Russia at war

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Russia at war Page 74

by Alexander C Werth


  From now on, Soviet policy had two objectives—to denounce and debunk the Polish

  Government in London as "unrepresentative", and to proclaim its intention of supporting those wishing to build a "free, strong, and democratic Poland". On May 6, Stalin answered the questions of Ralph Parker, the Times correspondent, as follows: Q. Does the Government of the USSR desire to see a strong independent Poland

  after the defeat of Nazi Germany?

  A. Unquestionably.

  Q. What, in your view, should be the basis for relations between Poland and the

  USSR after the war?

  A. Sound good-neighbourly relations and mutual respect, or, if the Polish people

  desire it, a basis of mutual aid against the Germans, the principal enemies of both the Soviet Union and Poland.

  On the same day, Vyshinsky called a press conference and produced his long indictment against the London Government. He spoke in a particularly harsh and snarling manner, reminiscent of his manner as Public Prosecutor in the notorious purge trials of 1936-8.

  He began by giving his account, quoted above, of the formation of the Anders army, and then went on to deal with the charges that it had been undernourished.

  He argued that, owing to the Pacific War and other causes, there was a food shortage in Russia in 1942. Non-combat troops could, clearly, not be as well fed as combat troops.

  As the Polish Command persisted in not wishing them to fight, they had to be regarded as such. Finally, on April 1, it was decided that the rations would be cut down to 44,000, and that those over and above that figure could leave the Soviet Union.

  In March 1942, 31,488 soldiers and 12,455 members of their families were evacuated.

  But while refusing to fight, said Vyshinsky, the Polish Government desired to go on mobilising new units; however, in reply to the Polish Note of June 10,1942, on the subject, the Russians refused to allow any further mobilisations. It was then that the question of total evacuation was raised, and in August 1942 a further 44,000 soldiers and 20,000 to 25,000 dependents left the country.

  Thus, already in 1942, 75,491 soldiers and 37,756 members of their families left the Soviet Union.

  All the assertions, he said, that the Soviet authorities prevented Polish citizens in the Soviet Union (who were "not numerous") or members of Polish soldiers' families, from leaving the country, were a lie.

  Here, of course, was a sticky point. There were believed to be some 300,000 or 400,000

  Polish citizens, including Jews, still in the Soviet Union. But (a) had they expressed the wish to leave for Iran, rather than wait for Poland to "open" and, (b) even if they did, and there was no means of transport, could it be said that they had been "prevented " from leaving? Further, very many of those whom the Polish Government considered Polish

  citizens, were no longer Polish citizens in the eyes of the Russians. At least, not as far as joining the Anders Army was concerned—though points were, in fact going later to be

  stretched in the case of the Kosciuszko and other Russian-formed divisions.

  Vyshinsky partly explained the problem when he said that, in the early stages of Polish-Soviet relations in 1941, it was agreed by the Russians that Polish nationality could be regained by the Poles of Western Ukraine and Belorussia—this with a view to their joining the Anders Army.

  The Polish Government did not, however, consider itself satisfied, and pressed for the cancellation of Soviet nationality for other inhabitants of Western Ukraine and

  Belorussia.

  Far from satisfying this claim, the Russians decided, once the Anders Army had left, that there was no longer any purpose in making an exception for the Poles, and all former Polish subjects in Western Ukraine and Belorussia, again became Soviet citizens, in terms of the original Soviet ukase of November 29, 1939. This decision was taken on January 16, 1943.

  This was the subject that had been Ambassador Romer's chief concern when diplomatic

  relations between Poland and the Soviet Union were broken off.

  The second part of Vyshinsky's statement dealt with the large network of Polish welfare organisations, to which Romer had referred in the statement quoted above:

  After referring to the twenty "agencies" the Polish Embassy had set up in the Soviet Union, ostensibly for the purpose of dealing with these welfare organisations, and

  quoting numerous cases of more than "incorrect" Polish behaviour, Vyshinsky said that the Polish Embassy people, including Ambassador Kot, instead of busying themselves

  with the welfare of their fellow-citizens were, in reality, engaged in espionage. Many, he said, were arrested, some expelled from the Soviet Union, and others sentenced to a

  number of years' imprisonment. (It all savoured a bit of 1937!)

