door was forced open, the Jew made an inhuman, utterly animal roar and he
shrank into the corner as much as he could. At the same time a gendarme
rushed onto the balcony, furious and foaming at the mouth. He dragged
the unconscious Jew from the corner, hit him in the face several times, and
dragged him into the room. Everything fell silent. We suspected the worst,
but after an hour the whole thing became clear, contrary to our expectations.
I stayed on the balcony all that time so I saw everything. The limousine drove
up to the gate and the Jew went out, carrying baskets full of bottles of wine,
liqueurs, and vodka, and he put everything in the car. An officer was walking
behind him, staggering [. . .] was drunk. He tripped on the car steps and
he would have [. . .] [42] had not steadied him. They also stole some canned
food, beverages, whole boxes and baskets. They then left.
My father worked twice for the Germans during that summer. One
time he was captured and taken by tram to Okęcie. The work was very light.
At first, they pushed some wheelbarrows, but then they did not even do that.
They only sat on the grass, rested, and talked with a soldier. “You do not have
to work, but when my companion comes, I will shout at you and urge you to
work, but you should not be scared,” he told them. My father came back after
several hours. But the other time it was much worse. He was not even captured
that time. He had a crazy idea to go to the work site specified in the
work order which he had received that day. He left at 6 a.m. and returned in
the afternoon, dead tired. When he got into bed, he finally told us what had
happened. He was on Rakowiecka Street in the building of the former officer
cadet school, nowadays an SS-stelle.¹²⁵⁰ The work was very hard. At first,
they carried enormous crates with bottles of beer and wine from the cellar.
My father could not lift his load no matter how much he tried. After several
unsuccessful attempts, one of the soldiers gave him a helper and then told
them to stop working. Next, they had to carry chests of ammunition. It was
also awfully tiring work. But that was not the worst. For the work proceeded
with an incessant accompaniment of shouting, abuse, curses, and, making
matters worse, blows and whippings. My father was also severely beaten up, as
he could not cope with the crates. He was beaten up and pushed to move a little
faster. An officer gave commands from an open window on the first floor
[. . .] they tried to run as fast as possible to avoid blows. [43] Unfortunately, my
1250 Probably a reference to the prison building at Rakowiecka Street 37.
