The White Crosses of Warsaw

The Poles - Defeating Hitler only yields another kind of tyrant

Monte Cassino: April 30 to May 23, 1944

Patrol

Aftermath

Wspomnienia (po Polsku) - Memoirs (in Polish)

The White Crosses of Warsaw - (Hanna Czuma)

"Only dead remain young forever," said Janusz, my companion and guide for a 1990 tour of Warsaw. I didn't agree with him but had no ready answer and thought it better not to say anything. There would be time for discussion later.

Warsaw had been the city of my youth, and just being there made me feel very much alive and, oh, so young. I wanted to walk every street, look into every building, feed the pigeons in Lazienki park, run, dance, sing, and meet the people I once knew and tell them they didn't look a day older.

It was a cloudy, cold morning and rain was expected later on the day, but to me nothing mattered except that I could be here at last, on my first visit to my homeland - Poland - after almost 50 years. I had never met Janusz or his wife, Irene, before, yet there seemed to be a bond between us. Their son Andrew lives in London, Ontario, where I now reside, and when I was leaving for Poland he telephoned his parents in Warsaw and asked them to look after me there. We had all belonged to the Home Army during the German occupation of Poland in World War II, so Andrew thought we would have a lot in common.

He was right. We had much to remember and share when we met. Janusz offered to show me around the city. "Where would you like to go? what do you want to see?" he asked. I didn't hesitate: "Would you show me something that belonged to my past that I could still feel a part of?"

"That should not be difficult. I know exactly what you mean."

First we went to see the monument commemorating the Warsaw Uprising, which took place in the summer of 1944. The monument is situated at the exact spot where Polish fighters who defended the historic old town had come into the city centre through a sewer opening. When the old town was surrounded by German soldiers, the sewer canal was their only escape route.

The imposing monument has two parts: a group of fighters stand by the entrance of a ruined building, then the fighters are portrayed looking into the canal opening where those who escaped are coming out.

The site evoked memories of our youthful enthusiasm; we had hoped we could defeat the oppressor and be free again. We trusted in our own meager strength, help from the Allies and, at the end, in miracles. I recalled how reality then took over with bombs, gun-fire and shrapnel. Crosses soon marked the shallow graves of those who fell. After two months of fighting, our hopes lay in ruins, Warsaw was burning and we were herded into cattle-wagons to be taken to a prisoner of war camp somewhere in Germany.

A monument to the Jewish Uprising of 1943 was next on our agenda. It is smaller than the other, done in relief. Each figure is just large enough to show the emaciation and despair of the tormented figures. I was moved by it's simplicity and gentleness. It speaks expressively to passers-by, inspiring them to stop, ponder and perhaps to pray. I remember how, in 1941, my mother hid a Jewish doctor in our apartment. At the slightest knoch or movement outside our door, he had to hide in a closet; these were days when assisting a Jew was punishable by death. Months later someone had come for our guest, to smuggle him out of the city with false documents. We never knew whether he made it.

Next we visited Pawiak. Today it is a museum, but I recalled how the building and it's very name had played in the horror stories of Warsaw's people. It was a place of interrogation and torture and a gateway to the concentration camps. Very few left Pawiak for freedom once the door had closed behind them. One of those lost in this way was Father Kordecki, my priest and friend. It was dangerous to be a priest during the occupation, and he knew he was risking his life when he visited prisoners in civilian clothes, hiding the communion host under his shirt. One day he was apprehended and we never saw him again.

I realized my past was filled with people who had disappeared from my life in similar circumstances. I found several of them when we entered the military part of Powazki cemetary, on the outskirts of Warsaw. They were buried in row upon row, many of the graves marked with white birch crosses. Some of the graves had names , others were nameless. When bodies had been transferred from their temporary graves in the squares, courtyards and backyards of the city after the war, not all could be identified. Beside the names were marked the pseudonyms we had used in the underground. I found some who had been my closest companions: "Rudy", "Maciek", "Erica" and others. A single larger cross bearing the pseudonym "Rafal" stood apart and on an angle, as if the former commanding officer was about to give orders or talk with his soldiers.

Janusz and I stood there for a long while without a word, two elderly veterans absorbed in thought, reading on a large metal plaque the names of all those killed. It didn't matter whether our faces where wet from tears or from the first raindrops falling from the sky, which was weeping with us. The air was still, as if suddenly suspended like the lives of those we had come to visit.

"It's time to go back. Irene will be waiting with supper, " said Janusz, gently taking my arm.

As we turned towards the street, leaving the crosses behind, I looked back. There was something about them that puzzled me - the neat birch crosses looked new. How was it possible after 50 years? "They are constantly being replaced", Janusz explained. "Warsaw remembers its defenders. In this way, our dead will never be forgotten."

"And will remain young forever?" I was beginning to understand the meaning of his earlier remark.

He smiled but didn't answer. I looked at the tall, grey-haired man walking beside me. He held his head high, squared his shoulders and, without realizing it, had assumed a military step. He appeared younger than his years, and I told him so.

"Well, yes, I feel that too", he agreed. "Perhaps in some way the old soldiers never stop being young, dead or alive. You know, sometimes I think that those special years stamped us with an invisible seal burned so deeply that it penetrated the core of our being forever."

"This may be why those who have lived through wars, uprisings and upheavals always like to seek others with the same experiences," I agreed.

"And why they write memoirs. And, when asked, will tell you that in spite of all the hardships and heartbreak those years remain the most treasured and memorable in their lives."