  Soon afterwards it was learned that the Union of Polish Patriots had largely been put in charge of these schools, hospitals, et cetera.

  Decision to form Polish Army in the Soviet Union

  On May 9, it was officially announced that the Council of People's Commissars had

  agreed to the request of the Union of Polish Patriots in the USSR concerning the

  formation on Soviet soil of the Tadeusz Kosciuszko Division which would fight against the German invaders, alongside the Red Army. The statement added: "The formation of this division has already begun."

  That same day, there was a great All-Slav meeting in Moscow. Greetings were sent to

  Stalin, Churchill, Roosevelt and Benes. Representatives from all the Slav countries were there, among them Colonel Svoboda, the Commander of the Czechoslovak unit which

  had distinguished itself so well on the Russian front at the end of March; the

  Metropolitan Nicholas was there in his robes and tiara; a girl who had escaped from

  Dachau also spoke, and the introductory speech was made by Fadeyev, President of the Writers' Union, who said:

  The Russian people are totally opposed to the thoroughly reactionary idea of Pan-

  Slavism, which Russian Tsarism tried to use in its imperialist ambitions. The

  Russian people are united with the other Slav peoples in their struggle against the common foe on a basis of equality and of profound respect for their freedom, and

  their national honour and dignity.

  But the real clou of the meeting was the presence of Wanda Wassilewska and Colonel Berling. Wassilewska, tall, dark, more highly strung than ever, exclaimed:

  From here, from the Eastern Front we shall break through to Poland, a great strong and just Poland. Polish brethren! Listen to the shots fired on the Eastern Front!...

  And shame on those who are urging you to follow a policy of disastrous inactivity!

  Colonel Berling, an ugly, burly man with cropped hair, and looking older than his age, said:

  The road to our homeland lies across the battlefield, and we, Poles in the Soviet Union, are now taking this road.

  In the next two months there were to be many more discussions around the Polish

  problem; violent editorials about the London Poles, meetings by the Union of Polish

  Patriots, etc. Wolna Polska published more revelations about the high officers of the Anders Army and about Anders himself who, according to Zygmunt Berling, now

  Commander of the Kosciuszko Division, had said that he was glad the Polish Army was

  being trained on the Middle Volga, because, with the collapse of the Red Army, the Poles could get away to Iran along the Caspian, and then "they could do what they liked".

  Berling also said: "What an opportunity Anders missed when he could have thrown one Polish Division into the Battle of Moscow, and failed to do so! " He also referred to General Okulicki, Anders's chief of staff (and later, in 1945, the chief defendant in the Moscow trial of the Polish Right-wing Underground) who

  was sabotaging the supply base on the Caspian through which British arms and

  food were to come to the Anders Army from Iran... The Polish warehouses at

>   Teheran were bursting with stuff in 1942—stuff that the British had been sending—

  and food was going rotten. But the Anders Command would not allow a single

  British rifle, tank or case of food to be sent to Russia, and the supply base was to be used for one thing only—the evacuation of the Polish troops from Russia.

  But all this recrimination was becoming ancient history (not, however, ancient history of no consequence), and what was of immediate interest now was the development of

  Russian Policy towards the "other" Poland, and, in the first place, the progress of the new Polish Division. I was to see the Kosciuszko Division on July 15, and it was something of a revelation.

  The camp of the Polish Division was in a beautiful pine forest, on the steep banks of the Oka river, about two-thirds of the way from Moscow to Riazan. In the surrounding

  villages, in that heart of hearts of Great-Russia, it was odd to see soldiers in Polish uniform wearing square confederatka caps, talking to the local inhabitants. No Polish soldiers had ever been anywhere near these parts since 1612, in the days of Ivan Susanin!

