Witness Fritz Kretschmer, labourer, of Alt-Boyen, deposed on oath as follows:

... I myself witnessed the death of Freiherr von Gersdorff. Herr von Gersdorff had lingered behind. He gabbled in delirium out of sheer exhaustion. When soldiers struck at him to induce him to walk faster, he grabbed at a soldier's bayonet to avoid the thrust. He was pushed into the ditch, and then the report of a shot was heard. Herr von Gersdorff collapsed and died. This occurrence took place while the old man wished to drink some water at an old well during a very short halt.

... If I am asked whether the village in question was Tarnowo, I cannot be sure. I do know that the village lies in the district of Turek and on the highway to Kutno in the region of K[r]osniewice. There we met a few of our comrades of Alt-Boyen. Later on, Herr Gernoth my master, the owner of the Kuschen estate, and some one unknown to me collapsed. They remained behind and we heard three shots. I never saw these three comrades again and I suppose they were shot. I, too, received a bullet in the knee when I reeled out of the ranks (left knee). I walked for another four days with this wound until we arrived at K[r]osniewice, where I remained lying for a day. I succeeded in escaping the next day.

Witness Kuhnert, farmer, of Alt-Boyen, deposed on oath as follows:

... At Peisern, where, in the meantime, we had arrived, we were fettered together in the night in groups of six. The reason was a slight one, for in his sleep one of us, filled with fear, had called out: "Halt! They are coming!" The result was an awful uproar. We were beaten and fettered. Two men who had been outside to relieve themselves never returned. I have never seen them again and they were doubtless killed. The names of the men in question I cannot give. And so we finally arrived in the vicinity of Turek, at a village whose name I don't know. In the row ahead of us was old Baron von Gersdorff, who, due to the undergone hardships, had already begun to rave. He was being borne along by a man unknown to me and by a farmer named Alfred Schulz of Alt-Boyen. Herr von Gersdorff fell behind; the men who had been bearing him along had to leave him and a little later I heard the crack of a rifle. Persons in mufti were standing around; we, however, were not allowed near. Veterinary surgeon Bambauer of Schmiegel also witnessed the occurrence and reported the details.

We were allowed to drink out of a dirty, stinking pool [roadside puddle], but we were so parched that we greedily rushed at it. On the market place of the village whose name is unknown to me the police left us for an hour at the mercy of the populace, who took advantage of the occasion to strike and throw stones at us. I myself was a witness of one of our comrades collapsing dead, hit by a heavy stone.

Witness Max Hofmann of Schokken, in the district of Wongrowitz, deposed on oath as follows:

... I myself, for example, saw how a woman of the Bromberg group, no longer able to walk and already mentally disturbed, was beaten to death by a guard with the butt of his rifle. Also the war invalid Ernst Kiok of Jaroschau near Wongrowitz, a man of about 70, who for long had not been able to walk and lay on a waggon, was dragged off the waggon by the escort, thrown into the ditch and there beaten to death by blows from rifle butts. On our way to Lowitsch there were numerous dead bodies of interned Germans lying to the right and left of the road as well as on the road itself, so that we almost stumbled over them. It was an incredible martyrdom on the road to Lowitsch. The military passing us on the road also participated in the maltreatment, etc.

Witness Bruno Rauhudt, farmer in Kaczanowo, district of Wreschen, deposed on oath as follows:

[...]

... And so at last, after many halts, we arrived at Klodawa via Konin... At nightfall, it was already completely dark, the following occurrence took place:

... Behind the column, at about a distance of 100 yards, stood a locomotive. This was set in motion so that it ran into the rear waggons. I was not in the last waggon, which was smashed to bits and derailed. The engine then ran on into the last waggon but one so violently that it mounted it and then fell down, crushing the rear part. A number of Germans were thereby killed and many seriously or slightly injured. Among the dead were farmer Pieper of Guriczki, farmer Mühlheim of Wilhelmsau, farmer Mikos of Biechowo, farmer Grawunder of Sendschau, and others. I heard that 15 to 20 Germans thus lost their lives. The bodies were hurriedly buried immediately in the neighbourhood of the railway station.

