To understand the risks these women took, it helps to have some idea of the context and the potential consequences of their actions.
So much can be said about this, but I shall settle for this extract from the experience of Julian Eugeniusz Kulski. This young Polish boy was arrested by the Gestapo in Poland and, astonishingly, released after two weeks of interrogation.
Tuesday (July 13, 1943) morning, I was sitting in my cell in total despair, thinking about my parents whom I was now sure I would never see again. But the ‘Kapo,’ the criminal trustee, suddenly called to me, ‘You are being set free.’
He gave me my release card. I just could not believe it!
But I was the only one who was silent. From the gloomy corners of the cell, sad jealous eyes looked at me and I heard everyone saying that I was lucky. The rule of the Pawiak prison is that the innocent go to Auschwitz, the guilty before a firing squad. Being released is almost unheard of.
Half an hour later I was sitting in the prison van on the way to Szucha Avenue.
Three pretty girls, their heads erect, were sitting by me in the van. Their quiet dignity caught my attention. I started to share my joy with them, but they told me that they were to be executed. The Germans had found out that they belonged to the Underground Army. They were Krystyna (16), Barbara (17) and Irena (20).
They told me about their fate so simply and openly that I did not know how to reply. Finally, I shook hands with each of them, and in this way paid tribute to their bravery. As a good-bye, they asked me to say a prayer for them in church.
Back at Szucha Avenue, I was put into the ‘sanitorium’ waiting room again. A man sitting near me had a face which one could call neither human nor animal. His jaw and cheekbones were all out of place and covered with coagulated blood. In place of his right eye was a raw wound. I could only wonder how he was still alive.
A lady of about thirty years of age was sitting on the next chair, quietly discussing with a companion the tortures she had gone through. She was talking about them in a strangely matter-of-fact way, her arms crossed over bandages where her breasts used to be. She said she had been told that she would be put on the rack sometime the next day, and implied that she hoped everything would end at last.
These people who, for their country or their faith, were suffering torture and death so bravely made a deep impression on me, and I could not help wondering if I would be so brave if it happened to me.
Extract from the book by Julian Engeniusz Kulski: Dying, We Live: The personal chronicle of a young freedom fighter in Warsaw (1939-1945).
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