CHAPTER IV. Before the storm

REKLAMA

​As early as 1939, the Germans shut down our Polish school. Since I knew Ukrainian well, I started attending a Ukrainian school. I was soon expelled, though, because my parents refused to declare Ukrainian nationality and convert to Orthodoxy. They also tried to get me and my friend Marysia kicked out of the song and dance ensemble, but our Ukrainian teacher, who taught us to sing and dance, strongly opposed it.
​From the start of the war, the Germans incited Ukrainians against Poles, and after some time, they began to incite Poles against Ukrainians as well. While some people gave in to this, most continued to live in harmony, just as they had before the war.
​The year 1943 arrived. Horrifying news came from Volhynia about Ukrainians brutally murdering Poles. No one wanted to believe it. After a while, refugees from nearby Volodymyr began to arrive. My uncle Walerek from Jasienówka stayed in our cottage for a while. He told us about a terrible massacre in which his mother was killed and he had to flee across the Bug River to reach us.
​”My mother Weronika was stubborn and insisted she wouldn’t run away. She said she hadn’t done anything wrong to anyone, and most of the villagers, including Ukrainians, were brought into the world with her help since she was the village midwife. I stayed with her at first, but when I saw the glow in the sky over the neighboring villages, I realized we had to leave Jasienówka. My mother still refused and stayed there until the end. I hid in the hay near a Ukrainian village. An acquaintance, a Ukrainian woman, spotted me and… brought me food. After a while, she came back and said, 'Waler! The Banderites have burned Jasienivka and Sokoliwka. They have killed all the Poles. And they will come here. You must flee.’ I went back to Jasienówka one more time. I saw the burned cottages, with smoke still rising from them, and a lot of corpses. I found my mother dead in front of our cottage. She had been murdered by the Banderites. Her face was a bloody mess from a blow with a blunt tool, several centimeters deep. Apparently, she was killed with a spade… I buried my mother behind the barn and headed towards the Bug. The only thing I brought with me was a flail for defense in case the Banderite bandits attacked me.”
​”But that probably won’t happen to us,” I said. „Our Ukrainians are good people!”
​”Don’t be so sure,” a sad Kostek replied. „Even the Banderites have messed with my brother Hryćko’s head. He doesn’t want to know you because you’re a 'Laszka’ [a derogatory term for a Polish woman]. He reads and hands out Banderite leaflets saying that 'Lachy’ [a derogatory term for Poles] must be 'cut down.’ One time, my father and I burned that garbage of his in the stove, and he threatened to hack us to death! And there are more and more people like him!”
​Kostek was my sister Milka’s fiancé and Hryćko’s brother. Hryćko was my beloved, and indeed, they must have brainwashed him for him to start behaving like that.
​”There are ten times more Ukrainians over there,” my uncle said. „It’s easier to gather a gang of sons of bitches to murder people. Here, Ukrainians are in the majority too, but not by such a large margin. Plus, the Home Army is getting ready to defend us. It will be harder for the Banderites here, but they will try! They’re terrible, persistent snakes! And the Ukrainians in Volhynia are no worse or better than the ones here.”
​Fortunately, the year 1943 passed peacefully for us. For Christmas, we went to a midnight Mass in Hrubieszów with Kostek, and for Orthodox Christmas, we attended a midnight Mass in the church in Czerniczyn. There was no sign that the year 1944 would bring any terrible events.