We survivors were herded together, the injured also being brought to us. We were finally penned together in one car. The train continued on its way. At daybreak, we found that two of the seriously wounded had died in the meantime. I should like to emphasize that the injured were not even bandaged by the ambulance staff. The two bodies were hurriedly buried immediately alongside the railway line by fellow Germans who were called upon to do so by the Poles. Towards evening the seriously injured were loaded on to a lime waggon. After having spent three days on this waggon, the seriously injured at last succeeded in being transported to a field hospital. After things had become so serious, we others, in the meantime, had been unloaded from the now-open railway car and led on foot in an easterly direction. The greater number of compatriots were barefooted, just as they had left the car.

Although in this locomotive incident also a policeman and another were killed, there is no doubt in my mind that the locomotive was run against our two cars intentionally in order to cause mischief among [harm to] us Germans. This is clearly proved by the threats uttered by the Polish railwaymen as mentioned previously.

Personal narrative by Wilhelm Romann, manager, from Wongrowitz.

On Sept. 22, 1939, Wilhelm Romann deposed on oath as follows:

On Friday, Sept. 1, 1939, by virtue of a red slip of paper signed by the mayor, I was arrested by a policeman and an auxiliary policeman at about 4 p.m. and taken to the police station. There I asked police commandant Nowak what was to happen to me. He was, however, unable to give me any information. The name of the mayor of Wongrowitz was Zenkteller. I had got on well with authorities in Wongrowitz, and with the officials, but nevertheless they had managed to put me on the black list. From the police station I was removed to the gaol, where the German teacher Heuchel and I were put into two indescribably dirty cells. We were able to communicate with one another through the wall. In order to get a little fresh air, I first of all smashed in the windows.

On the following day, Sept. 2, 1939, the town was bombarded. The same evening I and the other internees, who had since been brought in (there were about 52 of us), were let out of the cells and set in march to Elsenau under police escort. The war invalid Kiok, a man of 65 with a wooden leg, was allowed to ride in the car. At Elsenau we were loaded on to a local train after each of us had paid four Zlotys. During the night, we remained at the railway station locked into the local train without being allowed to open the windows. We repeatedly heard the railwaymen of the train saying that it would be best to shoot us down. The next morning the train was set in motion to Gnesen. There it stood in the station throughout Sunday, and we were not allowed to leave it. Stones and bottles were frequently thrown into the compartments, in which railwaymen also participated. On Sunday evening, the train continued in the direction of Thorn. At the latter station our train was again bombarded with stones, soldiers and railwaymen again taking part. They were principally after me. I was called the fat organiser of Wongrowitz. I should add that at Gnesen we were transferred to cattle trucks, 52 persons to a truck. The ventilators were nailed up and the doors locked. At one time we were obliged to hold out for six to seven hours without the admittance of fresh air and without water. Between Thorn and Wloclawek our train, which in the meantime had increased to 20 waggons, stopped on the line because the stretch had obviously been put out of operation by air attacks. After about a day and a half, the journey continued in the direction of Wloclawek. There we left the train and our group of 52 men was led through the town three times, and repeatedly beaten. Aubert, for example, had the bridge of his nose smashed with a bicycle-pump. Pastor Rakette was hit in the face with a hard object so that he was covered with blood. Kiok the war invalid, who had almost become insane, was knocked down.

A long column of internees stretched along the road from Wloclawek to Kutno. Ahead of us walked a column of internees from Argenau, which had a much larger escort than we had; we had only six policemen allotted to us. All of us without exception received blows on the march to Kutno. On the road itself we saw many bloodstains which must have come from maltreated or shot internees [who had been] led along the road ahead of us. At Wloclawek an internee had received a bullet in the chest from a pistol. He told me this when, on the way to Chodtz, I was allowed to sit on a waggon for about a mile, where I found him lying. After this short ride I received violent blows with a baton from a police sergeant and was driven off the waggon with the words: "You fat dog, you can walk." The police sergeant himself then sat on the waggon and ordered me to hold on and follow. But soon the speed of the waggon increased to a trot, and I had to run. If I did not keep up I was beaten by a policeman who was riding a bicycle. I had endeavoured to ride on the waggon because I had become absolutely footsore and was also very sore between the legs.

