Hope Worth Dying For

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Hope worth dying forMemoirs of apartisan fighter

Lucas J. Talley1


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For Dana, a person who taught me that belief in other people is as important,

if not more, as having other people believe in you.

In memoriam Micah Paul Talley, my brother, someone who understood

fighting against all odds and what it meant to refuse to give up, someone

who would have been written about in this book had he been born in a

different time.

Lucas J. Talley2


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Prologue

The German occupation of Poland during the Second World War is a

matter of fact. Although mention is made of certain political and military

leaders within the historical context, and the author attempts to accurately

portray the historical events that took place, it must be stressed that this is a

work of fiction. However, the author challenges you to fact check, if for no

other reason than to make the reader aware of the amazing feats and bravery

of the people of the times told in this story.

Wanda and Mordechai, as well as the Hedgehog, Marie-Madeleine

Fourcade, are portrayed through the fiction of this book as an effort to paytribute to them, and to capture a piece of their life as I imagine it was in

reality. There is no reference to a living person herein. Any fact that has

been altered was only for the purpose of the storys flow, and does not move

away from the principle truth of the matter.

Lucas J. Talley3


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Entry Date August 11th, 1942

I dont know if I will make it to the end of the war, if I will see the

allied forces invade like the reports on the BBC. However, I dream that I

will see the sunrise on a Poland where the enemy has felt death at the hands

of the resistance. That something will reflect the rage of my heart. Should I

feel a more human compassion toward the lives of fellow human beings?

In university, I was taught to regard these thoughts, to consider the

state of man as the progression of an entire organism moving toward

enlightenment. I also considered the other authors, the ones who recorded

wars as they happened, facts recorded as statistics, atrocity and tragedy

without emotion communicated through numbers. So, I wasnt ignorant to

the realities that there are no utopias, that most were ideals to be considered,

and the rest statistics to keep you grounded lest you drift off into falsity.

Still, nothing could prepare me for being the witness of death. I staredfrom the woods as German soldiers stripped Polish women in the snow, laid

them side by side, and massacred them. Do you have another name for it?

As the report of the automatic fire pounded an echo into my memory that

will never remove itself, they did not even scream, just silent acceptance of

death, sobs of incoherent murmuring. Then clakclakclak the end, the

crunch of the snow under the boots of the soldiers as they walked away

I was only there to witness this, because several others and I were

coming in from the woods, from hunting, food was scarce since the war, and

we had the luxury to run like the scampering rabbits we had just shot as the

troops stormed our town.

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What was I to do with the single action .22 rifle? Every desire to fight

and strike back was thrown into an epic battle against the instinct to survive

and hide. I am a fighter, a person of fierce pride. My mother used to warn

me that I would lose more than I would gain if I clung to this trait as a man.

Thank god, or fate, or what ever I can attribute the natural course of

her death to, before this side of the war manifested itself. That she did not

witness or face the fate of these other women. I would have died that day if

she had, I would have died lashing out in vengeance with the pathetic rifle,

never penetrating the German helmet, hoping for a fleshy eye, but meeting

death as I revealed my self from the woods only to be gunned down.

It has been two years, eleven months, since then and I have

sabotaged, killed, and infiltrated German soldiers camps, depots, supply

lines, and communications. I have cut through the neck of an unarmed

German soldier, hearing the cartilage sound off like the gristle of a pig being

torn on the dinner plate, and I felt no shame, in fact, I felt exhilaration and

triumph.It is not until I get back and write in this diary in the candle light, that

my conscience weighs what I have done, questioning if I am drifting away

from humanness and acting more like an animal, a savage. I am good at

rationalizing this, for all it takes to revive my belief in mission and quail my

thoughts of degrading consciencefor the acts I commit, is to ask myself

why did those women not scream? Why did they not beg for their lives?

I will tell you why. Because they new the end was upon them,

German soldiers were committing acts like this all over with not a whim of

remorse or conscience. In the hands of captors, in those uniforms, there was

no hope, no compassion to beg for, just the cold methodical eyes of less-

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than-humans carrying out a task. Therefore, I have become the vicarious by-

product of this ruthlessness. I will kill every soldier I can while carrying on

the mission of the resistance. My candle is burning low, a luxury in this hole

dug into the earth. Me, six men, two Polish women who are but girls with

dreams of liberation, and a young Jewess with a heart so fierce and a desire

to live so strong that she has won the undying loyalty of us all.

On the day she escaped the German train running through the woods,

she almost trampled me and in shock tried to stab me. Some piece of

sharpened iron she had salvaged from the cattle-car. She was rail thin and

could not have weighed more than thirty-five kilograms, I caught her in my

arms and covered her mouth, she struggled fiercely. Be silent lest you get

us all killed. I said to her in German, which she understood. Her wild and

panicked eyes darted back and forth, taking in the clothing of the rag tag, but

armed group of men lying low to the ground with me.

We had been hoping the train was a supply train, but it was just more

of the condemned riding to their death. Except for her, she would not acceptdeath. She calmed quickly. I could tell from her dark eyes that there was vast

intelligence behind them.

Over the months, she more than proved that. I have spent most of my

journalizing about the details of the missions, in case I should fall and

someone else had to carry on. But now, I have a different story to tell. A

story about people. The hunt for us has gotten intense, our numbers stay the

same only because we die and induct more ready to fight back. In the face of

death, I have fallen in love, in the face of love, I have brought numerous

deaths to anything that challenges the freedom to survive and feel emotion. I

have fallen in love with a fighter, a soldier, a Jewgirl.

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September first, 1939, the Germans Stormed Warsaw. The Nazis had

used German convicts dressed in Polish uniforms to stage an act to spurn the

invasion. Twelve German prisoners dressed as Poles, made to look like an

advancing troop into the German-Polish border, were shot dead and

conveniently arranged to appear as if death was met in combat with German

troops. Later that day, the thirteenth convict was inserted nearby the town of

Gleiwitz. He wore Polish civilian clothes, accompanied by similarly

disguised SS (Schutzstaffel), security men, they took over the local radio

station and broadcast inflammatory statements announcing Poland was

attacking Germany, and requesting Poles to join up. Then the German

officers staged a fight with the supposed station personnel over the air,

ending with the convict in Polish clothing dead. The impersonated Polish

instigator would never reveal the ruse.

My life changed that day. My name is Milo Kozlowski, everyone whoever knew me, other than relatives, called me Koz. I grew up in Kutno,

which is not so far from Warsaw. My family on my fathers side was in

agriculture, not as farmers but as engineers of industrial equipment,

combines and such. My mothers side, as she would like to say, was from

Warsaw aristocracy, involved in arts and history, teaching at University,

some remote tie to royalty I never had the patience to unravel. None of my

family had any inclination at military life, nothing more than the call of

necessity to protect the Hinterland.

Be that as it may, all the men had lent a hand in the effort to fight off

the Germans should they invade. I was too young to really digest the

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significance of all this because I didnt remember the Great War, didnt

understand impending doom. I had left Kutno at sixteen to live in Warsaw

with my mothers sister and her husband. I was to attend University and go

into the arts. I had a fanaticism for medicine though, it quickly manifested

into my pursuit. By twenty, everyone agreed I would be the first Doctor

from our family.

I was popular with the girls. Im five eleven and Belgian genes made

me what the ladies called dark and handsome. I was athletic and rowed in

college, I competed and carried the title of relentless contender. But, what

did I know of war? My green eyes, carried the intellect of the philosopher,

how foolish youth is to think he can contemplate deeply anything before he

has witnessed death and carnage. I was nothing more than a schoolboy. I

was twenty-two when the Germans came, I quickly retreated under orders of

my father to a village not far from Kock east of Warsaw. By mid-September

170,000 Poles were captured by the Fourth and Eighth Armies. My father

died in the bombing of a factory in Kutno, one that had been changed fromits farming equipment production to a makeshift war plant.

