three quarters of an hour to walk past it. The goods carriages were full of Polish
weapons: machine guns, cannons, barbed wire, telephone cables, radio transmitters, cases of ammunitions. There were also mail carriages, with stacks
of letters and postal orders next to them. The largest part of the rolling stock
consisted of passenger carriages. The window panes were knocked out. It was
clear from the shattered glass that they had been knocked out with rifle butts
or by hand, which meant that panic had broken out in the carriages and the
people had escaped as best they could.
[2] The great line of rolling stock had a depressing effect on us because
it strikingly demonstrated the extent of the enemy’s superiority. At all the
stations, big and small, there were large pits by the railway bridges, the telegraph
poles were smashed, and the wires torn down, all clearly testifying to
the effectiveness of the German artillery. The strength of the German air force
was obvious, as was the fact that the German pilots carried out their tasks
with stoic calm, as if on manoeuvres. Being a heavy smoker, I felt the lack
of cigarettes. I bought two packets in a shop, as well as a few bars of chocolate,
which came in handy because the peasants wouldn’t take any money for
food and lodging, so we gave the chocolate to their children. In Skierniewice,
in a bakery to which I was directed by a woman passer-by, we managed to
get a large loaf of bread. It wasn’t easy, because the bread was meant for the
locals, not for passing strangers. Outside Skierniewice, when it was already
too late, we saw a soldier pointing a machine gun. From a distance we couldn’t
tell whether he was Polish or German, and only later did we see that it was
a German soldier. Retreating was out of the question because it would have
put our lives at risk. We walked forward, and in a few minutes came face
to face with a German corporal. He checked our passes and searched us for
weapons. I held back instinctively, letting my companions explain things
to the German corporal. My comrade produced various documents showing
that he was a high school teacher from Łódź, while the pupil wore his document
on his head — a school student’s cap. The corporal joked that we had
been on our way to Warsaw as volunteers to defend the capital, but we were
too late. We went on, hurrying to get away from that place as quickly as possible.
We followed the railway tracks to Żyrardów. On the way, we increasingly
encountered Polish soldiers coming out of the woods, with or without
weapons. They were completely disoriented, had no idea where they were or
where to go. That disorientation was characteristic not only of the infantry,