No shooting or other murders occurred in our group as far as Chodtz, but during the night march we were often badly ill-used. Kiok had a brick thrown at his head, whereupon he fell to the ground and remained lying. He was, however, picked up by the group following ours and led up to us. At about 1 o'clock at night we arrived at Chodtz and had to remain lying out in the open until morning. On the following day, the roll was called and we were placed in a shed of the local sugar mill. We here met a group of about 30 internees from Hohensalza, as well as some from Bromberg. Before we were marched off we were divided up into groups of a thousand each. Later I heard from the army captain in charge of our group that there were not quite 6,000 internees marched off from Chodtz. I was in the third group. On the way there was wild shooting at those who tried to escape or reeled out of the ranks or fell and were unable to continue. As far as Kutno I did not see anyone shot with my own eyes because it was night. But when anybody strayed behind and fell we soon heard a shot, from which we concluded that he had been finished off by a bullet. We arrived at Kutno the next morning, where we rested and, for the first time, received a scanty meal. One loaf of bread had to do for 16 men. I should remark that, during the day, we had been accompanied by German planes which were evidently observing our fate.

When we passed Polish troops they struck at us with spades; in one of the groups behind us they shot with machine guns, once 50 to 60 shots being fired in succession.

Just before reaching Kutno, one of our number who was walking on a field alongside the road ran into the arms of some Polish troops. I saw two soldiers strike him with the butts of their rifles until he was dead. In another case a man's head was literally trampled under foot by Polish soldiers. Behind Kutno I saw an internee lying dead on the road; he had been beaten to death by rifle butt blows. From what I heard he had asked for some water, and his murder was the reply. Polish soldiers repeatedly advised our escort to kill us off as we were going to be shot anyway. I further saw a policeman using his baton on a woman carrying a child on her arm. Later on, I found her lying on the road face downwards. In my opinion she was dead.

The march from Kutno to Lowitsch had to be done without a halt, that is 40 to 45 miles. It was a special forced march because German troops were approaching our column. At Lowitsch our group was led to a place encircled by barbed wire. The Polish military fired at this place with machine guns. On this occasion a certain Franke of Deutschfeld near Schokken received three bullets, tried to rise, and was dead. I passed by and managed to close his eyes. In the meantime a group of soldiers approached, whom we took for Germans. First there were 2, later 12. As soon as we were certain they were German soldiers we ran towards them, the Polish machine gun fire still being directed on us. After a German machine gun had engaged the Polish machine gun the latter was silent. After our release I saw numerous internees being carried together. They were loaded onto a motor truck.

The Rogasen group had a worse time than even we had. Barber Seehagel of Rogasen could give detailed information about this. He now lives at Bukowitz, which is 5 miles from Wongrowitz. Polish military fired into the ranks of this group when German tanks approached. I was able to convince myself that he had a bullet wound in the shoulder. Further information of this group can be given by the merchant Thonn and the manufacturer Schütz of Rogasen. These two still reside at Rogasen.

In conclusion I would remark that all of us were completely broken in spirit so that we wanted to commit suicide. In my opinion, about 20 to 25 percent went mad, but many recovered their senses, especially after the release by German troops. I saw the former senator Dr. Busse completely broken down, and he is still in hospital at Lodz. The wife of an estate manager from the Argenau region lay insane in the Lowitsch hospital. I heard her screaming and shouting. Whether she is still alive I do not know.

Dictated aloud, approved, signed

Personal narrative by veterinary surgeon Dr. Schulz at Lissa

Witness Dr. Schulz, veterinary surgeon [in Lissa], deposed on oath as follows:

