By Michael Brendan Dougherty
Friday, March 23, 2018
Almost every guy I know has a little consumerist
obsession. My boss, the right honorable Charlie Cooke, likes recording
equipment and smart home stuff. I have other friends who like customizing their
cars. When I was younger I used to be fascinated with electronic gadgets. My
mother worked for IBM, and we seemed to be early adopters of everything on the
PC front. But computers attract dust, and you throw them out in a few years.
And my own amateur attempts at writing software demystified the “magic” of
software. So I’ve turned to mechanical watches.
There’s a lot of lore about them as tools for explorers,
divers, and pilots. And sometimes the ad copy can be a little . . .
problematic. At least if you have ears that are sensitive to certain historical
references. It’s not quite as bad as I’m making it out to be. But sometimes, to
my ears, it sounds like certain brands are saying something like “Our watches
combine the craftsmanship and luxury of old world Saxony with the engineering
precision that made Warsaw a smoking ruin in 1939.”
Which is a long way of saying that this week I occupied
my spare time following developments at the big trade show for the watch
industry in Basel, Switzerland, and I finally finished Halik Kockanski’s The Eagle Unbowed: Poland and Poles in the
Second World War.
It’s hard to overstate the way that Polish feelings about
the great wars are almost inverted from the common ones in the United Kingdom
and the United States. For Western powers, the common perception is that the
First World War is at best a fratricidal slaughter, conducted for ambiguous
reasons. At worst it was the suicide of Western civilization. For Poland, that
war was the resurrection of their nation from the dead. For Western powers the
Second World War is a moment of sharp moral clarity, in which the victorious
powers defeated a truly wicked regime, and rebuilt Western Europe on surer
foundations. For Poland, it is an unrelenting nightmare. Technically, the war
was launched because the United Kingdom intended to vindicate her sovereignty.
In the end the West threw Poland to Stalin like a bone to chew on, while
investing millions to swiftly rebuild West Germany.
Kochanski gives us a brief look at the Poland that was
reborn at the Treaty of Versailles. It was bitterly funny to read British Prime
Minister Lloyd George enter the scene and express his doubts about the proposed
Polish borders because they would subject an unacceptable number of Protestant
Germans to the rule of Catholic Poles. What is unacceptable in Belfast is
unacceptable in Danzig, so carve-outs must be made. These had a democratic and
sectarian logic, but were not geopolitically sustainable.
This reborn Poland had a fighting spirit, and immediately
committed itself to a few quick wars to grab territories and cities, including
present-day Lviv, that would make it a more economically viable nation. It was
also an extremely heterogeneous nation, with many ethnic and minority
linguistic groups. It was also an underdeveloped economic backwater compared
with Western Europe.
The German and Russian attitudes toward this reborn
Poland were often hysterical. Kochanski quotes German general Hans von Steckt’s
remarks to German Chancellor Joseph Wirth around the time Germans and Russians
signed a treaty in 1922, renouncing their territorial claims against each
other:
When we speak of Poland, we come to
the kernel of the eastern problem. Poland’s existence is intolerable and
incompatible with Germany’s vital interests. It must disappear, and will
disappear through its own weakness and through Russia with our aid. . . . The
attainment of this objective must be one of the firmest guiding principles of
German policy, as it is capable of achievement — but only through Russia or
with her help. A return to the frontier of 1914 should be the basis of
agreement between Russia and Germany.
Previously, I was reading about how Germans reacted to
the dawning realization that their war was a genocidal one. That was bleak in
itself. But the dawning of this realization on the Poles is utterly
devastating. Kochanski’s account shows Polish officials struggling to make sense
at first of the peculiar ferocity of German tactics, including the deliberate
bombing of medical personnel. And then, French and British governmental
officials refuse to believe their reports, paralyzed as they were by fear of
the oncoming war, and conditioned to view Poles as melodramatic and hysterical.
Also, even if Kochanski doesn’t mention this, surely Western powers were also
slow to accept these reports because so many false and malicious images of
German brutality had featured in the early British propaganda in World War I.
Perhaps the most chilling contrast Kochanski gives us is
the view of Polish university professors and the view of Germany’s government
on education in occupied Poland. Most professors expected their schools to
start up again, even in diminished form, after Germany’s swift and successful
invasion. Poles had lived their lives under subjection before, that’s no reason
to stop schooling. But Nazi racial ideology demanded something else. Heinrich
Himmler sums up the policy here:
For the non-German population of
the East, there must be no higher school than the fourth grade of elementary
school. The sole goal of this schooling is to teach them simple arithmetic,
nothing above the number 500, writing one’s name and the doctrine that it is
divine law to obey the Germans. . . . I do not think that reading is desirable.
Germany’s racial policies, backed by its overwhelming
military power, began to infect everything in Poland. Kochanski hits on very
sensitive material when documenting the subversion of Polish defense efforts,
and the sabotaging of Polish resistance efforts by Poland’s native German
population. And the insidious way Germany policy warped choices, for people of
mixed ancestry and allegiances. The difference between German, Pole, and Jew
was immediately reflected in the food rationing: 2,600 calories per day for
Germans; 609 for Poles; 503 for Jews. Later, the Jews’ number of allotted daily
calories was reduced to 369.