I learned of this while sitting by the fire cooking stew with a distant

cousin of mine, the smell of the rabbit and spices that were becoming ever

rarer stung my eyes. Even though I was educated, cultured, as my mother

would say. I had learned to hunt in Kutno as a kid with my father. It was

because of those skills that we had meat.

I was grateful for the bread Anna managed to produce. The Germans

had gone house to house and smashed the querns the women had used for

generations, passing them one to the next, to grind the wheat for the

delicious Polish bread. The reason the Nazis did this? Every grain of wheat

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had to be handed over to the Germans, only they could give back an amount

sufficient enough to live on until the next harvest, which of course never was

enough, but again I get ahead of myself, sorry, it is difficult to convey what

our life has been reduced to and not strain these details.

The cottage was one of those pieces you see in the paintings hung on

the walls of libraries. Across the road was Annas land, Anna Kizmanski,

cultivated by her neighbors for her father, but he was dead now as well.

This did not stop the new Nazi governor from sending his deputies out to

take control and enforce the new laws immediately. Because of the cabins

southern location it fell into an area called the General Gouvernement, a

French name related somehow to the German occupation of the same area

from the first war, however it slips my mind why. The triangle between

Warsaw, Krakow, and Lwow, made up the territory.

They gave every farmer a quota, they posted notices in every

community dictating that farmers were to remain at their fields, farm

families keep only enough to sustain life. Everything else must be deliveredto their representatives for shipment to Germany. It stated that any farmer or

housewife, who connived to avoid that would be shot. They quickly made

examples out of people for emphasis. There was a district commander

responsible for collecting the maximum amount of food possible from his

district.

The benefit of Annas location was that she bordered the forest of

Szczek, the trees running almost to her back door, and the road that ran

between her home and her land was rural and out of the way of the normal

route of travel. The district officer often delegated the oversight of Annas

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land to lesser men, unenthusiastic in agrarian issues, but never with out

desire to find fault and murder Poles. Still, the cabin was relatively safe.

As we prepared to eat, someone had knocked hap-hazard on the door,

scaring the life out of us. Everyone had first hand knowledge of what the

Germans were doing to towns, people, and women.

I jumped to my feet and peered out of a crack in the wood beams to

the side of the window. It was Gustav, my uncle; he should not have been

there. I quickly unbolted the door and let him in. He grabbed his hat in his

hands and tears welled in his eyes. His face was hallow, dark circles gave

him the characteristic of a haggard raccoon. This was my fathers brother, I

knew, before he even told me to sit down.

Your father is dead Milo, he was in a factory in Kutno when the

Blitzkrieg started. I have never seen so many planes, and then the tanks,

Panzers everywhere. It did not stop until the city was rubble, the factories

burning in flames.

My uncle only came to inform me. He had to go back to fight, he toldme I was best here until they got word of a better plan. He did not want me

to die yet, said I had too much brain to waste. He also said he didnt think

there would be a pointthere were talks of surrender in the works. Why die

needlessly?

My cousin Anna looked at me with sadness in her eyes, but I was in

shock or something close to it. I didnt seem to feel anything as the thoughts

of an unsure future ran through my head. What could this mean for Poland?

As stupid as it seemed at the moment, I wondered if I would still work in the

hospital in Warsaw. Somehow, the fact that I didnt know what tomorrow

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would bring made the unbearable task of digesting my fathers death beyond

my reach.

It would go on like that. From that day forward, the Germans

punished the attempt of the Polish people to remain unoccupied, death and

destruction came day and night. My mother died in her sleep, possibly of a

broken heart, but the rest of us knew she was battling life long pulmonary

issues related to tuberculosis. I am not grateful for death, but I am spared the

pain that goes with knowing it was at the hands of Germans.

But, before I drift in my thoughts, let me go back to the cabin and my

cousin Anna. Once my father had died, things quickly began to go badly for

Poland. The speed in which the Germans were taking territory was

devastating to say the least and then the Russians came from the east, Wilno,

Grodno, Lwow, but even before this I knew in September, the 28 th to be

exact, that with the fall or Warsaw, Polands days were numbered. The goal

was to hold out long enough for the allied French and British to come to our

aid. How strange that seems now after three years of resistance, but in thebeginning, it seemed a valid hope. Refugees fled the cities and the Germans

forced them back into Warsaw to starve them into capitulation.

I had the luxury of already having left, and hence my time in the cabin

with Anna seemed somewhat removed from the alarming reports that we

heard over the radio in the first days. Then the radio broadcasts quickly

became saturated with the words of occupiers, thats how we knew each city

had fallen. The Luftwaffe would fly overhead like schools of sharks through

the water of the sky, and there we were, on the ocean floor littered with

carcasses, left after their onslaught.

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The refugees, they would be seen walking with belongings on

shoulders down never ending country roads, to destinations unknown. But,

some would stop and Anna never refused them. I did not know Anna prior to

my fathers prompting, but I assume now my father knew more than he ever

let on about politics and country. In retrospect, his traveling through out the

countryside before the invasion, during the years when rumors of Hitlers

intentions became known, were by design.

My cousin was by all appearance, a shy young woman of twenty-nine,

she looked no more than nineteen, unmarried and incredibly well read. For

living in the country, she had a library that could intimidate any man in his

studies, the walls were lined with books in languages I knew no country-

living Pole to have ever spoken. She stood barely five foot with the blond

hair of Scandinavians, unlike my own. She had the strange ability, no matter

how fast she was moving, to seem to tip-toe soundlessly across the floor. It

reminded me of a determined mouse ever vigilant of the cats presence.

When I first arrived she did not talk to me very much, instead shehoused and looked after me in my needs and quickly retreated into her

private little world that my naivet shielded me from penetrating. It got

lonely, so when she began to take refugees into the cabin for dinner and

oddly enough, conversation, it was a welcome interruption to the monotony

of the days. This is when I began to realize Anna conversed for purpose, her

dialog always contained questions that seemed pregnant with intent. She was

always asking where the last sighting of German troops was. Then she

would clarify that she didnt want to know what the radio reports were

saying but what they had seen along the way, tanks, supplies, and the like.

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At first, it just seemed like a woman concerned with remaining safe

within her little hamlet, but she was slowly taking on the form of an enigma.

Then one night, as she was feeding two men who had stopped for the rest,

unbeknownst to her of my presence in the pantry, I saw her in the kitchen

quickly writing notes in a little book. She put this little book back into her

shift, I had no chance of retrieving it later with out her knowing. Now I

knew, something was going on that was out of the ordinary.

I began to pay more attention to the exact details of my cousins days,

I realized her quietness masked a very calculating and observant creature.

She would ask me what concerned me, what was causing me consternation. I

would quickly deny anything was on my mind. But she knew, she knew I

had picked up on something, however, even I did not know what that was.

I noticed a refugee, a bear of a man, who returned every so many

days. After my father was dead, I didnt exactly know what my purpose was,

I was tired of hunting and reading. My anatomy book was thoroughly oiled

from my fingers rifling through its pages. I was returning with two haresfor dinner when I saw the man I just spoke of move quickly into the house

behind Anna. At first, I thought my cousin had a lover, but why hide it like

this? I was not the type to pass judgment on someones personal affairs,

Anna knew this. Curiosity had the better of me, I crept to the window of the

cabin, I could here hushed voices. I distinctly heard Anna say they must

hurry before her cousin returned.

The man, he looked like he had not bathed in weeks, asked why I did

not fight. She told him I knew nothing of fighting and her duty was to keep

me alive, at the request of her dead uncles wishes. I did not have time to be

lost in the confusion of this, for what they did next intrigued me too much, I

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heard the ruffling of papers, and as I peaked over the sill, I saw a map with

red lines and black lines, and then heard quick discussion of German troop

movements. I heard Anna refer to Hedgehog and operation midnight

and it became clear in the same instant, that the bear spun on his feet, leapt

toward the window simultaneously drawing a pistol from his coat and saw

me, what was going on. With a look of determination staring at me down the

sight of the weapon, recognition set in. He looked to Anna and told her she

would have no choice but to explain, let the boy become a man he said.