In the afternoon of September 1st, the 350 to 400 arrested Germans were led to Storchnest by a provost sergeant-major of the Polish army. Among us was the 82-year-old Prof. Bonin in his underpants and dressing-gown. Besides Prof. Bonin there were the elderly Herr Tiller, a tailor, 82 years of age, and other 70-year-old men in the column. There were also women among us. They had not even spared children. The march to Storchnest was comparatively bearable, also that which followed to Schrimm. At Storchnest, butcher Gaumer, elektrician Weigt, teacher Jäschke, fitter Häusler, forwarding agent Weigt, brushmaker Senf, tailors Tiller (father and son), sculptor Bissing and photographer Juretzky, from whose houses shots had allegedly been fired, were called out of the ranks. But of these the following were again released: Weigt (forwarding agent), Tiller (father and son), and Senf. The Tillers (father and son), however, were again singled out at Schrimm. Of the others, the old people, women and children were released but were not able to return to Lissa and were driven to other districts. Those singled out, such as Gaumer, Weigt, and the others were tried by a military court at Schrimm and, on the evidence of Polish citizens of Lissa, shot. Only in the case of the 72-year-old Bissing was the death sentence commuted to a term of imprisonment. To make the situation clearer, I would further mention that the "trustworthy" witnesses attached to the military court, who were called upon to give information about us, were a notorious person of evil reputation in Lissa named Ullrich and a tailor called Trzeczak.

At Schrimm, we were beaten and had stones thrown at us by the Polish mob and military. We were called "rebels" because we were alleged to have shot at the soldiers at Lissa. The escort hardly protected us. From Schrimm the march continued via Santomischel to Schroda. At Santomischel, through which we passed on a Sunday, we were again maltreated and spat upon by the Polish populace and military, so that we refused to enter Schroda with the inadequate escort, because we feared being beaten to death. With the assistance of the extra police that were called we did in fact get through Schroda more or less unmolested, especially as the auxiliary policeman Wendzonka, of Lissa, forced a path through for us with his bayonet. But during the night which we passed at Schroda, every few minutes some of us were called out and bestially maltreated outside by the guard. This maltreatment stopped at midnight only after some Germans from Lissa-Land joined us. I should like to add that at Schroda we were given water to drink out of petrol buckets. We got nothing to eat and were obliged to have bread etc. sent for at our own expense.

From Schroda we continued to Peisern ("Congress" Poland) via Miloslaw. The column of 250 men had to pass the night there in the far-too-small fire station. During the night we heard shots in the room, but no one was hurt. The next morning our watches and other valuables were taken from us. However, through the mediation of the auxiliary policeman Wendzonka, who was otherwise amenable, we got our property back again. From Peisern, the march continued further to Konin and then to Klodawa. Here we passed the afternoon in a fowl yard, where we were also to pass the night. There we received water we only against payment. As the Polish populace molested us by stone-throwing etc., we bribed the Polish sergeant who now had charge of our column to allow us to continue our march instead of spending the night at Klodawa. From Klodawa onwards we marched day and night as they apparently were endeavouring to get us out of the Kutno encirclement. On the Klodawa–Kutno road, in the ditch to the right and left of us, we counted 38 Germans who had been shot or had died from exhaustion, all of whom must have belonged to the marching columns ahead of us.

On Saturday, Sept. 9, 1939 we finally reached the region of Lowitsch. This locality was at the time being bombarded by German planes and shells. Our escort, therefore, led us about 4 miles across the fields in a northerly direction. On the way, two more were shot – one because he did not leave the waggon quickly enough, the other because it was alleged he had wished to escape. I should remark here that there were two farm waggons in our column on which those were to ride who were most exhausted. The escort, nevertheless, tried to prevent this by means of blows from the rifle butt, and shots. We were all of us so exhausted and footsore that we could only have marched another day at the most. On the occasion of a short midday rest in a village the majority of the escort left us...

It was at this village that our release took place through German armoured cars. Our joy at our rescue was indescribable.

Gnesen, Sept. 21, 1939

Investigation Dept. for
Breaches of International Law
with the Supreme Command of the German Forces.

Present:
Hurtig, Judge Advocate,
Pitsch, Military Inspector of Justice.

Pastor August Rauhut of Gnesen appeared and declared on interrogation:

Re. person: My name is August Rauhut, born on Sept. 21, 1888 at Dambitsch, in the district of Lissa, minister of the German Catholic church in Gnesen, former headmaster of the German private grammar school [high school], deputy chairman of the German Catholic Association in Poland, resident at 1a Poststrasse, Gnesen.

Re. matter: With my party of expelled minority Germans, accompanied by two policemen, I was on the road from Wreschen to Stralkowo. On the way we saw Polish troops stationed at the edge of the wood, and as they saw us passing by they threatened to shoot us, particularly me as minister. But, accompanied by the two policemen, we nevertheless reached Stralkowo. Just before Stralkowo the two policemen obtained three military lorries for the rest of the journey, for which we had to pay heavily. We were supposed to go to Kossow in the Province of Polesie (Pinsk district).

