Destination England -
Russia Crosses Eastern Border
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5. Russia Crosses Eastern Border
On 17th September 1939 the Russian army crossed our eastern border,
spreading propaganda that they were coming to help us, to free
us! To free us from what, the freedom we had or the wealth we
possessed, or anything else?!
At the time the communist armies invaded Poland, our group (about 350
men) was walking through the forests trying to avoid villages which
were occupied mostly by Ukrainians, who were not very friendly towards
Poles. It didn't take long before the Ukranians betrayed our
position to the Russians, who then encircled us with tanks and soldiers
with machine guns. We had no option but to surrender. At
this time, we were not far from the town named Tarnopol which was 30
miles from the Russian border and about 100 miles from Romania.
After throwing our rifles into a heap, the Russians told us to form a
double line, standing according to seniority. Myself, 'smelling a
rat', asked one of my soldiers, in this case one I named the 'black
sheep', since he was the closest to me at the time, to cut off my
corporal's stripes which I wore on my epaulets, without the Russian
guards noticing. He managed this very skilfully. Now I
became a private again - there would be two more times in my
military career that I would be starting again as a private. After
this I rejoined the rest of my platoon.
The Russians gave us quite a long 'propaganda sermon' and then ordered
all privates to step three steps forward. After telling us how
good the communist regime was which was freeing us from the tyranny of
corporals and generals, (according to them the biggest enemies of
mankind), they let us go home. I don't exactly know what happened
to the remainder of our group, but we found out a few years later that
many of them were among the 10,000 Polish officers murdered at
Katyn. (Katyn Massacre)
After saying farewell to the remaining members of our group, we marched
away. I again took command thanking the 'black sheep' for
saving me from joining the Russian paradise so early on. At this
time I was in command of 26 Warsowians. The question was what to
do now, where to go?. The road to Romania had been cut off by
Soviet troops. Evacuees were moving in all directions and there
were rumors about Polish troops still fighting near Chelmn. As
we were in the direction of Warsaw we decided to go there. On the
way we were joined by a Major who was also a Judge. He was a
reservist, aged 60, who had joined the administration side of the
forces and he had become separated from his unit during an air raid and
eventually became lost. His home town was Chelmn, the place where
we were heading, so he travelled under our protection.
We had to fight our way through, because the local militia (local
communists) and unfriendly local population (Ukrainians) were trying to
disarm us of the weapons we had managed to capture during our
travels. We found many mutilated bodies of civilians, soldiers
and police who were especially hated here. The colour of our
uniforms from the distance didn't look much different, especially for
those to whom airmen or policemen were considered to be the same, hence
our difficulties and unnecessary fighting. We were glad to
get away from these hostile places, but nearing Chelmn we were
encountering another kind of problem which was the Front Line between
East and West where the 'friendly' Soviet forces met the 'friendly'
Nazis forces, disarming each other as soon as they made contact.
It was a joy to see German tanks surrounded by Bolsheviks and tank
occupants disarmed, without belts and revolvers, standing by.
We had previously disposed of our rifles and had removed our belts to
prevent being disarmed again and taken as prisoners of war.
Now, looking more like policemen than airmen, we went through Russian
and German Front Lines reaching the town of Chelmn which was the home
of our Judge. He, being grateful for us bringing him home to his
family, invited the whole platoon (27 men including myself) to spend
the night in his villa. Of course we slept on the floor as he
didn't have that many beds!
The next morning, replenished with food and a little money, we went on
the next part of our journey. This time our target was Warsaw,125
miles away, which we reached one week later on 20th October 1939.
When we left Okecie aerodrome in August of the same year, I was in
charge of 26 men. Two months later, after all the upheaval that
happened in my country, I brought 25 men back to Warsaw (one of them
fell in love on the way!). After a short farewell we all split up
and went in different directions, each of us trying to find away, among
the rubble, to our homes, if indeed they still existed.
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© Nick Bailey & Krys Bailey (nee Stendera) & Jozef Stendera
2013-2020