Mrs Janina (Rydel) Nowoslawski

(Janka)

YEARS OF TEARS - YEARS OF SURVIVAL

The Steamship "Scythia" arrives in the Port of New York. It is a beautiful morning, and the deck is full of people. Among them is a family. A husband and wife, holding their four-year-old boy by the hands. The mother’s eyes are awash with tears. In the distance she can see the Statue of Liberty, and she is trying to direct her son’s attention to it. This is the memory she wants him to carry in his heart, for here lies his future. She had read that the statue was engraved with the words:

Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me:

I lift my lamp beside the golden door.

Scythia

This new place would indeed become their new homeland. She had already endured so very much in her life.

She was born on March 30, 1926, in the town of Wysoka, near Lancut, in the province of Rzeszow, Poland. Her name: Janka. Janka had a happy and carefree childhood with her parents. On Sundays during the summer, she would take long walks through the forest with her father. There, he introduced her to nature, and animals, and showed her how ants built their hills. They would spend hours talking, and then they would gather flowers, lilies of the valley and others. When they brought them home, her mother would joke that they would all suffocate from the intense smell of the blooms. They were so happy together.

(Janka's Father (seated), WW1 photo)

Then came September 1, 1939, and war! The Germans had attacked Poland. Although warplanes were bombing the villages and cities, no one was hopeless, at least at

"Any day now, the war will end." they all said. In the new school year, Janka was set to begin 7k" grade. She hadn’t yet decided what direction she would take thereafter. But for now, everything was closed.

Within a week, the Germans arrived. Tanks overtook the streets, and soldiers were everywhere. An ammunition train was bombed and destroyed. The people began building shelters, simply to make it through the next few months, for everyone believed that England and France were preparing their defense of Poland.

That never occurred. On the I 7^th" of September, the Russians invaded Poland from the East. And thus, the two old friends, Russia and Germany, divided the nation of Poland between themselves. The border between the Russian occupied Poland and the German occupied Poland stood a half-mile away from Janka’s house, on the Solokija river. Her family found itself on the Russian side. No one knew what to expect. Janka’ s father told her, "You can’t trust the Russians." Still, no one thought of escape, for to where could one escape? This was their home.

The Russian soldiers who guarded the new border came to their home frequently, to warm themselves and to get a hot meal. They told stories of the poverty back in Russia, but no one believed them. One soldier, who called Janka’s mother "Auntie," said, "You know, you are living in paradise. In Russia, if you have a pair of shoes, then it is shared by your entire family." Although Janka and her family understood Ukrainian, it was different enough from the Russian dialect spoken by the soldiers that not all the conversations were understandable. Thus passed the days and weeks.

Soon, the border became more restricted. There were more guards on duty, and it was increasingly difficult to cross. Wounded Polish soldiers returning home found the borders impassible, so the local families began to bribe the border guards to allow for their safe passage. One evening, in late autumn, Janka’s family heard machine-gun fire from the direction of the border. Surely, the border guards were chasing someone. Before nightfall, however, all was quiet. That night, someone knocked lightly at the family’s window. Janka’s father opened the door. There stood a bloodied man, pleading for help. The man fell to the ground. Janka’s parents carried the man inside the house, and fashioned a bandage for his hand, which was barely attached to his arm.

"Who are you?" They asked.

The man told them that the Nazis had rounded up all the Jews from the surrounding villages, herded them toward the border, and ordered them to wade into the Russian territory through the river. Once the villagers were in the water, however, the Nazis began shooting them. Since the Russians did not want the refugees either, they too began shooting at the escaping villagers. Many of them died there in the river, including women and children, but those who survived hid in the brush until nightfall, and then went searching for help. At first light, Janka’s father took the man to the local doctor and left him there to be moved when he was better. This act of kindness was noticed by some Ukrainian Nazi sympathizers and reported to the Russian authorities.

Although Christmas was approaching, there were no celebrations. No one could go to church, as it lay on the other side of the river, and thus across the border. Something was hanging in the air, but no one knew what. People lived with the thought that the war must surely be ending, and all would soon be well.