After wandering about for several days in the fields and woods between Stralkowo and Powitz, our party of 42 decided to send 3 men to Powitz; this was on Sept. 7, 1939. These 3 men were to request the authorities in Powitz to allow us either to stay in Powitz or to return to Gnesen. The men's names were:

1. Ernst Wiedemeyer of Gnesen, merchant,
2. Farmer Derwanz of Przybrodzin, District of Gnesen,
3. Myself, August Rauhut.

We reached Przybrodzin at eleven o'clock and received personal identification papers from the temporary authorities, and permission for us to settle in Przybrodzin. While these formalities were being completed Herr Wiedemeyer and I saw our third companion, Herr Derwanz, together with my former pupil, Lyk, being taken away by the military, apparently to be shot. We did not see Herr Derwanz again, but later heard that he was supposed to have been buried naked in the Protestant cemetery in Powitz. Derwanz was later found and recognised when persons known to me were opening and examining various graves.

At 2.30 a.m. Wiedemeyer and I, with our personal identification papers, and having the permission of the authorities, were returning to our party which was in the wood 2 miles away, in order to bring them into the town. Just before we reached them we were overtaken by a noisy band of armed youths, and were taken back by force and threats of death of all sorts, since they said: "You must go back, your identification papers are no longer valid, you will be shot." They wanted to carry out this threat of death several times on the way. We had to keep apart and were ordered not to speak; Wiedemeyer whispered to me: "If you get away with your life, give my love to my wife and children." When we reached the town, the public attitude to us became very threatening and we were frequently insulted and abused, particularly myself. At 4.30 a.m. we arrived at the commissariat, where the commissar, a Polish landed proprietor, made several grievous [aggrieved, regretful] remarks on the shooting of Derwanz, which act he actually condemned. We sat for about two hours in the waiting room and were again asked for our identification papers, which were shortly after returned to us, whereupon we were taken away to be shot by 3 shabbily uniformed Polish soldiers, amongst whom was a lame invalid, who was armed and who showed his brutality to me particularly. Wiedemeyer remained behind. When I was in the corridor I was called back to the conference room, where there were a number of youths, amongst them also an elderly chairman of the so-called shooting [execution] commission. He accused me of being a gang leader in possession of a short-wave wireless set. When I refuted all this, he said that religious [intellectual] work with short-wave wireless sets was "a very bad stain on my character". I realised that my fate was sealed.

Then I remembered that my ecclesiastical superiors had given me a letter of recommendation to my Bishop in Polesie. I produced this and they were surprised. Meanwhile the local clergyman entered the conference room and said: "I have no authority over him, transfer him to Gnesen to the deacon, Zableki, who was at the head of the civil council of Gnesen." I then had to leave the conference room and return to the waiting room. Wiedemeyer was no longer there, and I knew what had happened to him. I suspected at all events that he had been shot in the meantime, because the same fate was to be allotted to me. Shortly afterwards the local clergyman called for me and explained that he had assumed full responsibility for me, and that I must spend the night at the presbytery and would be handed over to my superiors in Gnesen on the following day (Friday Sept. 8, 1939), which actually took place. For my own safety as a priest I was accompanied by another priest who happened to be staying in Powitz, and the local chairman of the civil council. We reached Gnesen despite many reproaches and insults levelled at me on the way. The civil council decided, for my own safety, to put me in the "Hospital of the Grey Sisters," and I stayed there until 11.30 a.m. on Monday September 11, 1939, when the German army marched in and I was freed by a German captain.

I would point out that on the journey from Powitz to Gnesen, accusations were continually made that I had a short-wave set in the stove or stoves in my home, and because of this I had an investigation made by the chairman of the Civil Committee as to the lack of foundation for these accusations.

Thereupon he said to me: "Let me tell you that Mr. Wiedemeyer is no longer alive." He asked me not to say anything. On Thursday, Sept. 14, 1939, the new graves in the cemetery in Powitz were opened by civilians, who had been sent by the town of Gnesen, and the bodies of Derwanz as well as of Wiedemeyer were found. Wiedemeyer's body was particularly mutilated and showed, in particular, bloody wounds on the throat.

