Howard Fertig - How the Civilian Population Was Murdered pt. 1 lyrics

Record No. 95 On August 5, 1944, I was sitting in the cellar of No. 4, Staszica Str. with other inhabitants of the house, when suddenly the Germans broke in and drove us out, at the same time grabbing the things we had with us. The women were separated from the men and driven in the direction of Dzialdowska Str. I was led out with a group of men to the yard of No. 15, Staszica Street. Several hundred men had been driven into this yard. The Germans began to fire machine guns at the crowd. I had withdrawn to the rear, so that before the first rows had fallen, I succeeded in lying down and concealing myself. The shots did not reach me. After some time I crawled out from under a heap of corpses. When, after some time, a German officer arrived, he did not give the order to finish those who were still alive, but allowed us to join the people who were being driven along the street. I thus got to Gorczewska Street and from there to Moczydlo. When I was pa**ing No. 26, Staszica Street, I heard shots coming from the yard; an execution was taking place. Record No. 53 I lived in the suburb of Wola, at No. 45, Gorczewska Street. On August 2, 1944, SS-men ordered us to leave and go to the house opposite; our house and the neighbouring ones were then burnt down. We got news on the 3rd that our position was hopeless, and that we were going to be shot. Several hundreds of people were gathered in the house. At 11 a.m. on August 4 the Germans surrounded the house, and ordered us to get out; dreadful cries from the women and children were heard. Some shots were fired at the entrance, and many people were k**ed or wounded. We were driven out into the potato field and ordered to lie down in the furrows. They guarded us closely, so that there was no chance of escape. After some minutes we were ordered to get up. Then they led us under a bridge quite near. There was no doubt about our fate. A woman asked where they were taking us. The answer was: "German women and children are dying owing to you, so you must also die". They regrouped us, separating a group of 70 people, who were sent over the bridge towards a hill. They placed the others (among whom I was) near a wall, amid barbed wire. In different places near us shots were heard: victims of the German persecutors were being executed. We were herded together. I stood on the outskirts of our group, while at a distance of about 5 metres (16 or 17 ft.) from us one of our tormentors quietly made ready to fire a machine-gun, and another took photographs of us, as they wanted to keep a record of the execution. Several were watching us. A volley of shots rang out, followed by cries and groans. I fell wounded and lost consciousness. After a certain time I recovered my senses. I heard them finishing off the wounded I did not move, pretending to be dead. They left one German to keep watch. The murderers set the neighbouring houses, large and small, on fire. The heat scorched me, the smoke choked me, and my dress began to burn, I tried cautiously to put out the flames. I was hidden by a potato basket, and when the German sentinel was looking in another direction I pushed the basket in front of me and crawled along for a few yards behind it. Suddenly the wind blew a cloud of smoke in our direction so that the sentinel could not see me. I jumped to my feet and ran into the cellar of a burning house. There I found several people slightly wounded who had succeeded in getting out from under a heap of corpses. We set to work to dig an under-ground pa**age, a difficult task amid fire and smoke. At last, after several hours of superhuman effort, the pa**age was finished and brought us out in the courtyard of a neighbouring house, not yet on fire. This was about half past twelve at night. Someone led us out to the fields, away from the fighting and burning. I could hardly keep on my feet. I am still in hospital. The number of persons shot in my presence may be estimated at about 500, only 3 or 4 having been saved. The murderers were SS-men. [The Polish text shows that the author is a woman, this cannot be shown in the English translation save by the one word "dress". Note by the translator]. Record No. 73 On August 5, 1944, between 12 and 2 p.m., I saw from a window on the first floor of Wola Hospital Germans dragging women out of the cellars of No. 28, Plocka Str. They shot them in the courtyard with machine-guns. Almost at the same time, I saw in the courtyard of No. 30, Plocka Str. the hands of more then 20 people raised and visible over the fence (the people themselves could not be seen). After a volley of shots these hands fell down: this was another of the executions in Wola. Record No. 57 I lived in the Wola district at No. 8, Elekcyjna Street. At 10 a.m. on Aug. 5, 1944 a detachment of SS-men and Vla**ov's men entered. They drove us from the cellars and brought us near the Sowinski Park at Ulrychow. They shot at us when we pa**ed. My wife was k**ed on the spot: our child was wounded and cried for his mother. Soon a Ukrainian approached and k**ed my two-year-old child like a dog; then he approached me together with some Germans and stood on my chest to see whether I was alive or not - I shammed dead, lest I should be k**ed too. One of the murderers took my watch; I heard him reloading his gun. I thought he would finish me off, but he went on further, thinking I was dead. I lay thus from 10 a.m. until 9 p.m. pretending to be dead, and witnessing further atrocities. During that time I saw further groups being driven out and shot near the place where I lay. The huge heap of corpses grew still bigger. Those who gave any sign of life were shot. I was buried under other corpses and nearly suffocated. The executions lasted until 5 p.m. At 9 p.m. a group of Poles came to take the corpses away. I gave them a sign that I was alive. They helped me to get up and I regained sufficient strength to carry with them the body of my wife and child to the Sowinski Park, where they took all the dead. After this sad duty had been performed they took me to St. Laurence's Church at Wola, where I remained till next day. I cannot state the exact number of the victims, but I estimate that those among whom I lay amounted to some 3,000 (three thousand). I met a friend in the church who had gone through the same experience as I, having lost a boy of 8, who had been wounded and died calling for his father. I am still in hospital and the image of d**h is constantly before my eyes.