(15) Liberation!

At the next farm, we had a much more sympathetic farmer. He employed a few other Poles, but apart from using them to do the work he didn't want to, like slaughtering the pigs, he was very good to them and even allowed them some freedom. Even the freedom to make their own vodka! Peter, the farmer's son had deserted and escaped from his army unit, and was hiding out in the air raid shelter (bunker). He'd been there for about two weeks, caught between the Germans to the East, and the Americans to the West.

I was out in the meadow one day when I saw in the distance, thirteen soldiers in green uniforms coming across a field at the other side of the valley. They were walking in single file, one after the other. At the same time over their heads I saw the "double decker" spotter plane we called the "Cuckoorichnik" with American markings circling over head. I realised immediately that these soldiers must be American GIs! . As soon as they saw me, the pointed their guns in my direction and waved at me and indicated that I should come towards them and follow them. I walked over to the Americans. The lead soldier, who obviously did not speak German looked at me and said "Deutsche?"

"No , no," I said, and pointed to the "P" badge on my coat, and said "Polish!",

but he continued to say "Deutsche!" I'm thinking

"Fuck me, he thinks I'm German and he's got a gun!"

Not one of the twelve GIs or the officer spoke a word of German, and I spoke no English so I thought I'd try French!

"Moi Polonaise!" Moi Prisonier de la geurre!

At this, the officer said "Ah! French!" and brought forward a soldier who spoke a little French. We communicated in fractured French and I explained that I was working on the farm close by employed to milk cows. At the time I couldn't remember the words that described what I was doing exactly on the farm, but who cared now I was with the Allies! I told him about the searchlight close by, and our two "half-German, half- Poles.

After speaking to my "translator" the Officer got on his radio to the spotter plane and explained the situation. The Officer indicated to everyone to get down and take cover, the spotter plane headed back to the American lines, and within a few minutes we heard the artillery open up. They were trying to hit the searchlight position about half a mile away. This went on for maybe an hour, probably twelve guns raking fire in to the forest and the surrounding town, flattening everything in the vicinity. When the barrage was over, my translator came back to me, and said

" You are now under the command of the American forces". You will be our "speaker" (interpreter) from now on.

You speak German?

"Yes",

bit of French?

"Yes"

Russian?

"Yes"

"Well you are just the man we need."

The officer asked,

"Do you know of any soldiers, ammunition dumps, or Hitler sympathisers around here?"

I told him about Peter and the other German deserter that I'd seen hiding out on the farms. I took them to the farm, and pointed out the cellar where the soldier was hiding. Two GIs stood one either side of the cellar entrance with rifles pointed at the door, while I shouted in German,

" Whoever is in the cellar, come out with your hands above your head, or we'll throw a grenade through the door!"

The hiding German dropped everything and came out, hands up. The Americans then went through the farmhouse, taking all the weapons, pictures of Hitler, and any Nazi regalia, and put them all in a heap in the farmyard and smashed it all beyond use.

When we got to my farm, the one with the kind German farmer, I had to swear to the Americans and guarantee that the farmer was a good man. That he was kind to the workers in his charge, and that his son Peter had deserted, and did not support the Nazi cause any more. The officer said

"If we find that you're lying about these people, we'll treat you as responsible, and as guilty as them"

But I was 100% certain that these were good people. The farmer and his family were terrified, but so grateful, that they kissed my hand and thanked me profusely.

Later that evening, the Americans gave me a uniform, and officially signed me up as their "speaker"

The following day, several lorries arrived at the farm with German prisoners on board. Amongst the prisoners were our two "half-German -half-Poles from the searchlight. Well you can imagine that they were pleased to see me! The tried to make out that they were supporters of the Allies.

Well, there I was, in my American uniform, surrounded by Gis. I looked at the older one and said, "Well, here you are then, the War's over, now's your chance to hang me up by my bollocks!" I looked at the younger one and said, well here you go then, what about you?

With the Americans were a number of GIs who were Poles from a few generations back. Some of them understood a little Polish. The couldn't pronounce Polish very well, but we communicated, and they used to give me cigarettes, and chocolate, we were brothers! One I remember was a huge man, and he just fell about laughing as I explained to him that these were the searchlight crew, and how they'd threatened me!

At this, the huge man picked up the first German and threw him back on to the truck, one of the other "American Poles" lunged at the younger one and knocked him to the ground. I stood over him and offered him a knife and said,

"here you are then now you can castrate me as well!" "That's what you were planning to do after the war wasn't it?"

As he cowered on the floor, we beat him, and threw him on the truck with his friend.