had dispersed, each ship going its own way. It seemed that it should now be safer from German U-Boats. They were surprised, therefore, when the sirens began to howl on the ship. They all ran onto deck in whatever they had been sleeping in. They put on their life vests and went to their assigned places. They could hear explosions. A German U-Boat ahead was releasing mines and it seemed that every second they would run into one of them. On the other side of the ship, lifeboats were lowered. The soldiers stepped calmly into the boats. This was no time for panic.

Janka quickly thought to say a prayer. She didn’t want to die. After so many trevails, when life was starting to look up, the end comes. The seconds seemed like eons. Did the prayers of their dead mothers, or simply fate intervene? From the clouds appeared fighter planes. The submarine abandoned its prey, disappearing into the depths. Everyone whispered prayers of thanksgiving to God. They were spared.

After a few days, the ship reached the coast of England. Such joy! Land to stand upon! Cars were already waiting to take them to the mess for a meal. Then, they were taken to large villas, which the British people had donated for military housing.  There they began meetings, roll calls, medical examinations. Many girls were chosen to work in the kitchen, others as waitresses. They did not know the English language, so they had little choice. Janka was selected to work in the kitchen.

First, however, they had to go through military training. Then, they were taken to culinary school. Soon, they were given their WAFF uniforms, with a Polish Air Force Eagle on their cap and the Poland flash on their shoulders. They were handsome uniforms, the same as the British wore. They learned muster, and how to march and salute.

In the evenings, there was much laughter and joking, especially when the skirts were too small or too big. It was difficult to fasten the garters to their stockings.

They had to lay down on their beds and ask a friend to fasten it for them. The skirts and pants look messy when they are wrinkled, but they had no iron. So, they placed them between the mattress and sheets, and slept peacefully on top of them.

Lessons, lessons all day long for six weeks. Then, they took their military oaths. On a beautiful morning, they pledged to be faithful to and serve their country. Of course, Janka’s thoughts turned to Poland. How will it be when the war ends and she can go back home?

The next day, they left for their culinary course. What could she know about cooking? Still, she needed to try and learn something. The courses were in English, but there was an interpreter. They taught her how to measure in ounces and pounds.

The classes were held during the day, and in the evenings the girls went for walks to the army canteens. There were many Poles there, going through pilot training. There, Janka met her future husband. His name was Joseph, and he had gone through the Russian camps as well. He was in radio school, and upon finishing he would go into the bomber division.

After finishing the culinary course, Janka was assigned to the 300th Squadron, a Polish Bomber Squadron. Sorties left every night to bomb Germany. Many bombers never returned. Janka worked in the kitchen at the shift change. It was difficult work, but she obtained the rank of corporal, so she became responsible for serving the meals. They served about 800 meals per shift. They lived in military barracks. They were young, and they would travel and visit nearby towns on bicycles. They had other interests as well. Joseph and Janka continued their correspondence through the end of the war.

(Janka and Joseph)

It was 1945 and the end of the war. Everyone is still hopeful that they can return to Poland. It would not happen, however. Roosevelt, Churchill and Stalin met in Potsdam and gave Poland to Stalin as a present. The country that had fought since 1939 for its freedom had its freedom taken away. Poles were not even allowed to take part in the victory parade in London. The British Government issued a statement that all Poles should return to rebuild Poland, but no one wanted to return to a Poland ruled by the Russian Communist Regime.

Everyone was concerned now about their future. In the fall, Janka and Joseph were married, and began to plan a family. They were both still in the military, so Janka’s new husband was transferred to the 300th Squadron. They moved to a house outside the base. Halfway through 1946, Janka became pregnant with their first child. Once she could no longer fit into her uniform, she was discharged from the service.

Janka and Joseph knew that they would not return to Poland. Joseph was still in the service when, in 1947, their first son Zbyszek was born. Once again, the family moved to another air force station, where they lived off base. They were happy, their child was healthy, they had few troubles.

In 1949, Joseph was discharged from the service. They had to look for work and begin to live as civilians. They moved near Leeds, and Janka’s husband gets a job in a glass factory. They found a two-bedroom home, and had a few Polish families in the area. Still, there was no future for them here.

They had to leave England. The British had been good to them; they had accepted so many Polish soldiers. Now, the American Congress had issued 16,000 entry visas for Polish military personnel. All, however, needed to have sponsors in the United States. Janka remembered that her mother had once told her that she had distant cousins in America. She wrote to her uncle back in Poland, and asked for their names and address.

Luckily, they received the address, and immediately wrote to their cousins, asking whether they could supply an affidavit. After a few weeks, Janka and Joseph received the answer: Yes, they would supply an affidavit, and some money to start off.

The year is 1951, three days before Easter. The family stands on the deck of the ship "Scythia", looking to the future. What will this new land bring us?

CHAPTER FOUR POSTSCRIPT

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