That was the day I found my purpose again. The man whos name was

Alex, told Anna to stay posted at the window. He asked me if I cared about a

free Poland, if I would fight for my home. I thought this was a silly question

and told him that of course I would. I had often thought those same thoughts

quietly laying in the darkness at night. I recount this to the best of my

recollection forgive me for not being a storyteller

What do you do young man? What is your profession? Alex

remained in constant motion as he spoke. I had gotten the impression he feltlike a caged animal indoors.

I was studying to be a doctor at University in Warsaw. That all came

to an end in September of course. I was trying to analyze him, trying to

gage his wits, he seemed highly intelligent, and yet he was raw, unpolished.

I was in the special forces before our country fell to the Germans.

Most of the officers were shot by the enemy before they could escape. Some

of our top men made it to France and are attempting to set up a government

in exile.

The rest of us are here in the forests doing what we can. I will die here

if that is what it takes but I will not surrender.

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His eyes penetrated me with their intensity. I believed every word of

what he said. It gave me a moment of hope, I gained some thought of a

future hearing him speak.

He looked at my cousin. We depend on the people to help us fight

this battle from the forests. Anna is instrumental to our mission. Without

her, none of us would be able to communicate. There are many like her,

serving their home any way they can.

You would make a good medic no? How far along in your studies

were you?

I was ahead of everyone I knew, but I had no field experience. I had

worked on research in the lab and written several papers on the use of

antiseptics in trauma-care to reduce the chance of infection.

I have no hands on experience but I did very well on all my exams. I

did research on infection and prevention, but I will fightI will help the

resistance. The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them.

He looked at me silently for a moment. I believe you would boy.This is no business for the timid though, no luxury, nothing but an uneven

fight against an insatiable beast. But every man who can fight should if you

ask me.

Anna looked at him with concern in her eyes. Something inside them

told a story I didnt seem to understand. Let me explain all to him tonight

Alex. This is too much to digest and we have work to do before you go.

Cousin, I am glad I do not have to hide this from you any longer but

now is not the time. Tonight I will tell you everything. Please give us an

hour.

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Alex interjected. No, Anna let him stay and watch. He is no fool

perhaps he will learn more through observing than through talking.

My cousin did not argue but instead leaned beneath the kitchen

counter carefully removed a screw and then lifted the floorboard. From

beneath the floor, she removed a radio, set it in the center of the table and

Alex laid the map out before her.

He went to the window and posted himself there. Next, Anna began

transmitting. Hedgehog, this is Fox Den, I repeat this is Fox Den

Anna was speaking in fluent French, which until that moment I did

not realize she could do.

Hedgehog come in I repeat this is Fox Den after a few minutes

of this the radio chattered back. A female voice in perfect accent came back

over.

Fox Den, this is HedgehogTransmit your communication.

Anna was looking at the map and began a rapid-fire string of

gibberish that didnt seem to make any sense. I followed her eyes and herfingers as she transmitted the message. I quickly deduced that it was some

form of code. She was giving coordinates of German troops, and other

information, the number of tanks in certain areas and supply routes that had

been observed.

Then she stopped and the voice on the other end began to send the

same coded information back, Annas fingers moved blindingly fast to write

it all down. Within three minutes the entire transmission was over, she began

breaking the radio down and returning it to its storage space.

After this, Alex and Anna quickly began to decipher the messages and

record things on separate pieces of paper. They drew additional lines on the

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map. I went to the window and took over the post until twenty minutes later

they had finished. Alex came to me and patted me on the shoulder.

No one is more important than your cousin to us. If you are only half

of what she is than we welcome you gladly. You are no idiot boy. You have

plenty of talking to do. With that, he went out the door. Anna locked it

behind him stared at me for a moment.

I am sorry about your father cousin. I promised your safe keeping but

I will not deny you the privilege of fighting in a cause I my self am willing

to die for.

I cannot tell you what turns a man into a fighter, into a soldier. I can

tell you what I have witnessed. What I have seen ordinary men do in

extraordinary circumstances. I know I was a man not afraid of a fight, but I

was not a fighter, not before the war. Im not referring to training, I had a lotof that in the months that followed that first revelation in the cabin with Alex

and Anna, my birth into the wars reality and my departure from a young

mans crumbling world, one where I believed I was powerless.

What I am referring to is the consciousness of mind when under

constant threat, the fluidness of thought that develops when constant

adrenaline and death lurk at every corner.

This is where a man becomes a soldier or succumbs to pressure. A

resistance fighter has not the luxury of retreating to the safety of numbers

and superior arms when under fire. He thinks critically or he dies. He flees

quickly or he is captured, tortured, and killed.

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There was constant activity between the Vistula River and Bug River.

The Germans knew that the resistance used these lands between Warsaw and

Lwow, as routes for both movement and smuggling. They patrolled heavily

and began to set mines and explosives, booby trapping in the areas that were

the greatest potential threats to their troops. The forests and sporadic farms

created an impossible area to cover, the resistance moved like shadows

under the Germans.

Alex, I, and Markov, another soldier who was extremely adept at

having the steely nerve to impersonate German officers when entering the

city, had been traveling a ridgeline where the Vistula River and the Sans

River meet. Markov was twenty-six, with a scar that ran from his cheek to

his ear, which was missing the top half, the result of the German invasion

and an encounter in Warsaw.

I recount what I am about to tell you of, because I think it is important

for you to understand the immediacy of situation and what they call a man

to do, when you dont realize your incapable because necessity requires yoube capable.

Markov was no more than ten paces in front of me focused as he

studied an expanse of pasture just beyond the ridge of trees we walked. I felt

nothing when the sound went from my ears, a tree stood between Markov

and me only because I had not moved out of its way in my path yet. I was on

my knees when my conscience screamed to me what had happened, even

before the focus of my eyes had gathered any information. Time slows, the

concussion hit me like a blast of an enormous drum, the ground came up

from beneath me, and the realization that sound penetrated my skull again

was realized only by Markovs scream. In the instant you realize what

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happens, it is like walking in the dark and running into a wall. The moment

it happens you dont know what you have run into, but in the same instant

you also know what has happened because you are conscience that you are

walking in the dark.

Well when you are in war, you do not know what is the cause, so

much you are aware of what you are experiencing. Markovs scream took

that instant of slowed time and hurled it into an active field of play. I jumped

up from the position I had found myself in and ran to where Markov lay.

Smoke was still hazing the immediate area. The moment I saw

Markovs eyes the look of recognition, not so much of terror, stared back at

me. I dropped beside him. His right leg was missing from the mid-thigh, the

femoral artery was releasing its contents with each adrenaline fueled beat of

Markovs heart. He must have seen the shock of the situation on my face. He

grabbed my lapel and growled Fix it Koz I noticed Alex at my shoulder,

he knelt beside me.

Next was just my instinct, my medical knowledge taking over myacts. I tried to put pressure on the artery but the flesh was shredded, porous

like cheesecloth, blood flowed over my hand like a spring. I realized it could

only be stopped by reaching into the flesh and pinching the artery closed,

Marcov screamed as I reached into the trauma that was his thigh, I pushed

past the damage until there was an actual arterial length not destroyed

beyond my purpose. I pinched it between my fingers and the bleeding

stopped.

Markov leaned up on his elbows. He stared into my eyes, I told you,

you are a soldier that is when I noticed the blood running from his

mouth. His eyes glassed over. I saw the distance come, a second later I saw

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his determination fade into blackness. He fell back. I ripped his shirt open,

but I had already known what I would see. The shrapnel had torn through

him, his ribcage on the left side was littered with holes.

