The insurgent accounts of witness
My war 1939-1945
Many times we did stupid things with kids - it can be said now but then? I was a part of that rather numerous pack- six-year-olds, seven-year-olds from the region of Mlynarska near Zytnia. There is a natural competition in the pack. The same was with us, but we didn't compete for the leadership, but for a stunt that would gain the recognition of the company.
We had our own, street "Paper Guinness". Events were different: - the highest peeing - the longest peeing - the same about spitting - a race on stairs to the last - who would keep the longest head in the barrel with water (fire-fighting)-shooting with the entrails of hairy caterpillars by hitting them with a heel- there were many, many ideas...
I had my own "stunts"(painful!). I got myself squeezed into the inside of the tramway system pole that had a spatial, geodetic construction of a grating and-unfortunately - I couldn't get out of it! There were lots of supporters, there happened to be a district policeman (luckily, it was dad's friend) who took up the leadership, as slitting of that thick metal lasted after the curfew.
I got to the inside of such a pole and it was necessary to cut it.
Some of such poles could still be seen at Obozowa Street.
For some days Grandmother put a small pillow on the chair for me...
Sometimes we acted even cruelly not realizing that this we did was awful! When the Jewish got marked with David's Star we ran after them screaming: Jude! Jude!
Up to this day I haven't known how it was possible as some time later on, we put food for Jewish children through the hole done in the cemetery wall at the end of Mlynarska Street.
Our children's plays gradually lost the character of antics for the sake of antics, as "bad" entered in our life, and he was to be hammered. And who was the BAD - it's obvious: DEVIL! Devil that under the uniform of a German soldier hid his horns, hooves, a tail and everything what's bad in the world! Sometimes, but it belonged to exceptions, the devil wasn't so devilish, and he could even speak human language...
We tried our hands at war very often. As nobody wanted to be a German, we were looking for original rivals. We couldn't shoot at them, but we "dazzled" them with words. Usually we did it in the region of Weitknecht's pub, where Germans dropped in for schnapps. We ran to them - so as to "mislead the rival," we put up the hand in a Nazi greeting and then we hurled at them an offensive epithet. Its content depended on the individual talents for expressing our unfriendly feelings, and on the willingness to demonstrate to the pack a poetic art of using the most offensive and the crudest words.
"Sir Captain, eat some turd for breakfast!"
"Sir Comrade, you've got mucky pants!"
"Sir Officer, you are a creep!"
"Hi! I'll give you some shit to eat!"
Once I ran up to a soldier I waved my little hand and recited gladly:
"- Sir Officer, feathers are spilling from your asshole!"
The German unexpectedly stopped and to my surprise he said [in a pure Silesian dialect]:
- You clever, devilish boy! If you keep on talking like that then feathers will spill from your asshole! (and he wasn't mistaken here). He wagged his finger at me and went away.
We were observed by a landlady (the owner of a house where we lived) going out from the drugstore near Weitknecht's pub. The landlady yelled at me and as it was easy to guess she told about it to my Grandfather.
Grandmother in her customary manner, for some days, put a small pillow on the chair...
in our times
drawn up by: Maciej Janaszek-Seydlitz
translation: Małgorzata Szyszkowska
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