  However, these were in khaki, and not in the dazzling costumes they wore in 1612, if one is to believe the costume designers of the Bolshoi Theatre!

  It was a large camp, with well-built wooden barracks and everywhere there were Polish inscriptions, slogans and symbols. The whole forest was teeming with white Polish

  eagles. We arrived there on the night of the 14th, and the 15th was Grünwald Day, when the Kosciuszko Division was to take the oath on the large parade ground. Grünwald was a battle in the Middle Ages which the combined forces of Slavdom—Poles, Russians and

  also Lithuanians —had fought against the Teutonic Knights, and by which they had

  delayed the Germanic expansion to the east. To the Poles it was what the Battle of the Ice, fought on Lake Peipus by Alexander Nevsky in 1242, was to the Russians. It was

  also a great symbol of Slav unity.

  On that night of the 14th, there were many guests seated round the supper table in a large army hut: some Russian generals, Commandant Mirlès, representing the French airmen in France, Czech officers—in short, representatives of all the nations fighting on the Soviet-German Front. For reasons of etiquette, or rather for fear of being snubbed, the Poles had not invited any official British or American representatives. A Russian general called Zhukov— only a namesake of the Marshal's, and, according to the London Poles, an

  NKVD general—was the principal Russian attached to the Polish division, and had

  played a leading part in its training, organisation and equipment.

  Many Poles who were later to become familiar figures I saw there for the first time.

  Major Grosz—later General Grosz who was to become one of the chief political advisers of the Polish General Staff; Captain Modzelewski, a seemingly modest and quiet little man, who was later to become Polish Ambassador to Moscow and then Foreign Minister;

  Captain Borojsza, who was later to become "dictator" of the Polish Press.

  And there was a priest there, Father Kupsz, who was said to have been a Polish partisan, and who had recently smuggled himself into Russia. Father Kupsz was a young man with mousey hair and very cagey.

  The proceedings on the night of the 14th were presided over by Wanda Wassilewska, and by Colonel Beding.

  The next day started with an open-air mass. This was totally unlike the Red Army. An open-air Catholic altar had been erected in an open space in the forest, and Father Kupsz officiated. The altar was decorated with three large panels, one with a symbolic picture of the Christian Faith protected by a Polish soldier, the middle panel showed a Polish eagle, and, below it, a crown of thorns surrounding the figures 1939, 1940, 1941, 1942 and

  1943, and with enough room left for one, or, at most, two more dates; the third panel represented a scene of the Nazi terror in Poland. The altar was decorated with flowers and fir-branches and an orchestra of two violins and several brass instruments took the place of the organ. Hundreds of soldiers were kneeling down as they prayed, and later many of them, and scores of auxiliary service girls in khaki, received the holy sacrament. All this in the middle of the pine-forest made a memorable picture.

  The most important event of the day was the long march-past of the Kosciuszko Division, preceded by their taking the oath, and the presentation to the Division of its banner with the white Polish eagle on a red-and-white background, inscribed "For Country and Honour" on one side, and a portrait of Kosciuszko on the other. Everywhere, there was a great display of Polish national symbols, and no suggestion that this was in any way a Russian show—except that the Polish spokesmen continuously emphasised their

  gratitude to the Soviet Union and the Red Army. In the oath, which, phrase after phrase, thousands of Polish soldiers repeated in chorus, standing there on the parade ground, they swore not only that they would fight to the last drop of blood to liberate Poland from the Germans, but they also swore fidelity to their Russian allies "who had put the weapons of war into their hands". And then the march-past began.

