MIECZYSŁAW KOSESKI


Senior Rifleman Stanisław Koseski, 28 years old, Roman Catholic, Polish national, baker by trade, unmarried.


I was disarmed by the Soviets in the city of Łuck and sent to Szepietówka. We were marched for two days without food. In Szepietówka we were kept in the open air for 12 days, with rain falling on our heads. We received a loaf of bread weighing 2 kilograms for ten people, and half a liter of watery soup once a day. They marched us from Szepietówka to Zahorce, through Polish territories. This is where I worked building a road. Quotas were so high that it was impossible to fill them. 10 cubic meters per person was rewarded with 600 grams of bread and soup made of rotten fish. In order to fill this quota, one would have to work at least two days. For failing to meet it, one would get only 300 grams of bread a day, water, and detention in a dark cell. I was marched from Zahorce to Radziwiłłów, where I worked clearing snow from the road. Frosts were very severe – it was 38 degrees below zero and we had to work in ripped shoes and with no gloves or underwear. They would harass us in a terrible manner and shoot at us as if they were shooting rabbits. I saw five of my colleagues being shot to death. I know the surname of one of them: Szczepański from Zaolzie.

They always said that Poland would never be restored, and we always replied that Poland existed and that it would prevail. I was punished for that with 21 days in a dark cell, where I received only 300 grams of bread and cold water once a day.

Medical care was very poor. A person with a 38-degree fever would still be forced to work. Everything was filthy, lice were walking all over our bodies. We weren’t allowed to change underwear at all. They would take away our watches and underwear; if someone had two shirts, they would take one of those away as well. They also confiscated our mementoes – even family photographs.

After the German-Soviet war broke out, we were marched from Radziwiłłów to Złotonosze, beyond the Dnieper River. During this journey they harassed and beat us with rifle butts, and set dogs on us. They provided only enough food to keep us from dying on the way. Ten of my colleagues died from starvation, and a deputy prosecutor forced the doctor to declare that the cause of their deaths wasn’t starvation, but severe injuries suffered during an air-raid.

From Złotonosze we were transported to Starobielsk. The doors and windows of our train were boarded up. We suffered immense hardship: they gave us herrings to eat, but no drinking water. People fainted from thirst. We were driven to Starobielsk, where I stayed for several weeks. Then they released us and we joined the Polish army in Totskoye.