Both men were murdered by the Polish military.

In addition to these two men, six more people from the neighbourhood of Gnesen were bestially murdered near their homes by armed civilians. Amongst them were Kropf, and his son-in-law Brettschneider. One of the victims had had his stomach cut open and his head crushed. In Gnesen these deeds were talked of with disgust, even amongst the Poles.

In my opinion these civilians were armed by the authorities. This took place during my absence from Gnesen.

Concerning the state of the dead, the grave-digger of the Protestant cemetery was able to give information, but I cannot remember his name at the moment. The expulsion order was handed to me on September 1, 1939, by the district administrator, and I left Gnesen on September 3, 1939.

Dictated, approved and signed.

The witness Ewald Tonn, business man and inn-keeper of Rogasen in the district of Obornik, deposed the following on oath:

About 4½ miles from Gnesen our deformed comrade Puder stepped out of the marching column because he was completely exhausted. He was immediately beaten on the chest with rifle butts and was left behind. Since I wanted to look after him, I wound my way to the rear of the column and saw him lying on a waggon in the agonies of death. He died shortly afterwards.

On oath, the 70-year-old witness Emil Lange, farmer in Slonsk, deposed the following:

... The march¹ was very difficult for me, a man of seventy years; my feet were covered with blood, the nails had to be torn off my toes, and it was only with the help of my son and one of my neighbours that I was able to last out the march. We were urged to inhuman efforts, particularly by the knowledge that we would be murdered if we fell behind. On the way my son was struck heavily in the back by the rifle butt of a Polish soldier. The power of the blow was lessened by a bag which he was carrying on his back.

The witness, Szczepan Siedlecki, grocer in Michelin, deposed the following on oath:

On the first Wednesday in September of this year, I saw about 150 minority Germans who, being marched off by Polish policemen, passed my shop window in the direction of Kutno. An old minority German of about 80 years of age could go no farther, and was struck with rifle butts by policemen, so that he broke down completely and was left lying in the street. Some civilians standing nearby were told by two Polish policemen to finish him off, and I saw two men, strangers to me, go through the old man's pockets, after which they struck him with a stone and kicked him with their feet...

The witness, Kurt Seehagel, barber in Rogasen, at the time of writing resident at Bukowice, deposed the following on oath (Seehagel served in the Polish infantry from 16.4.31 to 16.3.33):

On Sept. 1, 1939, I was arrested in Rogasen together with 20 to 25 other inhabitants and marched with about 700 minority Germans to internment in Warsaw, via Kutno [and] Lowitsch.

Between Kutno and Lowitsch our party made a halt in a public park. Our escorts, who were Polish reservists doing military police service, and some Polish soldiers, who were standing nearby, commenced indiscriminately shooting at us, and some of us were not only wounded but killed. Before we marched into the public park there was a Polish officer standing at the entrance, who was in charge of the Polish troops in the neighbourhood. He asked our escort who we were. When they replied that we were Germans and had called Hitler to Poland – the escort's actual words were somewhat as follows: "These are the swine who called for Hitler" – the Polish officer drew his revolver, and shouting out that he would like to kill one of "them", fired at a German-born comrade who was marching in front of me. Shot right through the temple, he lay dead, and I had to step over his body, whilst the Polish officer behind me again shot at us, but I could not tell whether he murdered another comrade, since it was forbidden to look round.

On the way the escort indiscriminately pulled my comrades out of the column and murdered them in one way or another, either by shooting or by beating them with rifle butts. In the night, as we were between Lowitsch and Warsaw, three of our escort drew me out of our party and kept me behind with them with the intention of murdering me. Whilst one held my arms, the other two struck me with the butts of their rifles, but I managed to pull myself free, and to escape. They fired after me, and shot me through the shoulder so that I fell down. I heard them shout out that I was finished, but I managed to run on and hide until I saw some German troops. After washing myself, changing into a clean shirt that they gave me, and having my wound bound by German first-aid men, I went with some other rescued comrades a short way back along the route along which our party had previously marched, and we saw a large number of the bodies of our comrades on the road. Most of them were disgustingly mutilated and their faces unrecognizable. In my opinion they were beaten to death by rifle butts.