Alex quickly got up, it had only been thirty or forty seconds since the

explosion. We must move quickly, they will come in response to the noise

like a shark to the smell of blood. Alex began to look around rapidly until

to my astonishment he found Markovs leg in the limb of a tree. He retrieved

it. I realized now what he was doing and I quickly dragged Markovs body a

few feet away from where he lay, I began to turn the pine needles and dirt to

mask the pool of blood the best I could. I turned to Markov tied off his

dripping limb and slung him over my shoulder.

This may seem futile to you reading this but we could not allow the

Germans any shred of information as to what happened, perhaps an animal

triggered the mine, let them infer what they will. We retreated into the forest

and continued at a brisk pace for four and a half hours. Then we buried

Markov and continued. Alex turned to me and said, Good thinkingcomrade. There was nothing you could do, but you did not lose your head.

So, again I dont know what makes a man a soldier, where that

transition happens. But, somewhere along the way it did.

The first time I traveled back into Warsaw on business for the

resistance, Anna pretended to be my wife as cover. Though she was older

than I, it was an easy enough ruse. The difficulty laid in the travel it self.

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Since the Germans had begun their occupation, they had given the

Gestapo strict orders to enforce. The areas that bordered Germany had rules

against the movement of Poles that were devastating to both the natural daily

life of the people as well as the efforts of the resistance. A Pole could be shot

for riding a train, or killed in a Public square if caught moving without a

pass. A Pole could not ride a bicycle without a license issued by the Nazis

indicating the necessary streets to travel to and from work. When a German

approached, a Pole had to step off into the gutter to make way for the pig,

lest he be shot for such inconveniencing of the Nazi scum. When on

business in the city, it was preparation of the passes that consumed much

time through forgeries.

Our cover as farmers was not an issue because Anna had her

legitimate quota she had to deliver to the Germans. My papers were not so

legitimate but they had not failed me yet. We traveled with an old farmer,

Mikal Kloss, who had the bravery of a man who knew he had not much time

left on earth, and the silent defiance of a man prepared to make his laststand.

In the General Gouvernement, these restrictions didnt apply because

it was the duty of these enslaved agrarian Poles to produce the food. In order

for that to be possible, limited travel was necessary. One was still for all

intents and purposes, a prisoner of his land.

I had not seen the city since the invasion. The heat was oppressive in

June, it was even worse than in the country where we spent so much time. I

was awe-struck by the shells of buildings that remained where once densely

inhabited blocks stood. Oddly, the iron that pointed into the sky, with the

crumbling bricks falling away from them, reminded me of huge dying

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pachyderms, the flesh melted away from bone, picked by vultures and

scavengers.

They had bombed the Warsaw Gas Works during one of the

Luftwaffe attacks, all the vital urban services were nothing more than rubble.

I had heard about these intern camps the SS had begun to establish. It was

said that after the day of surrender, Polish Jews were rounded up and were

seen gathered nervously at the railroad stations, Hitlers SS, the elite Nazi

security corps, was under order to deport or shoot Jews and any other Poles

judged to be intellectually dissident or otherwise undesirable. They had a

journeymen group of killers calledEinsatzgruppen to carry this out.

It was obvious after entering the city that the Nazis had no restraint,

and all that was said was true. We did not know it yet, but soon, surrounding

Annas forests would be the concentration camp of Majdanek and Sobibor.

The Germans would install over a hundred installations in occupied

territories. Many of these were local detention camps and Gestapo prisons,

the rest were slave labor camps where the Jews were worked relentlesslyuntil death. Then would come the death camps themselves, Auschwitz,

Belzec, Chelmno, and Treblinka. Here the large-scale extermination began

in 1942.

But, when we entered the city that day, I saw the first of the Ghettos, I

saw the first of the Jewish people herded like cattle behind the fences and

into the designated areas. All the windows of the buildings had wire over

them. Fences were installed everywhere. Eyes stared out at me as we passed

along the streets. I saw the forlorn look of a young girl, her hands hung

loosely from her make shift cage, like the paws of a kitten that has been

locked into a carrier, then set down somewhere and forgotten about.

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When I slowed and looked too long, Anna pulled my arm quickly,

Cousin you mustnt look too hard lest you attract the attention of some SS.

We will be at our destination in only a few short blocks.

I diverted my attention and carried on as Anna told me. I knew better,

I was no longer novice at what we were doing, but still, it was gripping to

see. We arrived not long after, at an apartment building that was only a

block away from the Ghetto on the far side of where we had just been. We

entered the building, Anna abruptly turned around and looked back out from

the corner of the hall as to be unseen. I knew she was looking for any officer

that might have been to curious about our travels.

Quickly, come before any one else enters the hall.

We went up three floors and to the end of the corridor. I could hear

the noise of inhabitants, but we did not encounter anyone. At the end of the

run, Anna quickly rapt out a series of knocks on a door. A female voice

came back requesting Annas name. She answered in her underground name,

I had my own by this point, everyone did, no one possessed a birth name inthe underground. However, this person we were seeing, my cousin said she

knew since being a child. A heavy grinding sound was made, the door

opened a crack.

Two blue eyes looked out, recognition at the sight of Anna, then

they darted from side to side. I heard the chain slide next, the door opened

the rest of the way.

Hurry, inside. We quickly followed her instruction. She closed the

door behind us and slid a steel bar into two reinforced slots. I knew that was

the noise that I had heard. The girl was thin and attractive, she had two long

blond braids that hung from her head beneath a scarlet kerchief. Her face

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was that of a doll, she looked no older than sixteen, but as with my cousin I

knew looks could be deceiving.

Anna reached out quickly and hugged the girl, patting her on the back.

Comrade, I am glad to see you It is getting difficult to travel on the roads

without SS stopping everything to ask questions. This is Koz, my cousin,

underground he is silver fox.

The girl eyed me. A bead of sweat dripped from her brow, she did not

attempt to wipe it, and yet still, was feminine and beautiful.

The heat is unbearable. My name is Niuta but our comrades call me

Wanda. Please sit.

She ushered us to a table in the middle of the room. A radio was in the

center. As we sat, I listened to the voice that was coming across the

frequency. De Gaulle was pleading to his Frenchmen.

Viol pourquoi je convie tous les Francais. Ou quils se trouvent,

sunir moi dans laction sans le sacrifice et dans lesprance

Niuta turned the radio down. General De Gaulle has a heart after myown but the traitor Ptain, has denied his countrymen the honor of fighting.

The French had been invaded only days before and while the diehard

General continued to ask his country men to fight, the 84 year old Vice

Premier was working against those efforts, ceding to the Germans.

Anna took off her shoe and separated the seam by use of a pen, pulled

out a piece of paper from the spot. She handed to Niuta.

There are men here who need arms. They are waiting for the chance

to act but have nothing after the Germans came through.

Niuta looked at it and quickly said. Give me a few weeks, I will have

the Belarusians bury them in the woods.

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Thank you. What about my men? Do we have what we need waiting

for us?

It was a beautiful thing to see this girl smile. Of course Anna. What

good what I be if I could not supply the method of death to these fascist

pigs?

They must be careful though in retrieving them. They are not far from

the Soviet-German demarcation line. Our comrade-in-arms took 50 Moisin

7.62mm Russianrifles in a supply raid. Twenty are buried at this location.

She pulled out a piece of paper and wrote from right to left in Hebrew,

Anna looked at it nodded and inserted it back into her shoe. She then took a

small tube of glue from her purse and sealed the seam.

Thank you Niutayou are a worker of miracles.

And you Anna, we are not so different. What would one be without

the assistance of the other? Hedgehog pleads to me to leave to Palestine,

says she can get me out in operation Noahs Ark.

You should go Niuta, who can not understand? It is ten times worsefor the Jew than even the Pole.

No Anna, I am a Jewmy place is among the most active fighters

against fascism, in the struggle for the honor of my people, for an

independent Poland, and for the freedom of humanity.

Anna grabbed her hands in her own across the table and squeezed

them. May we pray every comrade has the courage you do.

