Читать книгу We Were Young and at War: The first-hand story of young lives lived and lost in World War Two - Sarah Wallis - Страница 10

Queues of carts pulled by oxen in the streets, everyone is running from the Germans, the villagers are more afraid of them than of the devil himself, or just as much. In any case, the devil is always dressed up as a German in all the pictures they see. Where are all these people headed? They have no idea. How many will come back to find their family home in ruins?

At a station after Sieradz our train took on the first wounded. These people covered in blood are the first crop of the harvest of war—and to think, all of it caused by just one person, Hitler. When you cut wood, there are always splinters, as the saying goes.

Our train stops on the approach to Łódź. People look up to see if they can spot the bearers of death in the skies, coming to turn our carriages into coffins. And then, there they are. First we hear their engines, then we see them, like black hawks. They are flying towards Łódź airport, it seems. We can see three of our Polish silver birds chasing them. The heavy hawks rise up and up, slowly. There are nine of them. Our birds approach from the sides, two of them sit on the German tails. After a while, two of the German planes fall with smoke pouring out; the rest fly away. We all feel very happy. Hope fills our hearts again as we see what our silver birds can do to their hawks. The train begins to move, but just as we get to Łódź station, we’re under attack once again. We run for cover. From our shelter underground we can hear the din of anti-aircraft guns, the sound of airplanes and explosions. This might be our grave, we’ll be buried alive if it collapses on our heads. This could be the end.

We hear a radio announcement that England has declared war on Germany, but the news comes as a terrible shock—why only now? The Germans have already crossed the Varta river, thousands of cities have been bombed, thousands of German planes are hovering over the whole of our country. You were supposed to come and help Poland right from the start! The sky is bright red in the north, where the spirit factory is on fire. We sleep at the train station.

A few blocks away from Łódź railway station, fifteen-year-old Dawid Sierakowiak was also sheltering from the German air raid.