The Russian soldiers continued to come to the. Polish villager’s homes. Each time, there were more of them. They began searching the homes to see what they could take for themselves. At Janka’s home, the soldiers took a liking to a wall clock, and so they took it. They liked some figurines, and took those as well. Each farmer was told that he must give the Russian Army a certain amount of flour and meat. No one could protest such an order, for to whom? People began instead to hide their food and supplies. Soon there was a shortage of salt, sugar, and fuel.

One day, their horse died. Janka’s father had bought it at the marketplace after their other horses were taken by the soldiers. A neighbor came by, and he and Janka’s father discussed where to bury the horse. They determined, however, that if the war continued, there would be a shortage of leather for shoes. So, they decided to skin the horse and cure the hide. Truthfully, none of them knew how to cure a horsehide. Janka’s family hung the hide on the wall of the stable, carefully sprinkling it with flour to allow it to dry. A few days later, however, when they looked into the stable, the hide was gone. Only scraps lay on the ground near where the hide had been. It seems that the mice from the fields had eaten the entire hide.

Day after day went by, and a great amount of snow fell. Then came February 10, 1940, a memorable day for Janka and her family. At 5:00 a.m., they heard pounding on the door and screaming. "Open the door! Hands up! Where are your weapons?" yelled a Russian soldier. Behind him were two Ukrainian boys whom Janka’s family knew; they had joined the Russian’s so-called military police. They said to her father, "Now we are in charge." They had reported Janka's father for helping the Jewish villagers.

Her father had never been a wealthy man. He worked in the fields of their farm. In addition, he had a small cement business, in which he made building blocks, casing for wells, and sidewalks. Occasionally, when he got a big job, he would bring others in so that they could earn extra money as well. They would haul in the sand and cement, and help him in the work. People respected her father. Those same Ukrainian boys had worked for him. Now they were standing by as his judges. He had not reported the Jewish villagers seeking help to the Russian authorities so his family was to suffer the same destiny.

The soldiers gave them half an hour to gather their things. They were impatient and could not wait for the sleigh that had been conscripted for transport. They noticed that there was a horse in the stable, so they ordered Janka’s father to hitch the horse to the sleigh. Her mother took some sheets and blankets, some underclothes, a few cooking pots, a bag of flour, some buckwheat, salt pork, and some other small items. In a half-hour, not much could be packed Janka wanted to take her cats, but the soldiers would not allow it.

As they were leaving, Janka grabbed the picture of Our Lady of Czestochowa that she had gotten from her grandfather as a present. She also took her bedspread. They did not know where they were going, nor when they would return. When all were in the sleigh, the soldier jumped in and ordered Janka’s father to drive to the school in the neighboring village. We took one last look at our home, and said farewell.

As Janka’s home was vanishing in the distance, their loyal dog continued to chase the sleigh. Janka called, "come, Brys!" When the dog came close to the sleigh, the soldier raised his rifle and shot him. As he was shooting, he said to Janka, "Calm down or I’ll shoot you like I shot your dog." The dog faltered, and blood appeared on the snow. He ran a little further, and fell down dead.

It was bitterly cold when they arrived at the school in the next village. Already, there was a crowd, including some of their neighbors and friends. For a while, the soldiers told them to wait, for they too were awaiting their orders: where they all were being sent, and when they would return. Some of the small children began crying from hunger, so someone began to distribute bread and milk to the littlest ones. Finally, the soldiers ordered them all back onto the sleighs. They started taking them in the direction of the train station.

When they reached the train station, they could see a long freight train at the platform. The soldiers began loading 5 to 10 families, depending on their size, into each boxcar. The soldiers who had brought them there left immediately, having fulfilled their duty. Now, they were all under the care of the KGB police.