Now I knew what had made me feel the old enthusiasm from the moment of my arrival in Warsaw, and what had created the bond between Janusz, Irene and myself. Warsaw was practically a new city. It had risen like a phoenix from the ashes - and yet it spoke to me of past pain, present struggles and hopes for the future. It was the same undefeatable, incurable hope I remembered.

Yes, it was my city, the same as before, vibrating with life. It greeted me with open arms, embracing my longing heart with the places, people and happenings I had never forgotten. Up to now they had been alive only in my writing, now they stood before me in reality.

It is in such memories, in going back in space and time that, I, Janusz, Irene and countless others remain young forever.

The Poles - Defeating Hitler only yields another kind of tyrant

The following article appeared in the London Free Press on Thursday May 4, 1995. All three men, Mr. J. Pasierbek, Mr. J. Wisniewski and Mr. K. Macugajlo, are members of the London branch of the Polish Combatants Association.

This article is reproduced with permission by the London Free Press. Further use of this article without written permission of the London Free Press is prohibited.

The Poles - Defeating Hitler only yields another kind of tyrant

When it was all over, the Poles couldn't go home.

First victims of Nazi armed agression, the Poles had fought the longest and against the most daunting odds to overthrow Hitler and rid Europe of his slave empire, which existed at its most savage level in Nazi-occupied Poland.

When the Poles had at long last helped destroy Hitler, their beloved Poland was under the boot of another merciless tyrant, Josef Stalin, and the Red Army.

Poles fought in the ill-fated Narvik operation in Norway, in the Battle of Britain, across the deserts of North Africa, in the mud and mountains of Italy, the deadly hedgerow country of Normandy. A Polish airborne division was nearly wiped out in the disastrous airborne assualt on "the bridge too far" at Arnhem.

Polish fighting units survived by absorbing Poles who had been impressed into Hitler's increasing polyglot army.

"We were in northern Italy, near Bologna, when we got word that the war was over," says Jan Pasierbek of London. He was a corporal in the 5th Polish Division which, side-by-side with the Canadians, had slugged its way up the Italian boot, adding names like Monte Cassino to its battle honors. On the way, Pasierbek was wounded three times.

WHAT NOW? "We were happy to know it was over, but the question came to our minds right away -- what happens to us?

"We had no home, no family." His family had died in a Soviet prison camp after Stalin seized Eastern Poland in 1939, at the same time as Hitler's armies were tearing into Poland from the west and North. It was part of the cynical Soviet-German Non-Aggression Pact that helped trigger the Second World War.

Pasierbek was amoung the thousands of Polish soldiers marched into Soviet prison camps in 1939. When Germany attacked the Soviet Union in June, 1941, Stalin thought better of the Poles. He let thousands make their way south into Persia and the Middle East, where they were armed and trained by the British.

Many fought in the see-saw North African campaign as part of the Polish Brigade in the 8th Army. One of them was Sergeant Jan Wisniewski, now of London, who at 32 was old for a soldier.

"I had escaped (from Poland) through Hungary, Yugoslavia, Greece and Turkey into Syria. When the Vichy French (Nazi allies) took over there, I escaped into Palestine."

"We all more or less went through the same thing," says Klemens (Klem) Macugajlo, who was let out of the Soviet Union in 1942 "at the time when the Germans were attacking Stalingrad. The Russians had promised us all sorts of arms and equipment but they didn't give us anything. They didn't trust us."

Macugajlo also fought in Italy, where he was wounded twice.

COAL MINES: "I felt depressed when it was over. We had no celebration," Macugajlo says. "We were like refugees, gypsies. We had no country to go back to -- we would have wound up in the coal mines in Russia."

All three men were amoung 4,000 Polish soldiers who came to Canada after the war, 400 of them to the London area.

"I made a good choice," says Pasierbek, but he can hardly hold in the tears when he thinks of what happened 50 years ago.

"The saddest part of it was when the great Victory Parade was held in London, England. There was no place in it for us."

Monte Cassino: April 30 to May 23, 1944 - Romuald E. Lipinski

Battle of Monte Cassino has been written about extensively so I will not waste time describing it in general terms. I will limit myself to my experiences and my opinions.

Sometime at the beginning of April we were taken out from the Sangro Line to a camp near Campobasso, which is located in the central part of the Italian peninsula. We spent there about three weeks during which again we went through an extensive and exhaustive physical training. Finally, we were told that we are going to be sent to Monte Cassino and we knew what that meant. We saw from Pescopennataro flashing of artillery salvos and we knew that the Allies are getting a bloody nose over there. We heard about the fiasco at Anzio, and when the news broke about us going to Monte Cassino, we knew that not everybody will come back.

We came to the Cassino area on April 30, 1944. Our temporary camp was in an olive orchard, few kilometers from the Cassino town. It was about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, when I went to the edge of the orchard and took a look at the monastery. There was a valley in front of me, maybe four kilometers wide and at the other end of the valley there were rather steep mountains, about 500 feet high. To the left, I could see a powerful mountain, covered with smoke, and the ruins of once beautiful monastery. There was one thing that impressed me: between our orchard and the hills the valley was covered with beautiful, red poppies. Beauty of these flowers was in striking contrast with the grim brutality of war. Later on when we were already in battle, when I wanted to divert myself from the reality of our situation, I often looked at these beautiful flowers and I always could find a relief in thinking that somewhere life is going on, serene, happy, where people go about their daily chores, life so different from ours. These poppies were in a striking contrast with our immediate surrounding: death, death and once more death. Maybe there is some truth in the song composed for us, "Red Poppies of Conte Cassino", that says thaat they will be more red than before because they soaked a lot of Polish blood...

