Warsaw, 8 October 1949. Irena Skonieczna (MA), acting as a member of the Main Commission for the Investigation of German Crimes in Poland, interviewed the person named below, who testified as follows:
Name and surname Waleria Małkowska, née Wierciach,
primo voto Potrzebowska
| Date and place of birth | 10 May 1896, Leningrad |
| Parents’ names | Józef and Aleksandra, née Poławska |
| Father’s profession | shopkeeper |
| Citizenship and nationality | Polish |
| Religion | Roman Catholic |
| Education | secondary |
| Occupation | office worker |
| Place of residence | Warsaw, Bednarska Street 23, flat 22 |
| Criminal record | none |
When the Warsaw Uprising broke out, I was at home at Krakowskie Przedmieście Street 66. Our house was in a no-man’s-land. Since it abutted on the factory of the Consumers’ Production Plant of the Fermentational Institute at Mariensztat Street, it was possible to use this route to pass from beneath, from Powiśle, to Krakowskie Przedmieście Street, and from there to the Old Town. The house was also frequented by insurgents, who came for food, enormous stocks of which – first and foremost fats – had been gathered there. This state of affairs existed until around 8 August 1944.
On 10 August in the evening the Germans (I do not know their unit) arrived at the premises of our house, accompanied by “Ukrainians.” They came from the direction of Mariensztat Street and, as I heard, Krakowskie Przedmieście Street, through a shop selling devotional items. They ascended the tower of the Bernardine Church, which was adjacent to our house. On the morning of 11 August the Germans ordered our men, of whom there were seven in the house, to carry wounded Germans down from the tower. Furthermore, they ordered some of them to proceed to Piłsudskiego Square (which was under constant fire) for rockets and ammunition.
At around 11.00 a.m., my son, Zbyszek Potrzebowski, who along with the other men had been bringing wounded Germans down from the tower, burst into the shelter in which I was hiding. He was very tired and therefore threw himself onto the divan bed. A while later, however, the Germans summoned the men again. I told my son not to go, but he said that if he stayed and failed to obey the order, the rest of the men would be shot. At some time past 11.00 a.m. there was a commotion in the basement. The Germans had found some vodka that had not been given out in time – before the Uprising – to the factory employees. They were walking around completely drunk and started dragging out young girls. It was then that my daughter, Anna Zofia Potrzebowska, fell into their hands.
Some time later Ms Zofia Żarnicka (I will also provide her address) burst into the shelter, screaming that she had hit a German in the face. She had been followed by the commander of the German detachment that was wandering around our house. He had put a revolver to Ms Zofia’s temple and led her outside. A while later Ms Żarnicka returned. She was very pale and did not want to say what had happened. She just called out my daughter and younger son, Wiesław Małkowski and told them that the German had dragged her into the basement and pointed to the corpses of all seven of our men, lying there dead. Thus, the bodies included that of my son, Zbigniew Potrzebowski, of Eugeniusz Rozum, Edmund Kalinko, Nowicki – the proprietor of the shop, Cendrowicz – a museum caretaker, Józef Wiśniewski – the caretaker of our house, and of Kowalczyk, the caretaker of the Resursa social club.
On around 20 August, the Germans ordered the men who had been hiding in the building of the Charitable Society to bury the bodies of the victims of the execution carried out on 11 August. Among them was one Mr Badowski (I will provide the address of his wife, Hanna Badowska-Glińska, when the opportunity arises). I learned from her that the men from the Charitable Society building had also been shot dead. Only Stanisław Pazyra, who during the Uprising had been regarded with some mistrust by his companions, survived. However Ms Badowska-Glińska can provide more details concerning this matter.
Returning to the day of 11 August 1944, I would like to add that the Germans had wanted to throw grenades at the civilians remaining in the basements – that is only women with children. However, I heard that it was at that very moment that a German detachment entered our house. They ordered all of us to leave the building. When we were departing, the Germans detained a 16-year-old girl, who later rejoined us with her head smashed. She said that a German had beat her head against a brick wall. Another girl, this one 12 years old, was also stopped by the Germans; I met her later in Pruszków.
The Germans led us along Mariensztat, Sowia and Bednarska streets. The population of these areas had already been deported and the houses were ablaze. Our group of 13 women and children finally reached the Saski Garden. There and in the vicinity of the Mirowskie Market we were joined by more people. In Żelaznej Bramy Square we were robbed of all our valuables by “Ukrainians,” who once again started dragging out young girls. My daughter fell into their hands; she returned to me only two years later, having been deported to Germany.
At this point the report was brought to a close and read out.