Here in Poland it is different. I must fight until we are free, Poland is

my home. Hedgehog tells me that when the troops invaded they did not

ravage the land like here.

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Said the German pigs were telling every one, Wir sind keine

Barbaren.What nerve to claim they are not barbarians, they smile and help

old ladies across the street, while they line our old women up and shoot

them, let them fall down to rot on top of each other.

That is what the coward Ptain got for his denial of the French to fight

with honor, capitulating to the German scum. In Poland, we are

Untermenschen, subhuman, according to the pig Hitler, so instead they rape

pillage, and murder here. No, I cannot leave.

You read the fhrers signs. Gebt mir funf jahre und ihr werdet

Deutschland nicht wieder erkennen. Give him five years and you will not

recognize Germany again. I intend to give him no such luxury in Poland.

Anna shook her head in agreement. Neither do I. My cousin has been

in the forest now, with Alex and the others. Tell her cousin what you have

told me.

I related what I had seen. Along the borders there are more and more

fighters, some from Belgium some from Belorussia, but they say the samething. The Germans are ruthless animals killing women and children in

villages, the resistance grows stronger with each incident.

We are becoming more organized. We are sharing our

communications and sabotaging the supply lines at an increasing rate. I

hope, for the strength of the villagers to remain. They assist, and then the

Germans slaughter them like cattle, by the hundreds, three hundred unarmed

villagers not far from Krakow only days ago.

As I was speaking, we heard the siren of an SS car. Everyone jumped

up from the table. Niuta grabbed a pistol from under her clothing and ran to

the window. I stood behind her and had no trouble seeing over her head, she

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seemed so tiny. Fearless, but tiny. The vehicle came down the block and

stopped nearly in front of the building. Four jackboots stepped out with

automatic machine pistols; they made haste in entering the building across

the street. Moments later, we heard the report of the automatic rifles. We

stayed in the window, my adrenaline caused my blood to pulse in my ears.

From a second story window a body was thrown to the street, the crumpled

corpse of a man with a star attached to his clothing lay for all to see. Then,

the scream of a woman. As quickly as they had entered, they exited with the

woman in tow, a soldier slapped her brutally, she fell to her knees, and then

he kicked her.

Up you polish whore. We shall see how you like your Jews in a

labor camp. They beat her into the back of the vehicle. All four left, the

body of the man of no concern.

Niuta moved away from the window. Quickly you must leave before

they come back. I must go to the other side of the city as well. Anna, let god

be with you in this fight. Koz, you too, you are the fire in our souls, I will doeverything to help your men.

We cleared the area. Anna and I met with the farmer who was giving

us ride, at the outskirts of Warsaw. We fulfilled delivering the produce. On

our permits, he was my father and Anna his daughter in law. We were

stopped for a checking of our papers along the way but passed muster.

Niuta would come to be known as Die klein Wanda mit die Zopfen.

Little Wanda with the braids amongst the Germans. I am proud to know her

for she is legend among both her people and the resistance. She has

assassinated several German officers at the time I write this and has a price

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of 150,000 zlotys on her head. Long live the heart of such fighters. Niuta

Teitelbaums underground effort is the encouragement all of us live on.

But, I must rest now, my candle flickers and the war moves on even

as I write this down. The others are sleep except for Gans, he sits vigilantly

at the door to our subterranean cover, every once in a while, he looks over to

see if I am still writing. He never asks what it is I jot down, just

acknowledges our situation with a silent nod of his young head, and returns

his eyes to the darkness that lurks outside.

Entry August 16th, 1942

I am well enough. It has been several days since I made my last entry.

The tragedy of war has struck again and it pains my heart to know how

quickly life can be snuffed. We lost another fighter while attempting to place

explosives on a bridge across the Narew River used for the Panzer tankdivisions.

We were under heavy fire and could not retrieve our comrades body,

but there was no doubting his death. We had to retreat for fifty kilometers

before we could be sure we had lost the German troops. Some times, in the

midst of the pulsing vibrations of enemy fire, you will run and silence will

suddenly envelop you. Its unnerving because the enemy will have vanished,

you question whether you have actually lost them or if they are waiting

silently for your next move.

Then other times when you are completely separated from enemy

troops, have not seen nor heard anything for days in the forests, you will

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smell a cigarette on the wind, here the banter or men moving through the

woodsthis is the most hair-raising. You will round a bend to see the cobra

coiled and resting.

Let me go back to where I was before I ended for sleep the other

night. At the moment, I am safe deep within the forests, and I have fresh

candles to continue my midnight rendezvous with these pages.

In the summer months after the trip into Warsaw, we had been heavily

scouting the area surrounding Annas house. We would travel all the way

into the Soviet territory and then turn south sometimes spanning distances

that would take us all the way to Hungary or Slovokia, then back north

behind the German forces that had built along the Vistula River.

It was in these days that Alex revealed his training and passed on the

skills of a soldier to me. I learned how to wire explosives and we discussed

placement for maximum efficacy and damage. This is where I excelled.

Coming from a family of engineers, from a child I had understoodconversations about structural integrity and tensile strengths, challenges of

weight baring equipment and load.

I could take one good look at a bridge and tell you within a moment

where the best placement would be. Along railroad tracks, especially the

curves where the train would be, guaranteed derailment by its own

momentum after passing the damaged length.

I learned how to become a marksman, I could hit a melon at a hundred

meters with the Russian Moisin, but most of all we walked. Mapped in our

minds and remembered details along the way. The Germans moved through

Poland swiftly, but they did not know it intimately. That was for us, that was

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our advantage. Our group was responsible for information making it to

where it needed to go, retrieving it from its sources and organizing the

forces in the forests according to what intelligence our city-bound brethren

had passed along to us.

The amount of traveling we did would astound the mind, always

creeping just along the peripheral before boldly walking into the heart of a

heavily patrolled city with our forged passes. The Stork Commando, one of

the greatest groups, used our intelligence to launch its counter assaults

against the Gestapo, the partisans of the forests used our targets for food

caches, which consisted of barns left unprotected by sympathizers working

with our cause and then reported as a theft, or legitimate storage for the SS

that were pilfered by the resistance.

I saw my cousin less and less as it became necessary for me to dwell

in the forests, camped deep in the Forest of Sczeck, and required for her to

protect her cover as a country civilian working diligently to fulfill her quota

of foodstuffs to the Third Reich. The fear of civilians, to provide any type ofassistance to the partisans in the forests was very real. After the Germans

crashed through the Polish countryside and the cities, they asserted their

authority in a number of ways. First, they had a particularly cruel, but highly

efficient administrator off Gestapo forces, Herman Zimmerman, post lists of

villagers names in a central location of each village, it had percentages of

men, women, and last but not least by any means, children.

Then, rules for offenses were posted, any one causing a disturbance

would be responsible for not only himself, but two people at random from

the list being shot in the central square, dissidence would bring death to four

people. An act of sabotage or assistance to partisans would cause six to be

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selected, any act of violence against a German officer would result in twelve

people to be shot. These were not hollow words.

A woman, not far from Krakow in a village of quiet farmers, was

caught hording food in the forests for the obvious purpose of assisting the

partisans. Her name was Alana Sobieski, she was dragged and beaten into

the central square, her defiant eyes, and scream of Resist! were valiant but

short lived, her lifeless body was riddled with holes by the Gestapo. As a

result of her display of defiance, the Gestapo picked not twelve, but twenty

from the list. Ten men, five women, and five boys of no more than fourteen

years of age, lined them up in the center of the town and then shot them all.

This ruthless efficiency for dealing with any act in opposition to the

Germans rules turned everyone into paranoid neighbors, not because they

didnt believe in the cause to resist but because you never knew who would

fail in keeping the support covert.