Looking at this panoramic view it was evident that the enemy, situated on the top of the hills, had an excellent view into the valley and the slopes of the hills, where our troops were located. At that time I did not know the whole history of the battle of Monte Cassino. I did not know that the fighting for these mountains was going for four months, but I knew that it was a tough going, and that we will be going up those hills next. Looking at the chain of hills in front of me I could see explosions of artillery shells here and there. Our artillery was shelling some enemy positions hidden in folds of the mountains.

We were told to deliver to the headquarters all papers that could identify us by name or by the regiment. All personal papers, letters to our families, documents etc., had to be collected and left with the regimental office. The only thing that we were allowed to retain were the dog tags, and the equipment that consisted of one blanket, mess kit, and of course, our side arms, in my case my rifle, and ammo. We were given sneakers, or sometimes rubber boots, and, I think it was 31-st of April, as soon as it became dark, we started our march towards the hills. We were told that any talk while marching is forbidden, because the enemy could hear it and that would bring on us artillery fire. Truck and carrier drivers and regimental administration remained with the headquarters.

At the foot of the hills there was a fast flowing Rapido river, which we crossed through a wooden bridge. On the other side of the river there were some barracks, in varying degree of destruction. We were stopped from further march, up the hills, because what we had to climb was a narrow foot path. A convoy with mules was coming down in the opposite direction and the foot path was too narrow to accommodate two columns - one going down and the other going up. Climbing the hills outside of the foot path was impossible due to land mines scattered everywhere. We waited for the convoy on the small yard near the barracks, packed like sardines, for about half of an hour and then resumed our trip. When we climbed far enough that the last men from our regiment were leaving our waiting area by the barracks, few artillery or mortar shells exploded right where our regiment was not long ago. If the Germans did fire on us few minutes earlier there would be a bloody mess. We were so close together that any shell would result in a massive carnage. We were walking in complete silence, it is hard to estimate how long did we walk, but finally we reached the positions of our predecessors. I think they were British. We did not have to change anything as far as our equipment is concerned: they had their mortars in place with various targets marked. One of them was the monastery. It was difficult to orient myself where we were at that time. On the basis of what I read about our movements during that period we must have been somewhere in the area of the Great Bowl ("Wielka Miska"). After two days we were moved, during night of course, to the left end of the Polish forces, to the hills almost overlooking the town of Cassino. Further to the left of us were some troops from the XIII British Corps. I sheared my shelter with Stefan Strasz. He was a carpenter before the war. He was square- built man and strong as a horse. He was a great companion. Together we found some wooden beams which we brought to our post and we built our shelter. We could not dig it in the ground because there was a rock right at the surface, so it had to be made on the surface. We found a ruined shed that had concrete floor and one concrete wall against the mountain. We leaned our beams against the vertical wall, put some material to protect us from rain and this was our shelter. It was just big enough that two men could sleep there. The shed floor was not bigger than 12 feet square and our shelter was about 4 feet wide. Germans were shelling us, probably with mortars, usually at night. One shell exploded right next to our shelter. It wasn't more than two feet from us. It was probably a mortar shell, or a howitzer, because the trajectory would be too steep for an field artillery piece. During the shelling I experienced for the first time claustrophobia. When somebody is locked up in a dangerous situation there is an overwhelming desire to get out on an open field, away from the enclosure. The common sense tells you that it is safer to stay where you are, nevertheless, one wants to get out. I experienced this feeling many times. Sometimes, I was in my carrier, on the road that was shelled by artillery. There was that urge to get out from the carrier and lay down somewhere in a ditch, though it was safer in the carrier, because unless there was a direct hit, carrier protected me from fragments of an exploded shell. A carrier had no roof but had about ¯ inch steel walls that offered some protection from machine guns firing and shrapnels.

We knew that there will be an offensive on the monastery, and that we will be playing a major role. Being in the mortar platoon we were not in the most advanced positions, but we were quite close to the enemy. Our shelter was camouflaged and could not be seen by Germans, but we had to walk with our heads down, otherwise there was an immediate fire. Our line platoons were so close to Germans that they could throw hand grenades at them. Sometimes, when our advanced positions required us to fire on Germans, some of our shells landed among our own troops due to vicinity to Germans. Yet, they did not allow us to fire further from them because, they claimed, our firing would be behind the enemy lines. There was always a shortage of food and water. Everything had to be brought by mules or in the final stage by men. Sometimes the mules were scattered around on the way up by German fire, got blown up on the mines, and only a fraction of the supplies arrived. Fortunately, at the bottom of the hills we found an old, American food warehouse. It was destroyed by artillery but there was a lot of cans with all kinds of food laying around. We found a safe path to get there and when we needed food we would go there to supplement our rations.