Report of an actual personal experience by Dr. Schubert, farmer.

Dr. Albrecht Schubert, farmer in Grune near Lissa, deposed the following on oath:

On Sept. 2, 1939, I was arrested in my home without being given any reason, and was taken away with threats of death. In Griewen a sergeant of the 17th Polish Lancers, stationed in Lissa, robbed us of our personal belongings, and the guards – Polish regular soldiers – also stole some of the prisoners' money. We were all driven on foot from Griewen to Lowitsch, about 150 miles practically without food or shelter. Once, each prisoner received half a loaf of bread, and then only because I bribed the sergeant with 100 Zloty, and paid him 30 Zloty more each day, collected from the prisoners. We suffered terribly from hunger and thirst and those who took a swede [turnip] from the fields were beaten with rifle butts so that they collapsed.

The German-born civilian prisoners were made up of people from 14 to 76 years of age, including women. No prisoner was equal to the strain of the march, which was carried through without food, mainly without shelter and in absolutely insufficient clothing. The people were arrested just as they were clothed at the time, most of them in their shirts and trousers, some in clogs, others with only one shoe on; they were not even given time to dress themselves properly. Most of those who became ill during the march and could go no further, were finished off by shooting or beating. I did not personally see the shooting or beating because it mostly happened at night, and because we were not allowed to look backwards, nevertheless I frequently heard the noise of heavy blows, cries, and shots, and those prisoners who were taken out of the column did not return to us. On our route I saw at least six [156] dead – minority Germans – who had been beaten to death or shot by troops marching in advance of us.

In Schroda the prisoners from Lissa were unbelievably ill-treated, thrashed and beaten with rifle butts by their escort, men of the 17th Polish lancers. Master-tailor Schulz was pulled out of the column four consecutive times and so maltreated that he had many bad head wounds.

In Peisan where, as an exception, we were sheltered in a room, penned in without straw, Semenjuk, a teacher from Lissa, went mad through the maltreatment and harassment that he had suffered, and started screaming; this immediately caused the guard to start shooting into our room. Only the presence of mind of the prisoners avoided a massacre. Our escort let the mob into our lodging, and the prisoners were robbed of their possessions, watches, rings and money, and what was left over [primarily money, watches and rings] was stolen by an N.C.O. of the 17th Lancers, who came the next morning.

I personally suffered severe maltreatment through being beaten with rifle butts, and am only alive today because the soldier who shot at me, missed me; the bullet went right past my head. All this took place only because I tried to help an old man of 70 who had collapsed on to a waggon. I, and all of my fellow-prisoners who survived, are of the firm conviction that during the march numerous minority Germans were slain or shot, but because of the darkness of the night we could only see some of them. During the whole march we were most severely beaten with rifle butts and whips, not only by our escort, who belonged to the 17th Lancers, but also by nearly all of the retreating Polish troops that we met. Between Kolo and Klodawa, a Polish major of a mechanized unit, with disgusting insults and blows of his whip, joined his men in the maltreatment. On the march from Slopa to Lowitsch (90 miles) there was no further rest, not even at night; we made only short halts necessitated by the road being blocked up.

The organist Wiener, of Griewen, collapsed after 15 miles, because his artificial leg broke and he could not carry on. I carried him, my comrade in captivity, for 10 miles since I did not want to leave him behind to be probably slain. Because I carried him I was badly beaten with rifle butts.

A man from Lissa, whose name I will find out later, had to march on past Lowitsch with a shot in his testicles; his scrotum was completely filled with blood, and he endured unspeakable pain.

Report of the experience of Pastor Rakette of Schokken.

On October 9, 1939, the witness Paul Rakette deposed the following on oath:

Since January 1938, I have been minister to the parish of Schokken.

On Sept. 1, 1939, I was arrested with about 30 parishioners and locked up in the police prison of Schokken. I was put in a cell meant for one man, but for a night 10 other of my compatriots were kept there as well. On the next day we were taken in cars to Wongrowitz, where we were also locked up in the prison. Here we experienced the bombing by German aeroplanes of the railway station and other important buildings. At eight o'clock in the evening we were marched off to Elsenau, and at 11 p.m. entered the railway station, where we were put into railway carriages and taken to Gnesen. Whilst the train was still in the station we experienced the second German air raid there, and during the course of the day, a Sunday, there were several more bombing attacks. I had the impression that the train was deliberately left standing there; fortunately none of us were injured.