Alanas daughter Crystyna waited until dark after watching her

mother be shot, and then left into the forests traveling under the protection ofnight. She did not know if she would make it but she kept a brisk pace until

thirteen hours later, we caught her, interrogated her to make sure she was not

an agent of the Gestapo, held her hostage, then verified her story. She would

rather starve with us and die for a purpose than to be gunned down with out

a chance of retribution. She was a simple girl but one with a sense of duty.

She had the habit of saying she didnt know how to do anything but if

you showed her she would try. It became a joke to us when she said this

because though she could not read, she would listen to you with her dark

hair cascading around her face and her forehead wrinkled up in deep

concentration, and then without second instruction, nail it every single time.

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No one ever had to show Crystyna something twice. She had the high

cheekbones of a Russian, but she was Polish through and through. I showed

her how to break down the Moisin rifle, clean and oil it, and she proved

herself adept at mechanical things. Thus, we gave her responsibilities over

the up keep of our weapons.

But let me tell you the second things the Germans did. They burned

the schools in every village, and city, they burned all books of learning and

began destroying everything of Polish heritage and pilfering anything that

was not, but worth value, works of art and such. Then they started

evacuating entire villages to make them purely German. Poles were

murdered by the thousands for this purpose, especially in the North and in

Zamosc.

We had a group in Krakow that was sending us information about

supply trains that were both transporting massive amounts of Poles for slave

labor, as well as the occasional train carrying arms and support for the

German soldiers. It was for this reason we had been traveling the southernroute in the forests we were located. September had come again, almost a

year to date since the occupying pigs had invaded. The nights were cold as

Alex, Crystyna, Jakub, myself, and Szymon, lay in the forests keeping watch

on the trains recording how many went in to Krakow, how many of those

were supply trains, and how many were labor trains. We noticed an unusual

amount of trains containing Jews, not from Poland, but from other countries,

Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia, they would all go to a place like

Majdanek.

We had decided it was time to strike at a supply train after spending

two days precariously under the noses of the Gestapo forces that patrolled

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outside the perimeter of Krakow. We had been traveling up and down the

Vistula between Krakow and Sandomierz, looking for a good place to place

a charge that would send the train into the river. The patrols were not that

intense at the location we had chosen because of its distance from the city

but let me recount it as it happened

Alex lay close to the ground staring through the brush at the tracks.

The beech trees gave us plenty of foliage for cover, should anything prompt

our retreat, the forest would consume us like ghosts in the darkness of

dreams.

Koz, what do you think of this? That support under the first bracing

of the bridge, if we blow that then the train should smash through the rest

under its own weight and take care of this route for awhile? Alex was just

airing his thoughts on the matter, he wasnt depending on my response to

make a decision.

Yeah, if it is a long train and it continues to pile upon itself, grantedits traveling fast enough, they will spend a month just unraveling the mess.

Jakub lay on his back looking in the opposite direction, covering our

rear. He had escaped from the concentration camp Majdanek, after being

there only a month. When he was brought to us by another unit in the forest,

they confirmed that he had killed a German officer, and wore his uniform

right out the front gate. It was a story I questioned sometimes, but when

Jakub talked about what they did to prisoners in the camp, the Gibbets where

they hung from, the death every morning, you knew he was telling the

truthHe only wanted to find a unit that would strike back. His only crime

was he was suspected of having Jewish blood, for that he was one of the first

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to be sent to Majdanek. He was lanky, and though he had gained some

weight since being with us, he looked perpetually emaciated.

We must do something about the trains Jakub turned his head

toward the tracks, They are cars of death and every person on them is

bound to die one way or another, if it is not the labor and the starvation, it is

the bullet and the damned Gibbet.

Szymon pointed west down the line of track. Here comes one of the

trains now, supply or labor that is the question. He pulled out his little pad

to note what it was, he had been recording everything we saw so we could

report to our currier when we got back. The information would travel all the

way to London by the time it made its final destination. Szymon had been a

teacher in Lublin before they burned his school to the ground.

I lay there staring down the line. It had to be a long train for it wasnt

traveling at full speed. I could see the German soldiers hanging between the

cars every so often. They eyed the forest with suspicion knowing somewhere

out there, we lurked. They shifted from one side to the other between thecars.

As the train began to pass, I could see it was another transport of

humans, the only supply it contained was labor, or victims bound to meet a

tragic end. As it passed Jakub never stopped shaking his head, grief on his

face.

They are all Jews again, why so many lately? Germany is sending

everyone, from every land here to die or work in the arms factories

connected to the camps.

Look Szymon pointed to the side of a car. One of those poor

souls is trying to get out of that car.

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I could barely see it, but sure enough, two struggling arms were trying

desperately to bend the wire from the boxcar window. Then to everyones

amazement the grate fell from the car, shooting across the ground as it

tumbled away.

Son of a bitch, look at that Szymon said.

Alex grumbled, Poor bastard wont have a chance with those

German soldiers staring down the cars.

I said, Problem is that if they jump and attract the attention of

soldiers they could be all over us. Prepare to retreat, but just in case do we

give them a chance and cover them? I already was sighting my rifle on the

train. The car with the newly acquired hole was rapidly approaching us.

Everyone followed suit, there was no time to give it more thought. We

had to play it out as it happened, for the side of the car in question began to

give birth to a body through the hole. As the desperate attempt of the

prisoner tried to excise himself, I looked to find a soldier to lay mark on, but

in the way fate sometimes favors desperate attempts at controlling ones owndestiny, the soldier I had spotted, retreated between the cars to the other side

unaware of what was taking place.

The prisoner would have a clean run if he were fast enough. The body

gave one last effort pushing away from the side of the train, fell roughly to

the ground, and tumbled for several meters.

Crystyna was the first to say what we probably all surmised at the

same time. It is a girlthe prisoner is a girl.

The tumbling ball of limbs quickly righted herself, and with

determination, shot for the tree line directly toward us. Alex said in an

urgent voice, Cover her for we have no choice now.

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My eyes darted back and forth from her to the train as she spanned the

distance. At any second, I expected the soldier to come back through the

passage between the cars sounding the alarm by shooting the prisoner in the

back.

She is going to run right over us. No sooner had Jakub said this than

the sound of her feet making haste became audible as she cleared the Beech

tree line. No one moved. Alex never took his eyes of the train.

She stumbled, attempted to get up in the way one running for life and

death does, stepped two feet, then shock over took her as she stared into my

eyes. She raised her hand with a weapon but I, healthy, rested, and trained,

launched from my position and grabbed her hand with one of my own and

covered her mouth with the other, dropping like a sack of potatoes to the

ground again.

She was full of the strength that defies logic when considering

someone so small. However, her breathing was labored for she had sprinted,

her juggler was pulsing in her neck, and her eyes bulged like that of a rabbitin a snare. All but Alexs eyes were on us.

I told her in German to be quiet lest she get us all killed. Her eyes shot

around rapidly with the hyperactivity of a mind quickly trying to make sense

of a fast moving moment. She understood the German, her dark curly brown

hair, and my knowledge of Hitlers Jewish solution allowed me to estimate

where she originated.

She quit struggling, and I could be wrong but, I thought I heard a sigh

of recognition and relief, she understood we were resistance, not soldiers.

Alex got up low to the ground. Quickly, lets move back into the safety of

the forest. I do not know what favor with God this girl has, but at the

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moment, I see no sign that she has been seen. We shall not take chances

though.

Everyone got up. I said to the girl in my arms, I will let you free from

my grasp, we will move quickly to the safety of the forest do you understand

me? Do not struggle, and do not run unless it is with us, it is your only

chance at survival, do you understand.

She grabbed my hand and pulled it away from her mouth, which I

allowed her to do. Between, gasping breaths she spoke in perfect and

educated German to the astonishment of us all. Yes, I understand, I will not

fight you but please, let us move away from here.

We rose together and began our retreat into the trees. As we walked,

the girl stayed close to me. I imagined this was due to the instinct associated

with survival, I was the first thing that she could identify with having no

interest in her death. I was leading her away from the very thing that was.