The area was a living testimony of what war is all about. There was not one tree that did have its branches green with leaves. There were only naked limbs, stumps, sticking out here and there. Grass has disappeared also. Bare rocks, covered with dust, unfriendly, were everywhere. Also, there was a testimony of what was there in the past - dead bodies. Some were half decomposed, some half covered with dust or whatever dirt could be scraped from the surface, in most cases, they were covered with lime. These were the reminders of the ferocious fighting that was going there for four months, since January, when the American 34-th and 36-th Division made the first assault, crossed the Rapido river just to be decimated by the Germans. Both of these fine divisions were practically ceased to exist as a fighting force. The entire history of the battle could be read from these corpses. There were corpses of the Americans, Germans, Gurkhas, British soldiers, some with their faces half eaten by insects, mice or other animals, darkened by time, empty eyes, with only teeth shining. Odor from these decomposing bodies was suffocating. They were all quiet now, resting in their eternal sleep after the dance of death a few months ago. Every time I looked at one of them a sad thought was going through my mind: when will I be like them? In this situation I realized that the odds are against me, that it is just a matter of time when my number will come up and sooner or later I will be looked at just the way I looked at these dead men, who at one time were young, vigorous, full of life and hopes for future. And look at them now.

And flies. They were big, fat, gorging themselves on the dead, decomposing bodies. Stink of death was everywhere. And there, down below was that beautiful valley full of red poppies. At times it was hard to realize the contrast: here an atmosphere of death and destruction and there beauty, peace and quiet. I thought: how these two worlds can coexist sided by side. But that how it was.

North of the monastery there was a chain of mountains that was considered to be crucial to the success of the offensive. Our role in the assault was to secure the left wing of the 3-rd Battalion of the 3-rd Carpathian Division which was opposite the famous Hill 593, full of German bunkers. For that reason, our most advanced troops, 2-nd and 3-rd squadrons (in cavalry we had squadrons rather than battalions, which were in infantry) were very close to Germans. Of course, under these conditions any movement had to be confined to a night time only and even then in complete silence. Distance between our most advanced positions to the monastery was about 700 m and to the closest German bunkers only 80 -100 m. Germans were on the Hill 445 and a small place called D'Onufrio, which dominated the entire sector of the front. About 900 m north behind the first line of our positions was the regimental HQ, located in a house that was demolished by artillery fire, but at the lower level there were two rooms that did provide some shelter. About 500 m to the east of the regimental HQ was the 1-st squadron, in reserve. Our mortars were located somewhere south of the regimental HQ. It is difficult to locate our positions exactly, because hills look different in the terrain than on a map. The description of our positions location that is given here is on the basis of the available information provided in the history of the 12-Podolski Lancers Regiment, "Uáani Podolscy", and the "History of the 3-rd Infantry Division," (History) Vol. I, which are written in Polish. The History reports that even before the offensive (4-th Battle of Monte Cassino) started the total losses of the 3-rd Carpathian Division were 236 men, including officers, due to the constant shelling of our positions by Germans.

The offensive started with an artillery barrage exactly at 11:00 PM, on May 11, 1944. I never saw anything like it. The entire area where the olive orchards were was in constant fireworks. I saw similar pictures of the artillery barrage in movies, about the battle of El Alamain, in Africa. One could hear the noise of artillery shells in the air. The Germans were quiet for a while. After some time German batteries started to respond. We found out later on that our artillery did not do much damage to the Germans on the front line. They had two kinds of shelters: one type was combat shelters, for firing at us and the other to protect them from our artillery and air bombardment, to rest and sleep. The combat shelters were well camouflaged, most of them were made out of steel pillboxes, encased in the rock. One of the problems that our attacking forces encountered was that they did not have reconnaissance of the enemy nests of machine guns, and they had to figure out wher the enemy is already being fired upon. And the Germans knew how to hide themselves...The shelters where they were sleeping were usually in large caves, protected from air attacks and artillery fire. They had their supplies there, their temporary medical facilities, and so on. Thus when our artillery started to fire they took refuge in the shelters that were prepared for that purpose and did not suffer many casualties. When our infantry started to advance they went to their firing shelters and our troops met a stiff resistance. Another thing that is worth to note, and not mentioned in many books, is the fact that when the offensive started Germans were releasing the troops that were at the Cassino complex. Thus although they perhaps suffered more casualties in the first stage of the battle, they could mount their counterattacks with greater strength than it would be if only the initial garrison of soldiers was there.

Organization of our forces was modeled by the British system. The 12-th Podolski Lancers Regiment had in combat group three squadrons, each consisting of 9 officers and 80 troops. Additionally, there was a platoon of each: mortars, anti-tank guns, signals, administration, mechanical repairs, and other services, such as health, chaplain, etc. In infantry the basic unit was a battalion, consisting of three companies, 120 troops and 5 officers each, plus some services. Total number of men in a battalion was 808 soldiers and 37 officers.

At first, the assault of 2-nd Battalion, 1-st Brigade of the 3-rd Carpathian Division was successful. They quickly took Hill 593 and moved towards Hill 569. But then the Germans counterattacked. It is difficult to determine how many counterattacks Germans did make. After several German counterattacks, our infantry, exhausted, decimated, lacking ammunition had to withdraw. Losses of the infantry were terrible. Out of the three companies of the 2- nd battalion came back 5 officers, and 37 enlisted men. Total losses, killed, wounded and lost in action in the battalion were 216.

Forth Company of the 3-rd Battalion was supporting the 2-nd Battalion in their attack on Hill 593, also suffered appalling losses. Together with their commanding officer, ten soldiers came back out of the entire company.

Simultaneously with the attack on Hill 593 by the 2-nd Battalion, the 1-st Battalion attacked Mass Albaneta, north of Hill 593. Again, after fighting all night and good part of the next day, May 12, the battalion had to retreat to the original positions with a loss of 216 men. It should be noted, that it is difficult to establish the percentage of the losses with respect to the number of people participating in the assault, because only certain fraction of the battalion was participating.

