settlement, declared war on Germany, and a few hours later France followed suit.
A tremendous wave of relief and joy surged through Poland.Now the great armies of the West would teach Hitler a lesson. Most people believed that Western arms superiority was so overwhelming that for all practical purposes the contest would be over before it had properly got started. Hitler had bluffed and lost. We expected to see him on his knees any day now, suing for peace.
But amidst our rejoicing, news from the front continued to be ominous. Polish communiqués were vague and confusing, but it was clear that the Germans were advancing rapidly, and shortwave radio from the West seemed to confirm German claims of victory. We began hearing horror stories of German Stukas attacking peaceful towns and strafing civilians, singling out the columns of refugees that were beginning to jam the roads. Our euphoria over the entry of the Western powers into the war soon gave way to the immediate problem of what to do in the face of the approaching Germans.
German planes began to appear in the skies over Hrubieszów, often flying so low that we could see the black crosses on their wings. For several days that was all they did; at first we ran for cover, but after a few overflights without incident, we assumed that we were safe, especially since there was neither industry nor Polish army units, at that time, in Hrubieszów.
On September 7 or 8 I was walking through a field about half a mile from home when I noticed a single plane flying toward me. I assumed it was German because by then the Polish air force had virtually ceased to exist, but I didnât run for cover because there was only one other person anywhere in sight, and surely the two of us didnât present enough of a target for the pilot to bother with. Suddenly I saw the Stuka go into a dive, with a horrifying, ear-splitting shriek. I threw myself on the ground as the
rat-tat-tat
of bullets tore through the air. My heart was pounding wildly. As the sound of the plane faded in the distance, I stayed frozen on the ground for several minutes, afraid it might return. On reaching home, I learnedthat the same plane had made several other strafing runs over Hrubieszów. Fortunately, only a few people had sustained any injuries, and all of them were slight.
Refugees fleeing the oncoming Germans began to appear on the roads leading south and east through Hrubieszów. A few drove cars, some had horse-drawn wagons, others walked. The wagons had obviously been loaded in a hurry; piles of mattresses, trunks, loose clothing, boxes, umbrellas, even pieces of furniture were all heaped on every which way. The wagons were so overloaded that there was no room for anyone to ride on them; even the driver walked alongside, holding the reins. Only small children occasionally sat on top of the piles of family belongings. Those who had no transportation either for themselves or their possessions walked, carrying large packs on their backs. From time to time we saw Polish soldiers, some in groups, others singly, many without weapons, walking dejectedly along with the civilian refugees. Once or twice high-ranking officers drove by, but even they had lost all their usual dash and bravura.
On September 10, 11, and 12 the stream of refugees rose steadily, the most-traveled roads becoming flooding rivers of humanity. People pushed and shoved, cursing the owners of wagons that had got stuck in the mud and were blocking the road. Children were crying, and often people knocked on our door asking for food.
What were we to do? All of us were at home, except for Fred, who was in Warsaw. We had to decide whether we should join the masses fleeing the Germans or stay where we were. There were arguments for either alternative, and we spent many frantic hours weighing the pros and cons. On the one hand, we all knew that as Jews we were in great danger. We had the example of Hitlerâs treatment of the German Jews
A tremendous wave of relief and joy surged through Poland.Now the great armies of the West would teach Hitler a lesson. Most people believed that Western arms superiority was so overwhelming that for all practical purposes the contest would be over before it had properly got started. Hitler had bluffed and lost. We expected to see him on his knees any day now, suing for peace.
But amidst our rejoicing, news from the front continued to be ominous. Polish communiqués were vague and confusing, but it was clear that the Germans were advancing rapidly, and shortwave radio from the West seemed to confirm German claims of victory. We began hearing horror stories of German Stukas attacking peaceful towns and strafing civilians, singling out the columns of refugees that were beginning to jam the roads. Our euphoria over the entry of the Western powers into the war soon gave way to the immediate problem of what to do in the face of the approaching Germans.
German planes began to appear in the skies over Hrubieszów, often flying so low that we could see the black crosses on their wings. For several days that was all they did; at first we ran for cover, but after a few overflights without incident, we assumed that we were safe, especially since there was neither industry nor Polish army units, at that time, in Hrubieszów.
On September 7 or 8 I was walking through a field about half a mile from home when I noticed a single plane flying toward me. I assumed it was German because by then the Polish air force had virtually ceased to exist, but I didnât run for cover because there was only one other person anywhere in sight, and surely the two of us didnât present enough of a target for the pilot to bother with. Suddenly I saw the Stuka go into a dive, with a horrifying, ear-splitting shriek. I threw myself on the ground as the
rat-tat-tat
of bullets tore through the air. My heart was pounding wildly. As the sound of the plane faded in the distance, I stayed frozen on the ground for several minutes, afraid it might return. On reaching home, I learnedthat the same plane had made several other strafing runs over Hrubieszów. Fortunately, only a few people had sustained any injuries, and all of them were slight.
Refugees fleeing the oncoming Germans began to appear on the roads leading south and east through Hrubieszów. A few drove cars, some had horse-drawn wagons, others walked. The wagons had obviously been loaded in a hurry; piles of mattresses, trunks, loose clothing, boxes, umbrellas, even pieces of furniture were all heaped on every which way. The wagons were so overloaded that there was no room for anyone to ride on them; even the driver walked alongside, holding the reins. Only small children occasionally sat on top of the piles of family belongings. Those who had no transportation either for themselves or their possessions walked, carrying large packs on their backs. From time to time we saw Polish soldiers, some in groups, others singly, many without weapons, walking dejectedly along with the civilian refugees. Once or twice high-ranking officers drove by, but even they had lost all their usual dash and bravura.
On September 10, 11, and 12 the stream of refugees rose steadily, the most-traveled roads becoming flooding rivers of humanity. People pushed and shoved, cursing the owners of wagons that had got stuck in the mud and were blocking the road. Children were crying, and often people knocked on our door asking for food.
What were we to do? All of us were at home, except for Fred, who was in Warsaw. We had to decide whether we should join the masses fleeing the Germans or stay where we were. There were arguments for either alternative, and we spent many frantic hours weighing the pros and cons. On the one hand, we all knew that as Jews we were in great danger. We had the example of Hitlerâs treatment of the German Jews
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