As I looked at her for the first time, I realized that despite her

emaciated frame, she was no doubt starving, she possessed a pride in herwalk and a beauty in her face. I also noticed she was bleeding profusely

from her shoulder.

You are hurt. Let me see the wound. I stepped toward her but we

both kept our pace moving forward. She looked at me with question in her

eyes, but as she looked to her arm, she understood she needed care.

She was in a wool dress made of good construction, something that

would have been thrown into the pile headed to Germany the minute she had

arrived at whatever depot of death the train was headed.

She moved the bloody material from her shoulder. I caught myself

on the metal as I slid from the car, I did not realize it was as bad as it looks

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now. She looked up at me in a matter of fact way. It was a statement,

nothing more.

Alex was watching, I knew he was questioning what the situation

would turn into. If we had to stop to repair the girls injury then it would be

jeopardizing our need to make good time.

I looked at the wound. I will suture this when we get to safety, until

then you must hold pressure against the wound to stop the bleeding, I have

what I need in my pack as I am the groups medic.

I pulled the pack from my back and removed a strip of cloth dressing.

Before I handed it to her she grabbed it, placed it on her shoulder applying

obvious pressure without a wince, and stated, I intend to be no burden and I

will not slow us down. I am sorry for my inconvenience but grateful for my

situation. She looked at Alex when she said this, having picked up on his

valuation of her presence.

Alex nodded. Fair enough, we shall travel back toward camp. Our

mission here is finished for now. It is a days walk. Alex stated this as arequirement to be met, not a period to be negotiated. The girl nodded in

affirmance showing her understanding of what was required.

I wondered in my mind as we all walked in silence, what it must be

like in those first moments, of escape from death. What was she thinking,

not knowing what, or where, we were going but acknowledging at the

moment that it was the best option available. It took a good fifteen minutes

before her breathing had returned to the normal rate but she made good pace

the entire time. In my mind, I knew this had to be difficult for her.

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She had me curious of course. What is your name? What would you

choose to be called rather as you will realize names mean not a whole lot out

here other than a call signal, its safer that way.

She looked at me as if evaluating what that meant. Her eyebrows were

thin and feminine, I could not tell if she made them so, or if it was natural. It

seemed odd to consider a girl to care about such when coming out of

wherever preceded the train ride.

My name is Sarah, I grew up in Hamburg, Germany. That is until

they rounded us up and put us in the Ghetto. Her voice tapered off as she

said the last part, as if she became lost in some distant thought.

My name is Koz. I have others, but within this group that is what I

am called, and until we figure out I was about to say what to do with her

but she finished for me.

to do with me? Trust that I well know I am a transient in a foreign

land, but please allow me enough time to give input as to what my future

will hold.Szymon jumped in. It appeared your future was very short only

moments ago girl. I wouldnt be so picky. He could be abrasive to anything

not polish, I imagined he was having a conflict in his mind.

With a cold even tone Sarah said, I was bound to make my fate

different from the one on that train no matter what the result. I did not

choose to meet you, though I acknowledge it surely is to my benefit at the

moment.

Consider that any enemy of Hitler is a friend of mine and I mean you

no harm sir, if only to fight a common evil. Her chin thrust upward as she

said it, giving her comment an air of believability.

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Well stated. Jakub said. I agree that your fate was in your hands no

matter what, and that we have intertwined our day, there is no doubt, but rest

assured our goal right now is only to get a safe distance from here.

Alex grumbled in his low timbre, Jakub is right, we can evaluate this

at a later time, ease your mind Sarah.

So, with that we walked. Crystyna gravitated to our side of the group,

out of curiosity no doubt, for I caught her every few minutes staring at the

newest addition. I assumed she harbored compassion for anyone daring

enough to attempt what this girl had. She herself had ventured into the

unknown, hoping on something better in the forest.

Afternoon approached, and we had been traveling into the depths for

several hours headed east, slightly northeast. We crossed a stream and Alex

indicated it was a good place to rest for a moment. I told Sarah to come and

sit on a fallen tree so I could mend her wound. Crystyna told her to give her

the dress so she could wash the blood from it in the stream. Sarah only

briefly gave her modesty a thought, she had a slip underneath, and it wasbloodied as well. I shall wash this as soon as I can put the other on, thank

you dearlyuh sorry I do not know your name.

Crystyna, you can call me Crystyna, and it is no trouble really

She said this with the genuine intent she meant.

Syzmon just stared from where he was, seating himself, cynicism

written all over his face. I had no time to pay him mind. He thought

Crystyna a foolish girl, despite her proven ability. I wasnt prepared to make

argument if he wasnt ready to voice his disapproval vocally.

Sarah removed the cloth she had been holding on the wound. The

pressure had served its purpose and staunched the bleeding. I moved to the

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stream, rinsed the rag thoroughly, came back and cleaned the wound. I

straddled the log with my kit and inspected it, about seven centimeters in

length, a centimeter in depth.

Are you ready, this will not be pleasant. I had nothing in the way of

anesthesia.

I am sure that is an understatement. She smiled slightly. I am as

ready as I am ever going to be. Proceed. She looked at what I was doing.

As the first suture went in, the only indication of her pain was the white

knuckles she used to grip the bark of the fallen log. For the entire process,

she watched the procedure and made not a sound.

Well, a medic you are Koz, thank you. Her composer was

admirable. I looked at my work and put my things away.

It is superficial and should heal nicely. You will suffer little or no

loss of mobility as a result. In her face, I saw appreciation that she did not

have to say in words. Crystyna brought her dress back. Sarah got up from

the log, thanked her, and went to the stream. Everyone gave her the respectwhen realizing she was changing one to the other. She washed her slip,

wrung it, and hung it over a limb.

I had some of the most valued item we had, bread, and retrieved it for

a bit of sustenance. The girl was obviously hunger starved, but was not

going to ask for anything that was not offered. I gave her some of my ration,

she did not argue, but took a place next to me and began to eat it.

No sooner had everyone followed suit than the sound of automatic fire

ruptured the quiet of the forest. I leapt from my position and grabbed my

rifle. Everyone scrambled to do the same. We could not see the source from

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our location. Just on the other side of the stream was an incline, then a ridge,

it obscured the line of sight.

I got behind a tree for cover, Alex was already crouched to the ground

with his rifle in the direction of the calamity. Jakub took cover beneath the

fallen tree I had just used as a make shift operating table, Crystyna beside

him. Sarah was behind me.

Several men burst over the ridge, they were obviously partisans by

their clothing, and making a quick retreat. One of them turned and took

cover behind a tree and returned fire at something we were yet to see.

Clakclakclak The man aimed with determination, fired again and

then retreated, as he went we heard the return fire from his pursuer, the bark

of the tree he was standing at ate the bullets, splintering, and vomiting a

mulch from the violence inflicted on it.

The man in the lead passed us, and saw our position, realized we were

friends not foe with lightning quick ability. He dropped to the ground.

Comrades, six Germans in pursuit, we have limited munitions left. Thesecond two dropped, following suit of the first man. All shared a look of

relief, but remained focused on the ridge.

ClakClakClak The first German soldier in his green uniform

came over the line, fired, then took cover behind a tree. His troop was right

behind him but fanning out. I fired a round into the tree he was behind to

slow his pursuit. Alex, Szymon, and Jakub, did the same. It stopped the

advancement. The soldiers realized they had walked into something greater

than the party they had just been chasing. I reached back and pulled the girl

closer to me. Raised the rifle and fired again.

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Szymon was the only one currently exposed to fire from his position.

We were below the ridge, the Germans had the upper advantage. He was

quickly edging his way to cover. Then the rattling of the rifles began again

and I saw him go down, he let out a scream in protest to his injury. I yelled

to Alex to cover, a hail of bullets flew in both directions at this point.

Crystyna was firing from over the log serving as her cover. The Germans

were pinned in, but so were we.