Further north, tanks from the 4-th Panzer Regiment attempted to get on the "Gardziel." The road that they had to proceed was heavily mined by the predecessors, as well as Germans, and there was no information regarding mine fields. Sapers were removing mines for three nights prior of the offensive, but in spite of heavy losses, they cleared only 250 m. removing 59 mines. Having suffered heavy losses they had to retreat to the original positions.

Assuming that the assault of the 3-rd Carpathian Division were successful, the 12-th Podolski Lancers were supposed to attack Hill 445 (Colle D'onofrio) and then proceed towards the Monastery of Monte Cassino. In view of the failure of the attack on the 11 and 12 of May, the lancers were waiting for further orders.

Meanwhile, the 5-th Infantry Division, fighting north-east of the 3-rd Division was successful in taking the Phantom Ridge (Widmo).

On May 16, a new assault was made on Hill 593. This was to be the straw that was to break the camel's back. Our commanders knew that Germans were probably exhausted enough that if they are pushed just a little bit more they will decide that they had enough. They were right. Also, after many attempts and heroic efforts with heavy losses by the sapers to clear the mines some tanks showed up at the battle field. Through the entire day of May 17 fighting for the Hill 593 was going on. During the night of May 17/18 the it was relatively quiet. Germans, by loud speakers, voiced some propaganda mixed with insults from the monastery, and we answered them by means of our mortars.

In view of the successes of the 5-th Kresowa Division in the region of the Phantom Ridge prompted the division commander to order on May 18, at about 8:45 AM, to send a patrol from our regiment to find out what is the situation in the area of the monastery. They successfullly crossed the mine field and reached the outer walls of the monastery. They found out that the Germans left the monastery during the night, leaving only 16 wounded, with two medics under a command of one officer cadet. The Germans were scared because their command told them that Poles murder their prisoners. Our men took care of the wounded, giving them the help that they could, and those who could walk were sent further to our area. It is interesting to note, that sometimes in 1970-s someone announced on German radio that Polish soldiers were killing their prisoners. To that answered one of those German paratroopers that was found by our patrol at the monastery, stating that it was a lie, that he was one of the wounded soldiers found by the Polish patrol on the 18-th of May, and that he was provided with medical care and was treated very well. The 3-rd Carpathian Division Association got involved in the act and arranged a meeting between this ex-German paratrooper and Lt. Gurbiel, the commander of that first patrol that entered the monastery. It must have been some meeting. It must have been similar to that I had on May 18, 1994 with the Germans ex-paratroopers at Monte Cassino. At that time, it was on the occasion of the 50-th anniversary of taking the Monastery, there was a big celebration at the Polish cemetary. Iza and I went with a group from Washington to Italy, and the trip was scheduled that on the 18-th of May we were at Monte Cassino. I met some of my friends, and we started to go through the sorrounding hills trying to find some familiar places. Suddenly, from one of the houses there, came three German veterans who came like us to visit German cemetary which is in a nearby village. They told us that were in the 1-st Parachute Division, the one that we had against us during the battle. They were quite friendly to us, so we started talking to them. It was a funny conversation: we were telling them how we tried to kill them and they were telling us how they did their bes to kill us. But soon we found common language. This was the first time that I was so close to German soldiers alive. They showed us their decorations, we showed them ours. They told us about another meeting with veterans from New Zealand whom they met day before. They showed us a hill where five New Zealand tanks got to. They were all destroyed, by the these German's detachment and the crew killed, with one exception: one of the New Zealanders got away. Day before our arrival he came to visit Monte Cassino and they met that man. That must have been some meeting too...

At 9:50 AM a banner of our regiment was placed at the highest point of the ruins of the monastery as a signal that it was taken by our forces. This banner is now in the General Sikorski Institute in London.

City of Cassino was also taken by the British 10-th Brigade of the XIII Corps. Although by this time Germans were emerging from cellars and dugouts to give themselves up, sporadic fighting continued throughout the day. Mines, some fanatical paratroopers that did not receive orders to withdraw were still shooting at our troops, taking a tall of our soldier's lives.

So, the battle of Monte Cassino came to an end. We left our positions on May 24. I will never forget, when we were leaving the Cassino area, we were passing close to the temporary cemetery. Long columns of bodies wrapped in blankets were laying waiting for burial. It had a chilling effect on me and on my buddies. We all realized that we were all very close to be among these less fortunate, who not long ago were young men, full of vigor and dreams about future, having somewhere somebody dear, who was praying for their safe return that will never come about. Our regiment did not suffer as heavy losses as infantry battalions: killed were one officer and 17 noncommissioned officers and lancers; wounded seven officers and 68 noncommissioned officers and lancers. Total losses were 93 soldiers which was one- quarter of the total manpower engaged in combat.