Their turn came as well. Taking their bundles, Janka and her mother got into the boxcar. All the while, the soldiers were hurrying them along. Some were yelling to Janka’s father, "You, why are you waiting here?" They apparently thought that he was a hired driver. Janka’s mother began signaling him to drive off "This is your last chance! Go!" she seemed to say. After a moment of indecision, he walked up to the soldier and explained that his family was already in a freight car. He came into the car, and told Janka’s mother, "whatever will happen to you will also happen to me." Then, the doors were shut behind him.

For a long time after that, the soldiers were still loading families into the train cars like cattle. Families with babies, the Elderly, all tried to maneuver themselves into the small spaces within the freight cars as best they could. Thankfully, everyone had pillows and warm blankets, and parents could fashion makeshift beds for their children. Still, the children were hungry , as were the adults.

Some of the older passengers began to foretell that they were simply being removed from the border area for a few weeks, and would soon return home.

Janka’s freight car held 8 families 45 people in all. One family had bread that it had brought from home. They shared it among all the people In the middle of the car stood a small round stove. Had there been any wood, they could have started a fire, at least to heat some milk for a child! But where was the toilet? The adults looked around and found a hole in the floor. Yes, they agreed, this must be the toilet. But how can it be used? In the open for all to see? Soon, a sheet was found, and some of the passengers fashioned a screen. Sometime during that night, the train began to move.

By the second day, they had received no food from their captors. All shared the food that they had taken with them from home. They were given no water, either. There were, however, small windows beneath the roof of the freight car, and the snow from the roof was within reach. When the collected snow melted, they had water. It was not much, for how much snow can one collect with one’s hand? Still, it was water!

Now the older passengers began complaining about the manner in which they had been taken from their homes, and how they had no idea where they were going.

The train moved so slowly, and was so very long. It was, after all, filled beyond capacity with people. At each turn of the tracks, they could see the people in other cars as they waved their hands out the tiny windows. In this way, Janka’s mother recognized her sister as a passenger in a nearby car. Her mother had been sure that her sister had not been taken, as she had five young children.

By the third day, the train was nearing the old Polish-Russian border, At this point, they could see more trains, just like theirs, filled to the rafters with people. All were going East. The human tragedy was just beginning. All the passengers were pushing to the tiny windows to try to glance the Polish border one last time. Farewell Poland! Some were crying, many were praying, one person fainted. Again, the snow was useful to revive her.

The older passengers now have no doubts. The Russians were taking them into exile in Siberia — as they did with thousands of Poles before them. But why were they now taking whole families along with their children?

The train passed Russian cities and villages, and their poverty was apparent. Finally, at one station, the soldiers opened the doors to the boxcar and ordered that two men from each car take buckets and get soup and bread. They also gave them a bag of coal to fuel the stove. By then, it had become bitterly cold. They could not even wash themselves, as there was simply no way.

Sometime after a week, the first child died. He had been whimpering quietly all along. About six months old, his mother was still nursing him. After her milk ran out, the boy died quietly. The parents knew that they had to bury him. At the next stop, they knocked at the doors so that the soldiers would open them. When one soldier realized what they wanted, he opened the door and took the boy’s body. He laid it right on the platform. Moments later, the train pulled away from the station. Thus it began — at nearly every station were left the bodies of children and the elderly.

By that time, no one was sharing their supplies. Those who had food tried as best they could to hide it for themselves and for their families. Earlier, when the soldiers had distributed the smelt soup, no one wanted to eat it. Now, they were given one smelt to share among several people.

It was then two weeks since they had been taken from their homes. Some were crying, others praying, but the children were still thinking of games to play. Whenever the train stopped at a larger station; a soldier would open the doors and call out two persons to go for bread. Occasionally, they would include some soup or buckwheat cereal, other times they would only give them hot water. It was, nonetheless, entirely too little and all the people were hungry and sick.

In the third week, the train passed the last of the barren plains and entered a vast forest. Within a few days, the train finally stopped. The station: Swierdlowsk-Ural.

CHAPTER TWO SWIERDLOWSKI

(CLICK ABOVE FOR CHAPTER TWO)

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Copyright © 2001 Janina Nowoslawski
Last modified: June 30, 2001