Before I was conscience of the girls disappearance, I saw Sarah run

to Syzmon, grab him under the arms, and drag him as he struggled to make

use of his legs in assistance. She set him behind a tree, I could not believe

the courage of the girl as she went back into the open to retrieve Szymons

rifle. I never stopped firing attempting to give her as much cover as possible.

I saw the ground by her feet spit dirt into the air showing receipt for the

rounds that inserted themselves there.

She straddled Syzmon, then took aim around the tree and began to fire

in the direction of the soldiers, sliding the bolt awkwardly, and then firingagain.

I looked back to the advancement, saw the shadow of a green uniform

as he darted from one tree to the next. He was trying to slide around the

back. They were all beginning to spread, wider and wider, an attempt to

circle us. I predicted the next leap he would make, and fired, I saw his body

receive the impact and tumble backward.

The partisans that had taken cover with us began to counter the fan

and spread out. Alex signaled to follow suit to Jakub, he pointed at me, and

then Syzmon. I nodded, and he gave fire to cover me. I ran low to the

ground, I ended up behind Sarah, she looked back with fierce determination

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in her face, recognized me, turned back, and continued firing. She stood so I

could move Szymon from beneath her.

He was hit in the chest but high enough that it could be survived. He

looked at me with fear in his eyes and I reassured him. Its too high,

comrade, nothing vital. There was no blood in his mouth. I assumed he was

in immense pain, his clavicle appeared to have been shattered. Stay low,

they are fanning out around us. He nodded.

I saw Alex take aim and I followed his line of sight. I raised my rifle,

we will never know whose bullet split the Germans head in two, but he fell

to his knees, and then slumped lifeless to the ground. That meant four more.

The Germans stopped the forward movement. They continued firing

from their positions, but realized they had become out numbered. I heard the

command given to retreat. Alex signaled me to follow and we moved from

tree to tree, Jakub fell in, ten meters to our right. I looked back, motioned

with my hands for Crystyna to cover Szymon and the girl. She nodded and

fired in the direction of the now fleeing soldiers. As one made his way to theridge in which he had come, Jakub raised his rifle, and fired, the shot hit the

German low and he fell. He struggled to turn over and retrieve the rifle that

had fallen to the ground but Jakub had already begun sprinting toward him.

As the German grasped his gun and swung to give his last stand, Jakub

displaced his brain with a shot from his pistol.

Bullets tore up the turf around him, and he jumped back to cover

behind a Beech, the German attempting to salvage his soldiers life a bit to

late, continued to fire at Jakub. He must not have understood the man was

dead. In this, he made the mistake of revealing himself. One of the partisans

had been making way along the outer edge of the ridge and doubled over

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where it crested. The German never saw him as the man leveled, took aim,

and fired. The soldiers head clanked with the bullet penetrating the helmet,

his face smashed into the tree, the body fell waywardly to the ground.

We moved forward as a unit now. The man who had taken the last

shot approached us. There is an officer with them, we should attempt to

take him alive if possible. They intercepted us crossing a country road a

kilometer north of here and gave chase. That road runs to Lwow. Has to be a

carrier, perhaps has some information with him.

Alex gave him the affirmative and told us to quicken the pace. The

Germans were now trying to put distance between them and us as quickly as

possible. Every few trees length I spanned, I raised the rifle and fired forcing

the two remaining men to take cover, which allowed us to gain a meter at a

time.

Alex yelled to me. Take the right flank, you two with him. He

pointed in the direction. The two partisans followed the older mans orders

and moved with me. Alex, Jakub, and the other partisan moved left andbegan to run to cover the distance. As soon as the Germans began taking fire

from the left, they hankered down and prepared for battle. We were quickly

coming up on the right and I directed the two men to spread out. The Two

Germans were pinned between a felled tree and an indention or recess that

appeared to be a dried streambed. They fired from over the tree, one turning

back, while the other fired forth. It was a hopeless situation for them. The

onslaught of bullets they were taking on, shredded the wood they took cover

behind.

It would have been over had we not intended to capture the officer. I

moved from tree to tree closing in the space toward them. They did not see

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me, for they were concerned with the bullets from both sides. My comrades

were aware of my position and diverted attention from me strategically. The

ground was littered with rotted logs; I crept to the edge of the streambed,

now I could see the soldier shooting from behind the tree. He was less than

thirty paces; I could see the sweat boiling down his face as he grimaced. The

officer had his SchmeisserMP40 Machine pistol, in one hand but he was

desperately trying to light a bundle of papers on fire beside him in a last

ditch effort to conceal his purpose, and destroy his intelligence.

I broke from my spot and raised my rifle, as the soldier turned I was

less than ten paces, the shot rang out, hit him center mass throwing him

against the tree. I closed the distance in three long steps to the remaining

officer, raised the butt of my rifle and brought it down against the side of his

head.

The two partisans that had accompanied me were sent to move the

German Staff car, and the motorcycle with sidecar, from the country roadand into the cover of the forests. There was nothing for ten kilometers in

each direction out there. The Germans were stripped of there uniforms by

Crystyna and Jakub, they quickly rinsed them in the stream. Alex and the

partisan man who went by Viktor, were doing the best at concealing the

bodies in the forest surroundings. I was tending to Szymon while Sarah kept

a rifle on the German officer hog-tied on the ground.

Thirty minutes later Alex returned and grabbed the officer by his arms

sitting him up. The man was stripped of his uniform, down to his skivvies,

Alex held the bundle of papers, singed from the failed attempt to light them

on fire. Well, Captain Konrad Halder, what have you gotten yourself into?

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He hissed, Your people will not be long in standing all the air left

his lungs as the rifle butt hit him in the diaphragm of his chest. Sarah turned

and walked away.

Jakub kneeled in front of him. Grabbed him by his hair and pulled his

head back. I was in Majdanek, CaptainYou dare call any of us animals

knowing the crimes you commit against humanity? He turned to Alex and

looked with a pleading in his eyes. Let me handle this oneI need only the

notes and some privacy.

The first look of concern crossed the German Captains face. In that

second I felt a small amount of justice, it was the dawning in this mans

mind, that he fathomed he might answer for his actions in a just and equal

manner. Perhaps it was in my head, perhaps the man just recognized his end

not being swift, but still it was my illusion to think, my satisfaction to have.

Alex was going over a specific page in the notes, a list of names.

These names, they are of Poles, what is the significance, men to meet death,

collaborators, what?I am ready to dieThat paper work is as you will read and nothing

more, for you will get nothing from me. He said it with disgust in his voice.

Alex walked behind the man, kicked him viciously in his kidneys, the

force rolling the man over into the dirt again. Oh, I have no doubt you are

ready to die, but death you will not meet easily. Alex pulled a knife from

his boot, stepped on the ankle of the Captain, and with the stroke of a

butcher inserted the blade between the Achilles tendon, and the heel, then

thrust outward. The blood-curtailing scream was the first indication that the

man could feel pain. As I said, you will die, but what I have in the matter of

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time in an endless forest, with nothing better to do but this, that is your

destiny I can bring it swiftly or not.

The Captains chest was now heaving in labored breaths. It is a list of

farmers who have not met their quotas that is all.

Alex studied the papers for a moment. Everything on here from

Krakow, it is only supply requests for your men, and reports on the

munitions being produced from the camps. I see nothing of agrarian concern,

I dont think these are farmers on this list

The Captain had recovered though in pain. You are such foolish

men. Do you think the likes of you will really win against the Third Reich?

In the forests like desperate squirrels, freezing to death in the winter, what

have you accomplished other than to make the Nazis step on the necks of

your people as the result of your resistance?

The only fool is you, to believe the soul of the Polish people will be

broken, it is a matter of time but the Reich will fall, your evil is to big an

ideal, the goal of Hitler so lofty it is destined to fail. Alex paced back andforth. I could see Jakub becoming inpatient with the discourse between the

Documents

Hope Worth Dying For