We had against us crack German division of paratroopers. The 1-st Paratroop Division was under the command of 48 year old Gen. Richard Heindrich. Directly against us was the third regiment of the 1-st division. Further north there was the 100-th Mountain Regiment. Their defense was based on resistance points that could support each other in case of need with machine guns, mortars and other weapons. Their bunkers were well camouflaged and the attackers could find them only after being shot at. The paratroopers were well trained to fight in small groups or individually, tough, ruthless soldiers, recruited either from fanatical Nazis or from gullible young men who believed that they are the master race and soon the entire world will be under their domination. There were some cases that give testimony of their fanaticism. For example, a badly wounded soldier refused blood transfusion. He preferred to die rather to have his enemy's blood in his veins. Germans were using all kinds of tricks to increase our losses. For example, at one point just taken by our troops, a man appeared in British uniform, seating at a distance in front of our soldiers. When our guys started to call him in Polish and in English he disappeared. As soon as he was gone there was a barrage of mortar shells on our troops. Evidently, he was a German sent to find out about location of our troops. Upon leaving the monastery, Germans left a lot of mines with delayed detonators. One mine exploded in the area of the monastery five days after capture of the monastery. Among the prisoners taken near the monastery there were four officers including a battalion commander. Our commander of the convoy asked capt. Beyer, German officer, about the passage through the mine field.

"Even if I knew I would not tell you. The mine field was put for you and you have to find it" - was the response.

In view of such a response they were ordered to go directly through the mine field. They went without saying anything. Four of them were killed by the exploding mines, but they did not reveal the safe passage.

After the battle our troops were very popular among the allies. Wherever we appeared we were welcomed as heroes of Monte Cassino. Sometimes, when somebody was hitchhiking, a high ranking officer be it a British, American or French, would stop invite us to his car, offer something to drink, take us wherever we wanted to go. One time we were drinking in a tavern, and at the neighboring table were some American soldiers. When they heard that we are talking Polish, one of them approached us and asked: "Polski? Polski?" When we said that we are Poles, they invited us to their table and we had a feast. Some of them were of Polish origin and they spoke some Polish, which helped us to communicate. From other tables came other American soldiers and we had to tell them about the battle, about our times in Siberia, how we got out from there, in other words the whole story. It impressed me then for the first time how little the world knows about the fact that close to two million Poles were deported to Siberia. They thought that we ran away to Russia from Germans! Anyhow, we had a big time together, and our American friends brought us to our quarters at wee hours.

The Italian campaign in general and battle of Monte Cassino in particular, has been a subject of controversy right from the beginning. There has been a lot written questioning the judgement of the ally commanders. Gen. J. F. C. Fuller, wrote that the entire campaign was "tacticaly the most absurd and strategically the most senseless campaign of the whole war" (History, Vol. I, p. 407). Gen. Francis Tuker, Commander of the 4-th Indian Division which was practically wiped out during the second battle of Monte Cassino wrote that the strategy of British commanders is an obsession that they have to attack the enemy at the point where he is strong rather that take advantage of his weakness ("...It is an extraordinary obsession in British commanders' minds that they must challenge the enemy's strength rather than play on his weakness. Perhaps it is a little bit unsporting to pit strength against weakness" - History, Vol. I, p. 408). Would it be easier to dislodge Germans from their positions elsewhere? Probably there is no answer to this question. Most of the Italian peninsula is covered with mountains, the terrain that is ideal to defensive warfare. The only other segment that could offer more favorable terrain conditions was on the Adriatic coast, a rolling type of countryside. That area would be favorable to a tank action and perhaps there Germans would be more vulnerable. But Cassino was on the way to Rome and it is well known that all generals are primaballerinas anxious to get their name on front page of news papers. As a matter of fact, if Gen. Mark Clark, commander of the 5-th American Army, instead of going straight to Rome did strike retreating Germans across the Italian peninsula he could have cut off their several armies and therefore shorten the war in Italy by several months. Instead, pursuing his desire to be the first to take Rome, he went to the Eternal City allowing the Germans to sneak out unharmed. He was under congressional investigation for his tactics not only for his Rome handling, but even more so for his ill conceived offensive at Monte Cassino during the first battle in January 1943. At that time the Rapido river was swollen from heavy rains and launching and assault under these conditions was against any common sense. At that time the plan was for the US 36th (Texas) Division of the US II Corps to force crossings over the Gari river to enable Combat Command B of the US 1st Armoured Division to pass through and debouch into the Liri Valley. The attack was a complete fiasco. Most of the troops of the 36-th Division did not even cross the river, much less of providing any menace to the well entrenched Germans. The entire division was practically wiped out.

When the frontal attack against the Liri valley entrance failed Clark decided to assault the Cassino complex from the north. He requested that the US 34th Infantry Division cross the Rapido river north of Cassino, approximately where we were going four months later, and attack southwards in the mountains north and behind Monte Cassino. This attack was coordinated with the General Juin's French Expeditionary Corps. The Americans penetrated the northern outskirts of the town but withdrew after strong German couter-attacks. At one point the lead troops of the 34th Division advanced within five hundred meters of Point 593 on Snakehead Ridge, and, on the left, they were on Point 445, little more than four hundred meters from the Abbey. But again, after bitter fighting , they they were forced to withdraw.

A lot has been said and written on the question if the Polish participation in the battle of Monte Cassino did contribute anything to the Polish cause. There is no easy answer. Maybe looking at the overall political arena will shed some light on the subject. There are those who say that at that time Poland's fate was already decided by the allies, our government in London knew that one third of Polish territory will be given to the Soviet Russia and the rest will be within her orbit. It is my understanding, that the allies were panicky about a possibility of separate treaty between Germany and Russia. They did it in 1918, during the WWI, and the allies thought that they could do it again. In the United States as well as in England, there was a wide spread hysteria regarding heroism of the Russian people and their suffering from Germans. This was amplified by the pro-communist press in England ("Daily Worker") and in the United States. At the instigation of the Soviet government, the press on both sides of the Atlantic was writing that Polish soldiers are pro-Nazi, they don't want to fight Germans, and by their departure from Russia at the time of German advances they proved their pro-German sympathies. On May 24, 1944 prime minister Churchill in the House of Commons, had a speech in which he developed his views on resolution of future of Poland. It was an agreement for giving part of Poland to Russia and the remaining part to be under Russian domination. Later he was more blunt. During his talk with Gen. Anders on February 21, he said that England does not need any Polish help because she has enough of troops, and therefore, "...you can take your divisions out, we will manage without them."

