B.Ratter: They didn't know anything, truly nothing, about the 2 100 1000 missing without trace from the Volyn plains

Well, the Ukrainian expert did not recognise that Ukrainian genocide in Poles (very cruel) was a tragedy of the Polish people at the time erstwhile “there was a collective possession of the Ukrainian people.” The tragedy, due to the fact that the failure of crucial tissue of the Polish nation, is the Poles' dispatch to Siberia (also from Lithuania, Belarus) on the basis of a letter drawn up by Ukrainians. After 17 September 1939, the Soviets handed over administrative power to them.

Berydchowska represents the Turkish civilization and does not realize that condemning the crime of genocide, uncovering the body, exhumation and burial is simply a feature of Latin civilization, taking care of the dignity of all man.

Poles who managed to save lives and leave the inhuman land with Anders remember their household homes, to which they could no longer return. The Kresa Foundation - Siberia are descendants of Siberian convicts. He has been moving a virtual Museum for years, which is simply a testament to large trauma and longing for his homeland and household home not due to the fact that “this subject is being exploited by Russia”. Poem of Mai Trochimczyk for Stanisław Wiśniowski from Australia, the founder of the Virtual Museum of Kresy-Syberia is proof of that.

On 27 September 1939, a returning soldier of the Polish Army, hr Andrzej Potocki, brother of Leon Sapieha's wife, the last owner of Krasiczyn (The Sapiehs protected the population of the village from Ukrainians in the castle). Leon Sapieha learned after a year from the parish priest from which the murderers came and paid the Ukrainian peasants dearly to show where they buried the murdered Andrzej Krasicki. The body of the murdered brother-in-law in Lipovec, hr Leon Sapieha bought from Ukrainians and buried. There was a war (German aggression 1 September 1939 and Russia aggression 17 September 1939)

"Drzyzga Adam led the ceremony procession of Józef Kobyluk from the church to the cemetery at the edge of Sorocco village on 23rd November 1944. "The corpse was hung on a steam-horsed farm car. due to the muddy road, the conduction was moving very slowly. Hidden in the fences and buildings, the banders fired at very close range, right at people. There was a panic. The horses pulling the car were killed and the coffin fell off the car. Many were killed and wounded on the road, the survivors sought refuge in close Ukrainian buildings, but these were closed. The escapees had armed banders before them, killing them and killing wounded on the road.

Fr. Adam Drzyzga, the undertaker of the funeral, was badly wounded and with a cross in his hand and a prayerary fell to a close ditch, eagerly praying a prayer. He was spotted, followed by 3 banners, picked up a cross and a prayer book, killing him. 1 of them, eager for revenge, walked into a muddy baboon and muddy boots trampled on a dead priest's commission. For 2 days he lay in liturgical robes in the place where he was murdered; buried at night close the parish church by a local church.” There was a war (German aggression 1 September 1939 and Russia aggression 17 September 1939)

"In People's Poland, sold by Western allies to Stalin and ruled by Kremlin agents, communists, and frequently even erstwhile banders, dragged to their side by the Soviets, Polish victims could not even light candles on the graves of the murdered. The “friendship” of Poland and the peoples of the russian Union flourished from the top to the bottom, just as the present “conciliation” of Polish-Ukrainian - without showing, remorse and Christian confession" - wrote prof. Czesław Partacz in the monograph of Koszalin University of Technology in 2013.

Maja Trochimczyk (Rain bread, poems from exile):

5 5 COUNTRIES IN VENTION – FOR STANISŁAW WISNIOWSKI from Australia, founder of the Virtual Museum of Kresy-Syberia

Four people are 5 connected countries

by the dark line of the sixth — evil incarnate.

The Evil Empire changed their lives erstwhile and for all.

Everyone's lost now, unincorporated.

In a fresh world, after a series of unwanted wars.



Poland is the anchor of their common language,

which has not yet perished - with rye bread,

fresh butter and buckling honey.

Chopin, Matejko, Norwid and Mickiewicz –

knights and earth, field flowers, nostalgia

And rain. Alma Mater of mourning.



Poland, excluded from the triumph Parade

in 1945 through large Britain.

Great - she took advantage of the courage, the sacrifice of life

Polish soldiers, her brave defenders.

Britain - drove them to the pods

a crumbling empire,

after the fight has been completed —



To Canada — wide, open areas.

Clean air and water, safe streets.

The best country in the planet if you dare

bear constant cold, to the bones of the freezing -



To Australia - red earth, oil, and animals –

Weirdos, proof of divine humor.

The dream land of dark-skinned, silent sages.

A penal colony for London bandits and whores.

A shelter for those who have no place to go,

without home after the disaster that changed the planet —



To Argentina - where visitors can tango

and mourn 20 1000 “desaparecidos”

in a quiet marina, far from the wars of Europe.

Next to each other: rich people and executioners, SS-mani and their Polish victims.



They didn't know anything, truly nothing, about 2 100 thousand.

missing without trace from the Volyn plains.

They never thought of 1 or 2 million.

Polish civilians - deported, hungry,

Murdered — Who Will number Them? They disappeared like a dream.



After the war, the British Queen expelled

former soldiers, erstwhile allies,

and defenders. They've turned into unwanted ballast,

headache, geopolitical guilt -



They went to Australia, South, North

America - to California, where all resident

is a separate archipelago of talent and originality.

Each head - the space of fiction, the projection of its own

an invention. With his own rudder, his own sailor, his own ship...



Here we meet on the bright coasts

The Pacific in this second Republic of Venice.

We drink Cabernet from the Russian River Valley

And we're meditating on the tangled threads.

fabric of life. It's a messy work of drunken Furies.

and the indifferent, patient goddesses of destiny.



Gobelin's almost ready. Lachesis and Kloto

tangled skeletal chaotic fates. You can't.

Nothing to do. You gotta wait until Atropos, their sister,

He will mercifully cut the thread of our days.

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