After we had waited during the whole of the Sunday and the night from Sunday to Monday, penned up in the carriage in the station, we were transferred to cattle trucks. Together with 52 other parishioners and comrades from Wongrowitz, I was put into a cattle truck. For several hours we were left in these cattle trucks practically without fresh air, and a man named Kiok, a war invalid and estate owner from a neighbouring parish, became delirious and began to rave. Early on Monday our goods train started off in the direction of Thorn, and during the journey, as well as in Thorn itself, we again experienced bombing attacks on the railway line and on the station at Thorn. On the way from Thorn to Wloclawek our train had to stop for several hours before the line was repaired, probably on account of hits by bombs. Because our truck was nailed up and it was difficult for us to breathe – at the commencement of every bombing attack our escort hid themselves in the fields or woods – I shouted out during a halt on the open track, and despite threats, with rifles at the ready, by a sergeant-major of the State police, succeeded in being allowed to leave the truck and get two buckets of water.

In Thorn, and on the journey to Wloclawek, besides being disgustingly abused, we continually had bottles and other things thrown at us, also by Polish railwaymen. Maltreatment also took place on many occasions. Kiok, whom I mentioned before, was mentally deranged, and a Polish policeman struck him wildly with his rubber truncheon. A bottle exploded in our waggon, which considerably demoralised the occupants. In Wloclawek we were taken out of the train. Apparently without reason, nevertheless in my opinion deliberately and wilfully, we were first of all made to march through the town, where we were stoned and struck by cudgels, etc. I, for example, received two blows in the face from the butt of an army revolver. One blow broke the bridge of my nose, as a doctor later ascertained. Finally we were led into a sugar mill, a collecting centre for all groups of internees. We remained there for two nights and a day, some of us in the yard and some in the rooms of the sugar mill. The number of internees had in the meantime grown to 7,000 men, women, and children.

On Thursday, Sept. 7, 1939, the forced marches in the direction of Kutno and Lowitsch began, and for 26 hours, practically without a break, we kept on to just past Kutno, where we rested for six hours in a meadow. On the march I personally saw how those of my countrymen who had become weak, were left lying exhausted by the wayside, and how at the order of a Polish sergeant they were shot like dogs. According to what I experienced and saw, this happened in about 30 cases, until we were rescued by our troops.

After a rest near Kutno we kept on for 16 hours in a practically unbroken march to Lowitsch. Now and then we met bodies of Polish troops, and as we passed by, they insulted us disgustingly. It was not seldom that I heard wild shooting behind me, and I am not wrong in assuming that this was done by Polish lawless soldiery who fired into groups following us. Shortly before reaching Lowitsch we came upon an advance guard of German troops, which took the Poles by surprise. Our Polish escort tried to drive us in a certain direction in order to get out of what was, for them, a danger zone. They were successful in doing this with about 800 internees. We others, however, lay still in the meadow where we had halted, and awaited further events. Then Polish troops shot into our groups, which were lying down, whereby another parishioner of Revier, named Franke, was fatally hit. After the German troops had won ground our hour of relief came at last. The German army at Lowitsch sent us in waggons to Lodsch, and from there we went in lorries to the nearest railway station at Kempen. We then went home by rail via Breslau and Schneidemühl. I, personally, went via Lissa, where I used to live.

I would not like to leave unmentioned that on these enforced marches, people in despair ran out of the marching column and were then shot down like driven hares. One case I remember particularly. One of these comrades had run out of the marching column, and was driven by shots from the guards into a hollow. At that moment some Polish soldiers swarmed down a rising, and as they reached him did not shoot him dead, but kicked him with their nailed boots. I could only see him get up once more, whereupon he was struck with rifle-butts until he sank down, dead. Even then they stabbed at him with bayonets. The brutality of the Polish soldiers and police was too bestial...

The Polish Atrocities
Against the German Minority in Poland.
Edited and published by order of the Foreign Office
and based upon documentary evidence.
Compiled by Hans Schadewaldt.