  It went on for nearly two hours. On the grandstand decorated with Polish, Russian,

  British, American, Czech and French flags, stood Wanda Wassilewska, Berling and other Polish and Russian officers, and Allied representatives. The men were mostly between twenty-five and thirty-five and were in good trim; the officers wore spruce khaki

  uniforms and square caps with the Polish eagle; the soldiers wore dark khaki summer

  tunics as they marched past, the band playing military marches. The formation of the division had started in April, but the intensive training had not begun till early June. They were not a fully trained division yet, but what had been done was described by French and other Allied representatives as very remarkable. No secret was made of the fact that the division had been trained almost exclusively by Russian officers. But the most

  notable feature was the equipment. Eighty per cent of the equipment was automatic or semi-automatic; several of the companies also had long "stove-pipe" anti-tank rifles; there were several machine-gun units and artillery units, a number of mortar units, and finally some thirty T 34 tanks. All the equipment, except for a few American trucks and jeeps, was Russian.

  This equipment was particularly interesting to see, as it was the equivalent of that of a regular Russian Guards infantry division, and the wealth of anti-tank weapons made one realise why, in the previous ten days' fighting, the Germans had failed so completely in their Kursk offensive. A Polish officer remarked (and this was later confirmed by General Zhukov) that the fire power of this division was seven times greater than that of a regular division of the Polish Army in 1939. It was stated that by October the Kosciuszko

  Division would be ready for action. This was to prove correct, and the Division fought with distinction and heavy casualties in its very first engagements.

  What of the human material?

  No precise figure could be obtained, but the great majority of the nearly 15,000 officers and men appeared to be Poles—but Poles from parts of Poland taken over by the

  Russians in 1939. What Russian I did hear spoken in the division—and nearly everybody was speaking Polish—was spoken with a Polish accent. A considerable number of the

  officers—in fact nearly all of them—had served in the Red Army; and many of them

  were decorated. One had the Stalingrad medal. But he was unmistakably a Pole, a native of Lwow, who had been mobilised into the Red Army at the beginning of the war. The

  problem of "nationality" was now solved in a curious and "non-committal" way: the principle on which people were drafted into the Polish division was whether they "felt"

  Polish. Anyone from the Western Ukraine or Belorussia who "felt" Polish could enter the division. In fact, I talked to a few soldiers who, while calling themselves Poles, said that

  "in a way" they were sorry to have moved from the Red Army into this Polish division.


  Very few of the officers and men had served in the Anders Army but there were many

  who had been "about to join" it when it left for Iran. The soldiers were told that those whose nationality was in doubt could later opt for Polish or Soviet citizenship. This applied to both Poles and persons holding Soviet passports now. There were said to be six per cent of Jews, two per cent of Ukrainians and three per cent of Belorussians in the division. Many of the men were ex-Polish war-prisoners who had come from strange and remote places in the Soviet Union, to which many had been deported as long ago as 1939.

  Others were deported civilians. In the course of the day I saw a crowd of these. They looked ragged, verminous and demoralised; they had lived in shocking conditions for a long time, and had also had a very hard and long journey from Siberia or Central Asia.

  One officer remarked, as I was talking to them: "A lot of our soldiers looked just like that when they first arrived—and now look how spick and span they are." It was true enough, and while no one could deny that many of the Poles in the east had had a very raw deal, this division at last provided a solution for them, and most of them apparently welcomed it. It did mean, if nothing else, that unless killed en route, they would be among the first to re-enter Poland; and now, after the tremendous Russian victory at Kursk, the prospect was no longer a remote one.

  Among those ragged verminous new arrivals, there was, however, one man in a half-

  demented hysterical state. He was a dark little man who shrieked a wild incoherent story in very good French— a story of how he had worked before the war on Le Peuple, the Socialist paper in Brussels, of how he then fled from Vilna to Sweden with a "temporary"

  British passport just before the Red Army arrived, of how he then got to Brussels again in 1940. And then the Germans came, and he was put in a concentration camp, but later he was released and went to Lithuania, and here he fell into Russian hands, and then, he cried hysterically, "depuis trois ans je ne suis plus parmi les vivants!" He did not seem to relish his "resurrection" by means of the Kosciuszko Division, nor the clarification of his national status.

  More refreshing was a group of Polish youngsters who had been mending roads for the

 

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