From: hmemor@YOUTH.NET
Date: Thu Jun 06 2002 - 18:37:03 PDT
From: rengate1@aol.com My name is Tom Adams, and my grandfather, Waclaw Sobutkowski was an infantryman in the Polish Army during the German invasion in 1939. He was one of three men in a heavy machine gun team. The story is in the third person, because he related it to his wife, and to my mother, who in turn, related it to me. His unit received mobilization orders by messenger on August 27, and on the next day was on a train, on his way to the staging area where the men gathered to be issued uniforms and equipment, then sent on to their units. (side note: He was from Pabianice, a suburb of Lodz, and was likely in Army Group Lodz in Central Poland) The unit he was in (his battalion perhaps)was on it's way forward on foot, when reports came (perhaps scouts?) that a force of German infantry were headed their way. The commander decided to order the men to entrench themselves and wait for them. They came soon enough. The Germans attempted to take the trench line by storm, just as in films about World War One, rushing forward with fixed bayonets. They ran into a hail of Polish rifle and machine gun fire. Granddad was the third man, a porter, running back and forth to bring more ammo up. Taking heavy casualties, the German assault broke, and the survivors fell back, regrouped, and soon tried again. The second attack too withered under machine gun and rifle fire, then broke. Finally hurried words were exchanged up and down the trench line. Ammo is low, we do not have enough left to stop them a third time. The order is shouted up and down the line "Bagnety, na bron!" in English, "Bayonets, on guard!" The men drew their bayonets and waited. Soon enough, the Germans came again. The Poles answered, not with a wall of lead, but with aimed shots, determined to make every one count. The Germans rushed the trench, and succeeded in storming it. Savage hand to hand fighting ensued. My Granddad dropped his rifle, and picked up a trenching shovel. He never said how many of the Germans he killed or maimed with it. He spoke little of that part. In the end, however, whether he gave up or was knocked unconscious I do not know, but he was captured, and the survivors were herded off on foot to the west, toward Germany. How many days they were on the march I do not know, but toward nightfall, some of the prisoners, himself included, decided to make a break for it. As it got dark, those who decided to run, did. The Germans reacted quickly, raising their rifles, they fired. One, two men fell that Granddad knew of. Perhaps others fell too. More next posting... To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: timewitnesses-unsubscribe@egroups.com Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/