Situation in the United States was not much better regarding of Polish interests. Roosevelt and his advisers were all under the spell of communist propaganda. Their political philosophy was deprived of any moral scruples, any regard for the millions of peoples that will be thrown into Soviet Gulag. Their main objective was to be reelected for another term. It is well known from literature written after the war that when Roosevelt came to Jalta conference he did not even try to negotiate future of the Eastern Europe with Stalin. He agreed with his demands right away. This is what Churchill wrote in his memoirs. Churchill wrote that when he raised a question of Poland he was quieted down by Roosevelt. And Stalin knew what he wanted, at that time his armies were victorious pushing Germans to their fatherland. And later on nobody questioned his loyalty to the allies during the Warsaw uprising when Russian troops were on the left bank of the Vistula river while the insurgents were dying in the city. I read somewhere that during the uprising Russian soldiers were bathing in the Vistula river on one side and Germans were swimming on the other and they exchanged jokes in a friendly fashion. At the same time Polish uprising was being crushed by Germans. At one point Polish troops fighting along side of the Russians crossed the Vistula river suffering heavy losses to give some help to the insurgents. Russian command cut off any supplies to them and they had to withdraw.

It was obvious that although England's was participating in that infamous conference all the decisions were made by the two big partners: Russia and the United States. Of course, we soldiers in combat, did not know all the sordid details about machinations of the powers dividing Poland and deciding about lives of millions of people. We knew, however, about Russian advances and had many uneasy thoughts about our future. Later on I read about the political situation that was developing in London, Moscow and Washington.

There are those who say that in accepting the assignment of assaulting the monastery General Anders was motivated primarily by his ambition and perspective of personal gain. I don't believe this. I think, that he was aware of developing of the unfavorable political situation described above. He knew, that to refuse taking the assignment of participation in the battle would be like adding oil to the fire of the Soviet anti-Polish propaganda. At that he probably had illusions that some compromise will be worked out and Polish Army strong, proven its value, will be one of the factors in future negotiations and may change the history. Sure, the price was high. But it was the war, and in war people are killed.

In summary, there will be probably many opinions about the battle of Monte Cassino in general and about Polish participation in it in particular. There will be some rationale on both sides of the argument. I think, that we were in a no-win situation. Polish people because of our geopolitical situation are condemned to suffer more than many others and bear sacrifices to preserve their identity and freedom. Our national life has been a struggle throughout the centuries and unless Polish people are willing to fight for their place in the international community they will go to extinction. "We are condemned to greatness" said J¡zef Piásudski, the first marshal of Poland after regaining independence in 1918, after 123 years of partitioning between Russia, Germany and Austria. Maybe it sounds too pompous, but thinking about the unfortunate situation that Poland is, there is only one of the two alternatives: fight to the end or succumb to nothingness. We lost many battles in our history, and we won many victories. Poles are generally good in winning battles. They are not so sucessful in winning peace. But we will always be fighting for our right to exist, to preserve our identity and our place on the map. Poland came out of the WWII as a looser. Ironically, the only countries that became the most prosperous after the war are Germany and Japan. But, it is not the first time in history of Poland that a war was lost. Somebody said: "Even a great nation can fall, but only dishonorable one can annihilate it." The bottom line is that Poland was raped, the biggest offenders were of course Germany and Russia, but the western countries were conspirators because they did nothing to prevent it. This was a crime that they had to pay for later in Korea and Vietnam with their blood and money. At Monte Cassino, having lost our country to the Germans and Russians, as well as many of us our families, we were trying to make a desperate effort to win some trumps that would help our cause. We were fighting for revenge and honor of our country without much hope to see it again. Tragedy of Polish soldiers is perhaps best summarized in the inscription that can be seen at the St. Martin Chapel at the Monastery :

Patrol - Romuald E. Lipinski

It was somewhere on the Adriatic Coast, north of Macerata. I think that the little town was called Corinaldo. It's not important.

We came to our positions last evening. It was too late to dig in for good so we just made "grave-holes" - small foxholes to provide some protection from pieces of shrapnel. During the night it was raining so everybody woke up wet, in a pool of rain water. I think that our mortar platoon was assigned to the third squadron.

The morning was cloudy, everybody was looking for something hot, like a cup of hot tea or a "Churchill" of wine. And at that time a "wachmistrz" (sergeant in Polish cavalry) came fro the line squad that we were assigned to and said that his men were so tired that he does not have anybody to send on patrol. The patrol had a task to investigate if Germans are still in the town or not. I don't know why he did not go to our Lt. Slysz to ask for the men. Maybe he was afraid that Slysz will refuse.

