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Dedicated to Poland's citizens' fight for freedom in the Eastern Borderlands and in exile during WW2
Dedicated to Poland's citizens' fight for freedom in the Eastern Borderlands and in exile during WW2

Kresy-Siberia's posts

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Event record: The Forgotten Deportees, Polish Exiles in Siberia (Melbourne Australia 2011-02-27).

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Film compiled from photos of Krystyna Skwarko by daughter, Krystyna Tomaszyk (Wellington NZ)

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24 styczeń w godzinach 18:00 - 20:00
Muzeum Azji i Pacyfiku, ul. Solec 24, 00-403 Warszawa

24 stycznia Muzeum Azji i Pacyfiku i Polski Instytut Studiów nad Sztuką Świata zapraszają na premierę książki prof. Jana Wiktora Sienkiewicza pt. "ARTYŚCI ANDERSA. Continuità e novità", prezentującej po raz pierwszy nieznane w polskiej literaturze zjawisko wielu działań artystycznych, edukacyjnych i wystawienniczych, jakie zaistniały w ramach 2 Korpusu.

W opracowaniu pojawia się, nierozpoznana przez minione siedemdziesiąt lat, grupa w większości zapomnianych, którzy – niezależnie od wojskowych rygorów oraz nienaturalnych dla twórczości plastycznej warunków i okoliczności, w szeregach 2 Korpusu – znaleźli warunki rozwojowe w postaci organizacji wystaw, pomocy materialnej, grup i stowarzyszeń artystycznych, a nawet samodzielnych szkół malarskich i indywidualnych pracowni artystycznych. W książce została opisana edukacja artystyczna polskich żołnierzy w zakresie sztuk plastycznych, którą Polacy podejmowali już w Bejrucie od 1942 roku, a następnie kontynuowali ją w latach 1945-1946 we Włoszech i w Wielkiej Brytanii w latach 1947-1949.

Wydawcą książki jest Polski Instytut Studiów nad Sztuką Świata i Wydawnictwo Tako.,101,poza-seriami-out-of-series.html

1926-12-29 Utworzono Przedsiębiorstwo Żegluga Polska z siedzibą w Gdyni

But on 5th December I was out on deck before sunrise. I could tell a beautiful day was coming. The air was warm. I enjoyed being alone with God and with you. I stood there, leaning against the railing and watching a puff of smoke on the horizon. The sun rose and we saw land. Flat, sandy, spotted with a few lonely palm trees – Africa.
The Carol cast anchor at 7 am in the port of Alexandria. Egypt. Two pretty motorboats approached us and the Egyptian princess went ashore. This is Africa – she speaks for herself: the air is as hot as it is back home in the summer. On the shore, a great mass sways – Arabs, Egyptians, Negroes – what a sea of people, what clamour! In that crowd of dirty men, policemen bustle about, speaking to the people with their clubs. It appears to be a customary method of communication and no one seems to mind.
A mob of boisterous servants ran onto deck and scattered after baggage. Others – or merchants – surrounded us with their merchandise. Some of their things were interesting, but all shoddy and overpriced. I bought a wallet, as I had lost mine, and I paid 20 zlotys. Others bought no end of cigarettes in pretty boxes. Only, sadly, when they opened them, they found biscuits instead.