Poles were cleared out of lands that the Germans deemed
too fertile for their race. One woman is said to have recalled that German
police told her not only that she would soon be herded out of her home and
placed on a cattle truck but that she needed to spend the precious moments
before this enormity tiding up, and washing the dishes, so as not to leave any
trouble for the Germans who would one day occupy her home. From another
historian, we find that it is in these months and days that the Germans
“mastered the science of human round-ups, the expropriation of property, and
the shipment of human cargo en masse to the East.” The expulsion of Poles from
the places deemed best in Poland became a kind of dress rehearsal for the
Holocaust of the Jews.
As techniques of Polish resistance became more
sophisticated, Germany responded with greater brutality, eventually instituting
its Außerordentliche Befriedungsaktion
(AB-Aktion), the organized extermination of the Polish intelligentsia. The
German commander in Poland, Hans Frank, was anxious that the war in the Western
front begin. “It is obvious that as long as this land was in the limelight
throughout the world, we were deprived of the chance of undertaking anything on
a large scale,” he noted. Although the sheer numbers of dead were dwarfed by
what the Germans would do to Jews, they represented real and serious losses for
Poland. Three thousand members of its intelligentsia, were murdered. Ten times
that number were imprisoned. Thousands of Catholic priests were also murdered.
Frank justified the ferocity by noting the real danger of
Polish resistance. Kochanski’s account is meant to depart from more-nationalist
Polish histories, but a reader can’t help but be swept up by the incredible,
dogged persistence of Polish resistance. A quisling government never came into
being. Altogether, the Poles raised four armies throughout the war. And here I
note my favorite of the militia groups Kochanski names: the Military
Organization of the Wolves.
The Soviets got in on stoking ethnic conflict as well,
dropping leaflets urging Belorussians and Ukrainians to terrorize and rob their
Polish neighbors. Some minorities welcomed invading Soviets, having formed deep
resentments against Poland during its initial state-building period after World
War I. Others sought to rescue their Polish neighbors.
And while the Soviets at first were not as fanatical
about murdering Poles, they, like the Germans, immediately set on a program of
destroying all Polish-language signage and Polish monuments. They also
instituted a draconian education policy, banning all religious schools, and
banning all instruction in history, geography, and Latin. They instituted
Belorussian and Ukrainian as the languages of education.
Similarly ham-fisted attempts at language suppression
happened in Nazi-occupied Poland, where Germans attempted to ban the use of
Polish even in the confessional booths of Catholic churches. Both armies looted
mercilessly. The Germans did so because Polish slaves were deemed to deserve
nothing. The Soviets did the same because they were amazed and scandalized by
the relative wealth of eastern Poland compared with Ukraine. Both invading
nations fixed exchange rates in their zones to enable a legal form of economic
despoliation as well.
Almost in tandem with the Nazi AB-Aktion against Polish
intellectuals, Stalin authorized the wanton massacre of captured Polish
military officers. We’ll come back to this. As they did almost everywhere they
conquered, the Soviets rounded up tens of thousands of people in Poland and
shipped them deeper into the Soviet Union, sending the men to labor camps.
Poles sent to Siberia to live in the primitive homes built by Ukranians who had
died doing the work they were now instructed to do. Poles sent to the desolate
steppes of Kazakhstan, literally abandoned at a train depot with no
instructions. NKVD officers would harass Polish women for even trying to tidy
or improve the mud huts in which they had been sentenced to live. Poles were
alike enough to Russians that Kazahks and Uzbeks would take their vengeance on
them.
For these Poles, salvation came when Hitler finally
turned on Stalin, the Sikorski–Maysky agreement secured their freedom, and a
new Polish army was organized within the Soviet Union, loyal to a Polish
government based in London. Here it is hard to overstate the unprecedented
nature of the event itself, a foreign army emerging like lightning from across
the Gulag Archipelago, even as Soviet resources were strained trying to move
their own armies west and their factories east.
One woman, Eugenia Pavlovna, left her impression of this
new army that was emerging from the labor camps: “What I saw was a collection
of skeletons covered in rugs, their feet wrapped in newspaper or dirty cloth,
kept in place with pieces of string, although many had nothing on their feet at
all.”
Another wrote:
The came exhausted, in rags,
impoverished, covered with sores, louse-infected, without hair, having come
through typhus, and resembling rather some strange creatures more than human
beings. They made their way with the last efforts of their dingily strength.
And it happened on occasion that near the station, or in the yard of the
Recruitment Commission, they expired. They died quite simply from exhaustion,
from having wasted away, on the very threshold of a new life.
Kochanski remarks: “The Polish military authorities
suspected that the Soviet authorities were deliberately releasing the sickest
men and retaining the fittest for labor.” In fact the truth was more often
worse than this. Poles who arrived reported that their compatriots who were not
turning up were in worse shape than they were — unable to make the journey — or
dead. All 3,000 Poles who had worked in the lead mines of Kamachatka died of
lead poisoning before the amnesty, Kochanski records.
