Warsaw, 15 November 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 Stefan Dioniziak
Date and place of birth 26 July 1907, Warsaw
Parents’ names Józef and Julia, née Jędrzejewska
Father’s profession office worker
Citizenship and nationality Polish
Religion Roman Catholic
Education secondary
Profession typesetter
Place of residence Warsaw, Grochów, Makowska Street 99
Criminal record none

Until 5 or 6 September [1944] (I do not remember the exact date) I was in the Powiśle district. On that day I walked over to the obstetric clinic that had been set up during the Uprising at Pierackiego Street 11 by Dr. Chełkowski. My wife was staying there.

It turned out that immediately before my arrival, Dr. Chełkowski and the entire personnel had left the hospital. The Germans gradually occupied Pierackiego Street. At this time they were already in the ophthalmological hospital and in the small palace. The women, abandoned to their own fate in the clinic, were in a state of immense panic. It was then that I and Stefan Gersz (currently resident at Pierackiego Street 13), an employee of Polpres at Pierackiego Street 11, Jerzy Rachwał, Mieczysław Wiączek, Dr. Koziorowski – an ophthalmologist (I do not know their addresses) became temporary personnel and started taking care of the patients. Our work was made additionally difficult by the fact that Dr. Chełkowski had taken all of the instruments and drugs along with him. On the next day the Germans – SS-men (their staff was located on the premises of the Polish Red Cross hospital) – occupied the whole of Pierackiego Street. Having established themselves, the SS-men took Dr. Koziorowski and myself to the barricades, where we were used as human shields. However, we managed to escape. Next, the Germans summoned Dr. Koziorowski to the gate, ordering him to attend to a wounded German who was lying there. The doctor gave him a temporary dressing. In order not to weaken the barricade, the SS commander ordered us to carry the wounded soldier to the Polish Red Cross hospital. We went there under the escort of a single SS-man. The German soldier died along the way. We took him to the morgue. A lieutenant whom we stumbled upon near the morgue ordered the SS-man to lead us to the barricade. However, due to the intervention of a Volksdeutsch who had joined us, this order was not carried out. The SS-man took us to the command headquarters located in a house at Czerwonego Krzyża Street, the third building from Dobra Street, in order to receive instructions as to what he was supposed to do with us. While waiting for a decision, I saw SS-men leading a man who had been dragged from the National Museum; he was being beaten up by a Volksdeutsch. Finally, the man was finished off with a plank of wood.

On the next day Pierackiego Street 11 was occupied by a first-aid post from Wolf’s group. The captain of the post, the staff physician of the group, assisted us. From this moment on we had food and the requisite equipment.

On 28 September 1944 at 08.00 a.m. the Germans commenced the evacuation of the clinic. Patients were taken on trucks – apparently to a hospital in the Wola district, while the healthy proceeded on foot. I, together with my wife, sons and a few other persons, remained in the clinic. Around noon we were sitting in the captain’s quarters. One of the drivers working for the clinic, Fabian Oskard from Pabianice near Łódź, suddenly remembered that there were some decent shoes in the basement, which he wanted to take with him. I accompanied him down to the basement. There we came upon two Volksdeutsch women who had been arrested by the insurgents, but had managed to flee to the clinic. Fabian shot at them. One was able to run away, but he killed the other with a few bursts. Hearing shots, the lieutenant – the captain’s deputy – ran down from the quarters. He mangled the body with his boot-heels. We exited the basement. An old man was standing on the stairs; he was the paternal uncle of one of the female nurses. Fabian shot at him a few times, too, shouting: “Jude!”, and thereafter fired at a female nurse who emerged from one of the basement corridors. However, he did not kill the nurse. The captain dressed her wounds and sent her away, apparently to a hospital.

At this point the report was brought to a close and read out.