Gunner Józef Gmitrzak, born on 7 October 1921, car driver, bachelor.
I lived in a hamlet called Przytuły and I was arrested there because my father was a policeman.
On the night from 12 to 13 April at about 2.00 a.m., four NKVD officers came to our home, searched it thoroughly allegedly looking for guns, and declared that we were under arrest and were to immediately prepare ourselves to leave.
My family and I were taken, under strong escort, to the railroad station in Łomża, from where we were transported deep into Russia in overcrowded freight cars. During the journey, which took over two weeks, we experienced the worst possible conditions – hunger, cold, and even a shortage of fresh air. On the sixteenth day of the journey we arrived at Kokchetav railroad station in northern Kazakhstan, from where we were sent to different kolkhozes. My family and I were sent to one of the kolkhozes, which was Karabulak, along with four other families. The place made a terrible impression on us, because the buildings inhabited by the local residents, and in which we were also supposed to live, were real hellholes, full of dirt and all kinds of pests.
It was not surprising that we soon became sick, and fatalities were also frequent, because there was no medical help.
The deportees with whom I stayed were all Polish. Their intellectual standing was quite high, because they were mostly families of public officials. Relations between us deportees were good, and we helped each other as best we could.
The working conditions were very tough, because while working we had to buy food for ourselves by selling clothes and other items. We were supposed to get paid for the work one day, but that day never arrived.
You could say that the attitude of the NKVD towards us was arrogant.
We were not allowed to leave the locality we had been assigned to without the knowledge of the local authorities, because they did not want us to have any contact with Russians, with whom we would have been able to communicate to some degree. The authorities did not want us to tell the Russians about our former lives in Poland, which really interested them. The Bolsheviks considered such talk hostile propaganda.
As for medical assistance, there was none. We all had to fight any disease by ourselves, so cases of death were quite frequent. Out of 25 deportees living at that kolkhoz, five died. We buried them in the steppe.
Until the Russian-German war, it was difficult to communicate with the home country, but it was possible. After the outbreak of war all contact was lost.
On 20 September 1941, on the grounds of the Polish-Russian agreement, we received documents as free Polish citizens. From that day on we were allowed to move freely from place to place and look for more profitable work, so as to earn enough money to feed ourselves and our families.
I soon found out that a Polish army was being formed in Russian territory, so I decided to enlist immediately. I left my mother and sister with very scarce food supplies and I went to join the Polish army.
With extreme financial difficulty, I arrived in the town of Lugovoy, where I was enlisted into the Polish Army.
7 March 1943