Yes, Kochanski dutifully records all the lamentable and
ugly incidents of Polish national chauvinism, racism, and anti-Semitism. But I
have to admit that by the time I read of Stalin’s bluster that the military
officers the Polish government was expecting to report for duty “must have
escaped to Manchuria,” I wanted to chuck the book out my window. Is all of
modern European civilization a kind of macabre plot against Poland? How many
absurdities must one people live through, in so short a time, from such a
diverse set of sources? Every time Poland makes an ally, said ally becomes
unreliable, deceptive, and cowardly. Every time a country becomes Poland’s
enemy, its capacity for heartlessness and ferocity seems redoubled.
Imagine living life as a lower-middle-class Pole in
eastern Poland and then being dragged across the length of the Soviet Union to
arrive in the taiga of Siberia, denounced as a disgusting capitalist in front
of Ukrainians who nurse national grudges against you. Then you are called out
to join a new army, but one so poorly supplied that you must march through
Kazakhstan, looking for salvation in Iran, where the British forces can do what
the Soviet Union can’t, or won’t: feed and clothe you. Polish men kissed “the
free sand of Persia” and found themselves loaded onto boats, while Brits looked
on in horror at their condition.
Not everything was absurd. Polish pilots excelled in
their contributions to the defense of Brittish skies and became something like
war celebrities. I savored the moments later in the war when some Poles living
in Nazi-occupied Poland were able to foil the more desperate plans of their
tormenter Hans Frank, who tried to get the Poles on side against the Soviets
crashing back through the country. Frank wanted to give Poles some share in the
administration of governance. The potential Polish recruits were told by Polish
resisters of the Home Army that they could choose “between a German and a
Polish bullet.”
The contrast between Władysław Sikorski’s ambitions for a
postwar Poland and the reality that the Americans and British were preparing is
heartbreaking. After the Teheran conference, the job of the two Anglophone
governments was mostly to playact while either ignoring the diplomatic
entreaties of the Polish government in London or bullying them. Roosevelt, much
like Lloyd George, greeted Polish inquiries with uncomprehending insults and
annoyance, even implying to the Polish ambassador to the United States that
Poland’s eastern provinces might prefer to be governed by Moscow and that,
anyway, hadn’t the Poles been rude about Stalin on the “graves question,” the
massacre of officers at Katyn. Even as reports flood in of the Soviets’
arresting and shooting members of the Home Army, Churchill literally threatens
to “wash his hands of them,” them being the the Polish government, for being so
stubborn about compromising with the Soviet-dominated Lublin Committee in
Poland. Churchill imagined, or pretended to imagine, that some kind of
compromise with the Lublin Committee might save Poland from Communism.
The great irony at the end of the war was that, after a
rather limited justice was inflicted on the worst and most obvious German
malefactors, the Western allies swiftly dedicated their efforts to rebuilding
Germany as their buffer against Stalin. British public opinion was not
favorably disposed toward Poland. Kochanski notes that pro-Soviet propaganda
flowed through almost all organs of British media, and even Churchill was
proclaiming the decency of the Soviets in the House of Commons, spouting that
the “religious side of Russian life has had a wonderful rebirth” and other
ignorant babble in 1944. All of this worked to reinforce prejudices against
Polish claims. All they do is complain, don’t they?
While the Western allies dithered in talks and shirked
the Polish government that they had recognized throughout the war, Stalin
continued advancing to his fait accompli.
His officers continually arrested representatives of the native underground
government, and concluded a treaty with the puppet regime he had installed.
By this point the most realistic voice on the scene is
George Kennan, who tries to spare Henry Truman’s ambassadors from the
humiliation of cooperating with the recognition of Soviet domination over
Poland.
The devastation of Poland takes up the penultimate
chapter. Almost 20 percent of the Polish population dead by the end of the war.
Roughly 6 million in total. Ninety percent of Poland’s Jews, roughly 3 million,
were killed. Deaths of ethnic Poles were especially concentrated among the
intellectual and cultural elite. Warsaw was annihilated. The peace after the
war actually meant even more enormous population transfers, of Germans out of
Poland and Hungary into Germany, and of Ukrainians out of Poland. Survivng Jews
also migrated from Poland, many fearing popular anti-Semitism. And many Poles,
scattered across the world by the war, were being encouraged to leave, despite
an extravagant promise of citizenship from Churchill, which the British
government then restricted to men who had served under British command and
whose homes in prewar Poland had not not been annexed to other nations.
The Eagle Unbowed
does not achieve the all-knowing intimacy of The German War, which I read a few weeks ago. But it was cathartic
to read nonetheless. I’m sure we will return to my obsessions with Central and
Eastern Europe soon enough. But this was more than enough trial to read the
last few weeks. And I keep promising myself something lighter. But something
about the miserable extension of snowy weather to this late date made it all
appropriate.
Anyway, what I wanted to say after reading this is that
most of the great pilot’s watches have a strong association with the German
military, the stuff from Sinn or IWC, anyway. I think if I ever am in a
position to buy a nice one, I’ll go with a Breguet, which is associated with
the post–World War II French military. It’s more stylish too.
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