"Last night I barely had two hours of sleep. We entered the Bosporus at dawn. Sights of wonder opened to our eyes as land emerged out of the morning fog – Turkey. Mysterious, hidden from Europeans, cities of mosques – Turkey. We progressed through the strait – quite broad, 2-3 kilometres in places. Charming Turkish towns on either side, with slender minaret towers bursting upward; a fortress, too, stands guard of the country. Seagulls and Turkish plovers glide over the quiet waters of the Bosporus. After a while, a great port city came up out of the fog: Istanbul.
We reached harbour at 10:00 am on 1st December and were immediately surrounded by innumerable galleys filled with merchandise. Dozens of ragged, shouting workers leaped in to work. Oh, what a nation – screams, shouts – awful. The city is beautiful, spread on both sides of the channel, bristled with a thousand minarets. Women, with their faces covered, watched the vessel. Steamboats run back and forth across the channel, like water buses. Evening came. At 11:00 pm we left the harbour and sailed out to the Marmara Sea. Port lights disappeared. I went down to my cabin.
Besides me, cabin A was home to five other passengers. Major Ratajczak, our cammander – a very decent fellow, two captains, an officer and a corporal. Mine was a top bunk, right by the porthole. So as I lay in my bunk, I could always watch what lay ahead. Waves beat against the glass, darkness flooded us for a moment. How sweet it was to sleep on the ship, being rocked to sleep like a baby in its crib.
We were awakened in early morning hours by the boy’s bell and the words, „Domne, Dardanele o flota englera”. I jumped out of bed and was on deck in a few minutes. No one had got up yet. I was welcomed by a delicious dawn. I prayed earnestly and marvelled at the wonders of nature. On the starboard side, we passed a memorial to sailors, an enormous ship carved of white stone. Tall and slender cypress spurted out of magnificent green hills. All passengers were on deck now. We had an Arab, a Negro woman and an Egyptian princess. A pretty enough lass, I must say. The Arab was an entertainment, changing clothes every hour and strutting along the deck in his new outfit and beads. Time passed, the Dardanelles disappeared. The Carol cut through the Aegean Sea. At 10:00, a tiny wisp of smoke appeared on the horizon. All binoculars turned toward it. It glided gently across the water on the clear background of the sky. An English destroyer. As we came closer, she motioned us to stop. The Carol slowed down, stopped. A boat peeled off that other ship and approached us. The ladder was lowered, English officers came aboard. After an inspection, the two vessels went each its own way.
The day was coming to a close. Oddly-shaped islands passed us on both sides. Suddenly someone at the bow shouted “Sharks!” - we ran to the bow. Ah! Four magnificent dolphins swam alongside us just by the bow of the ship, close to the surface, splashing and leaping out of the water. They were quite big – about 2 metres long. They were gone as suddenly as they had appeared.
Night fell. We passed a largish island on the port side and I saw land on the starboard – it was Greece. We entered the Greek port of Piraeus near Athens, at 11 pm. The deck became busy again with dawn. Cargo exchange. It wasn’t until after lunch, at about 1 pm, that they lifted anchor. We are leaving the port. Halinka, what a stunning sight! Tall mountains emerge from the fog and the capital of Greece, Athens, proudly sprawled right by the sea. Tiny white houses gleam in the sun, the Acropolis rises over the city. The sea as quiet as a lake. Lots of little sailboats glide here and there, leaning to the side. Oh, my darling, how beautiful all this and how beautiful our world. And there, where you are – oh, God, watch over Halinka!
We were now sailing south, passing lots of little islands, until dusk. Night came. I was sitting on deck – musing, watching the waves. The night was dark until suddenly it began dawning on one side of the sky and soon a brilliant vessel sailed out onto the sea – the moon. I was sitting there, enchanted. I thought, “I wish my Hala could see this... What good is it that I can see it when she cannot, she is suffering out there, poor dear...” I sat there until I fell asleep. Fred woke me up and I went to bed.
We were up late on 4th December; there was a drizzle and the Carol was heaving in a fitful dance. Some took it quite poorly. We were glad of it. The fewer guests at the dinner table, the more dinner for us. The Carol’s cuisine wasn’t great – the portions were too small. We passed Crete on the starboard side and sailed out to the Mediterranean. The thrill was ever greater as the Carol kept on dancing. We sat on deck at the bow and swung with the ship. The bow rose high, flexed and plunged again toward the deep. From time to time, some higher wave crashed on the deck, chasing away the passengers. And so the day passed, with nothing in sight but water and sky. I went to bed early.

Winter 1939, Interned in Romania

"In Slatina, Romanians walked our boys to the john at gunpoint, but for 10 lei they’d help them over the fence and pass over their bags. Oh, many, many things happened in internment camps.
The date 31st November came at last and the Consul told us to make ready. By evening, we had blended in with the crowd at the sea port. One more test. A moment of uncertainty – search and passport inspection. All went well, thanks be to God. The customs officers had been paid off. Soon the dock – gangplank – and we are aboard. At 9:00 I took my place in the A cabin, third class, on the steamer Carol. A few suspicious-looking blokes nosed about in the hallways, but they, too, disappeared with the bell that signalled our departure. Anchor chains rattled, the ship rolled gently and the tug boat grunted as it hauled to turn us around.
I went out on deck and stood at the stern. The night was perfect – starry, yet cool. The tug released the rope, gave a long bellow and moved out of the way. The Carol’s propellers started with a slight throb. Slowly, we passed the harbour entry buoys and lighthouses, at last to be rocked by the waves of the Black Sea. A certain relief flooded my heart, all fear had stayed ashore – we were free. Open wide before us was a field of sacrifice – a field of battle... Constanta had disappeared but for the pale blinking light of her last lighthouse. I stood at the stern, staring at this strange world: whichever way I turned, the same sight – sky and sea, ebony-black, murmuring; a foreboding, mysterious abyss.
I wrapped myself tightly in my jacket, pushed on my 20-lei hat and stood there, musing. Giving free reign to my dreams, I let them carry me away. At times like those, thoughts like startled flocks of white doves take to the air, and though they might settle for a moment when calmed with reflection, they flutter right off again, far-far away, to meet the thoughts of my beloved – yours, Halinka. What a delight to be with you, even if only in thought.
The Carol was pushing full steam ahead, breaking the waves. At times a white crest of a wave reaches the ship’s side and disappears, broken by the bow. I lifted my eyes to the sky, deep in prayer, asking for victory, for a safe return, and especially for you, Halinka – to keep your love pure for your Waldek who should be on his way back, but keeps moving farther and farther away. But you know why this is, you understand. I beseech you, my love, through God: endure, be strong in faith and spirit, strong in body and faithful in love. Our good God will give us victory and will let me return to you – only endure, endure, my love."

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