Janusz Waldziek, nickname "Black"
On 1 August 1944, Janusz Waldziek was 13 years old. He was happy to yet live in free Poland.
With joy and hope he went to fight in the Warsaw Uprising (Oblast of "Radwan" (Śródmieście) - group of "Chrobry II" – I battalion of "The Iron Lech" – 3rd Company). I had an older brother. He was in a conspiracy and went to a fundraiser at the corner of Jerusalem and Iron Avenue. I went to him and I stayed there – he says. After the uprising, he left town with a civilian population.
Image 1:
I stood in a German helmet, a German panther and with an English device gun, and below me lay Germany. I looked into his eyes. I saw fear and surprise. I laughed, I laughed. It was my revenge. I only said 2 words, "Hanya, this is for you."
We utilized to go to school together, on houses and trams. She was a beautiful girl, she had beautiful eyes, and she sang so beautifully. She had this beret, she'd take it off and people would throw it in there for a fewer bucks.
What a brave girl she was. You won't believe it. We were on a tram where 2 Germans sat. The military, in uniform, had guns. They were young, talking to each other. They knew Polish. And we sang these pre-war and business songs: "Siekiera, motyka, moonshine, glass" and so on.
One of the Germans got up, came to us, reached into his pocket, took out his purse and threw Hani in the beret. She found that coin, showed it to him, and spit on it. It turned all red. He leaned over her, I think he wanted to tell her something, and she spit in his face. A German soldier who had a gun. He couldn't take it. He reached into the holster, pulled the gun, tried to kill her instantly. He'd kill her if it wasn't for his friend. He started talking to him in German, he was cursing a lot, he yet hid that gun. The tram stopped, I grabbed her hand and foot. He went on, we stayed. I went up to her and said, "What did you do? He would kill you. This is Germany. This is the occupier." She looked at me, smiled and said, "Black, I'm not going to last this war."
The Germans bombed the building where Hania lived. Half of it was gone. People pulled those who were inactive alive out of the ruins. I ran up to her, she was inactive alive. She looked at me and smiled. She was hurt. She wanted to scope out to me, but she couldn't. I knelt in front of her, I took her hand, she was so dark, beautiful eyes. She wanted to say something, but she couldn't either. I was talking to her all the time, and yet those eyes started fogging. I took it on my hand, hugged it to myself. And she died. She lost her life in my arms. She was 14, just like me. I loved her and she loved me. It was a terrible tragedy for me.
Then I said to myself, "I'm not gonna let the Germans do it." I was walking, looking for an chance to get revenge. I don't like talking about Hani's death. It hurts me. I can't forget it.
Image 2:
I've always loved animals. During the uprising there were quite a few stray, hungry dogs. Families were lost and animals were left. Dogs of various races ran on the streets, many injured:
One didn't have a tail, another had a paw or an ear. War. The shrapnel was everywhere. Besides, they had nothing to eat, they were looking for food.
In September, my commander approached me very early in the morning: "Go to the steps, watch if the Germans attack." They were attacking our barricades, our facilities. We defended ourselves. We had to. We knew that if the Germans entered the North Central, they would do the same thing on Wola, execution the civilian population.
I sat on those steps. I knew if the tanks were coming or German infantry would show up, I'd gotta let the commander know. And he'll organize a defense. I sat there thinking. I was reasoning about food. I was hungry due to the fact that there was usually nothing to eat. And that's erstwhile the dog came to me. It's black, it's small, it's standing ears, it's brown-burned. He came to me and stopped. He was staring at me, staring at me. It was this facility fenced by a wall, why the dog? He always has options. He stood in front of me and looked me in the eye.
I say to him, "Look, man, I'm not gonna give you anything due to the fact that I don't have anything. I don't know if I'm gonna have breakfast. Go find a dumpster somewhere." But he didn't listen. He kept looking at me. He sat down for a while, got up again. I was talking to him. I yet thought you weren't here. I won't let him eat due to the fact that I don't, but at least I'll pet him. I leaned over and heard a firearm bullet fly over me. She hit the wall and left a hole. I threw myself on the ground. It's a average reflex. I was curious about that dog. Imagine that no dog was there. I was looking around. The dog was gone.
And I saw him, I wanted to pet him, I bent. erstwhile I meet a priest, I ask, "Father, what was that?" I'm talking about this incident. And the priest spreads his hands and says, "Son, that was your guardian angel.".