Three of us volunteered, the wachmistrz was the forth. We got our Thomsons, a few grenades per head the ammo and we started on our way right away. For a while, maybe for half of a kilometer, we were going through an olive orchids. We passed our forward outposts, our Staghounds camouflaged with olive branches, and then we found ourselves in the no man's land. Now we started to move more carefully, knowing that we could be under fire at any time. We could see the houses and the field between us and the town was covered with sheaf of wheat. We were moving from one sheaf to another until we came close to the first houses. We were quite close to the houses when on of the doors opened and a young man came out. The wachmistrz with his hand sign made him to come to us. The man was visibly surprised to see soldiers in strange uniforms. "Dove Tedeschi?" (Where are the Germans?) - asked the wachmistrz. The Italian answered that last night the town was occupied by Germans, but he did not know if they are still there. We here hiding behind the sheaf for about 20 minutes observing the field and the houses. There was no movement anywhere. The wachmistrz motioned to move forward.

The sheaf ended maybe 200 meters before the first houses. Between us and the buildings there was nothing that we hide behind in case of fire. Again a period of hesitation and observation. Then again from one of the houses an young Italian came out. The wachmistrz called him to us and asked if Germans are still in town. The Italian told us that he is not for sure, but during the night he heard some noise and he thought that it was from Germans leaving the town. After some hesitation the wachmistrz decided that if nobody was shooting at us so far there is a good chance that there is no Germans. We quickly ran to the first houses. We looked around - all quiet, silence. There was no Germans.

Suddenly, somebody saw us and few people ran out from from one of the houses. I don't know how the news about our arrival was spread around. All of the sudden we were surrounded by a crowd of happy, laughing people. The main street was full of people. At the beginning they thought that we are English. Then they saw "Poland" on our sleeves, realized that we are Poles. "Polacchi liberatori!" "Viva Polonia!" Women were throwing flowers, men came with wine, young girls were coquetting us with their eyes...

And then something grasped my throat. Two kinds of emotions overwhelmed me. On one hand I was happy that I could bring freedom to these people that were welcoming me at that moment. But on the other hand I was envious and disappointed that this is not a Polish street that I was walking, that I don't bring freedom to my people, my nation, that it is not fulfillment of our dreams, that at that time we were so far to the end of our road to Poland. And that road never ended...

Aftermath - Romuald E. Lipinski

It was a crazy time. Since all of the Polish armed forces were being discharged they all were brought to England for that purpose. England at that time was practically invaded by the Poles. Whenever I came to London I always met somebody that I knew somewhere in the past. There was a street in London, Glocester Street, that was called by the Britishers Polish Corridor, an allusion to the corridor that Hitler demanded through Poland from Germany to Gdansk in 1939. Refusal by the Polish government was his excuse for war.

Polish veterans were all trying to decide what to do with themselves, where to go, how to shape up their future. It was perhaps the most difficult time for my compatriots. Imagine, for five years they were fighting for their country, having only one purpose in mind - to bring back to their nation what the Germans and Russians took away: freedom. The western countries guaranteed integrity of Poland's borders. Polish armed forces were fighting on land, in the sea and in the air. Polish underground was the strongest of all of the occupied countries. Poland suffered appalling losses in lives and German atrocities were unparalleled in any other county. A lot has been written about French resistance. Numerous post war literature revealed that much of this was exaggerated, that many Frenchmen were collaborating with Germans. It came to the open during the trial of German Gestapo official, so called "Butcher of Marseille". French authorities were reluctant to have the trial widely advertised for fear to reveal the extent of collaboration of French population with Germans. In Poland there was practically no collaborators, and if there were any they were liquidated by the Home Army. One of my roommates at the high school course in Mattino was from the detachment of the Home Army whose function was to carry death sentences on traitors and collaborators. It was not a pleasant job. Sometimes, he said, when they raided a collaborator's home, he knew what awaits him. They had to take him out from the house, his family, children crying, read the verdict passed on him by the underground trybunal, in front of witnesses, and carry out the execution. But, there was a war and the man could be responsible for the lives of many others. A lot written has been writtten by some Jews that Poles did not help Jewish underground or that Poles did not do enough to save Jews in Poland. After the war there were several books written on the subject. They point out that it is unfair to compare the situation in Poland with any other occupied country. In Poland the German occupants imposed much harsher penalties than anywhere else. For hiding or helping a Jew in any way there was a mandatory and immediate execution. The helper and the helped were hanged at the same time. Yet, when the chips were down, the war was over, Poland was forsaken, forgotten, Polish troops were not even invited to the Victory Parade in London in which all nations participating in the was were marching for fear that Russians might be irritated. We were given "Travel Documents" a document that allowed us to travel anywhere we wanted, if any country would take us; we were people without a country. Citizens of the world. No obligations, but also no rights, no privileges, no protection. We could be arrested for no apparent reason and nobody would have would speak up for us.

All that affected the morale of the men under arms. When the news broke out that the arms must be surrendered and we are going to be demobilized people were in despair. At that time I was in Beirut, away from the mainstream of the army, but my friends told me a lot about those days. There were various factions that were trying to decide what to do. There were those who did not want to go to England but as an expression of protest march to a neutral country, Turkey was the most popular candidate, and ask for an asylum. Then, there were those who wanted to negotiate with the western powers to move all the Poles in exile to some island where they would establish a Polish colony. Madagascar was considered. They argued that the colony had possibilities to survive and develop, since with us was all elements of normal population: there were men and women, children; there were members of all trades; there were manual workers as well as intelligentsia, in other words there was everybody.

Individually, people were confused, depressed, lost. They looked up to their leaders, their generals who lead them in battles and there was no answer. There were many suicides. My friends told me that those soldiers, hardened in battles, who had brushes with death many a time were crying like children when it came to surrender the weapons. At that time they realized that their dreams of going back to Poland were shattered for ever.