Warsaw, 26 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 | Ludwika Śliwowska, née Astheimer |
| Date and place of birth | 14 June 1904, Warsaw |
| Parents’ names | Wacław and Balbina, née Lewalska |
| Father’s profession | artisan, shoemaker |
| Citizenship and nationality | Polish |
| Religion | Roman Catholic |
| Education | two classes of secondary school |
| Occupation | housewife |
| Place of residence | Warsaw, Szwoleżerów Street 4, flat VI/27 |
When the Warsaw Uprising broke out, I was at home at Książęca Street 1. Our area had been taken over by the insurgents. A hospital had been set up in the ZUS (Social Insurance Institution) building. There were insurgents in the house at Książęca Street 1 too.
On 3 August [1944] there were no insurgents in our house. In the morning, German tanks rolled along Książęca Street. If anyone looked through their window onto the street, the Germans would immediately start to shoot. The residents of our house went down to the basements. The Germans started throwing grenades into the ground-floor flats. The houses caught fire. Some time later the Germans entered our courtyard, shooting in the air and shouting for the people to come out, as the house was to be burned down. They did not allow us to take anything from our flats and led us out into the street. There they checked our identity cards. One of the soldiers ordered us to stand against the wall of the house. We thought that the Germans intended to execute us, for right opposite, on the other side of the street, soldiers lay on the ground next to machine guns that had been trained in our direction. However, a German officer happened to come out from Smolna Street and he ordered that we be marched off to the [National] Museum. By now, our house was ablaze.
We were kept in the museum for four days, without any food and sleeping on the stone floor. The conditions were terrible. On the first day the Germans took all the young men and used them as cover for their tanks; my son, 16-year old Stanisław Śliwowski, was among them. After four days, the Germans – acting under the cover of the Polish Red Cross – ordered all the women and older men to leave. I somehow managed to extricate my son. My husband, however, remained in the museum, along with the other men. We stayed in house no. 1 at Książęca Street, in formerly German flats that had not been consumed by the conflagration. After a few days our house was reoccupied by the insurgents, who frequently organised forays into Czerniakowska and neighbouring streets.
On 9 September 1944 our house was taken over by insurgents from the Old Town, commanded by a lieutenant who went under the pseudonym “Książę.” Our house came under heavy fire from artillery positions on Poniatowskiego Bridge.
On 13 September the insurgents withdrew in the direction of Ludna and Czerniakowska streets. The residents of our house moved to the ZUS building. Around noon on the same day, the ZUS building was shelled with incendiary rounds by a tank positioned near the gasworks at Ludna Street. The building quickly caught fire. We started carrying the wounded and sick from the flames, placing them in the square near the gasworks.
Next we walked with the sick to the facility of the Sisters of St. Casimir, from where the hospital was evacuated after some time. I do not know where to, for I and my family, accompanied by a few other people, hid in a low cock-loft until 16 September. During this period the Germans and “Ukrainians” committed mass rapes of young women.
On 23 September I managed to get to the Western Railway Station, having in the meantime wandered for a few days around the ruins of Warsaw. On that day we were transported to Pruszków.
At this point the report was brought to a close and read out.