Warsaw Uprising
Warsaw’s Little Insurgent stands guard in the Old Town (p.34).
Considering the epic scale of the bloodshed, and how brutal Hitler’s tactics were in subjugating and eliminating each and every ethnic group, it’s little surprise Poland gave birth to Europe’s largest resistance movement. By July 1944 the Red Army led by Marshal Rokossovsky had reached the Wisła, and on July 22 Nazi Governor of Warsaw Ludwig Fischer ordered the evacuation of German civilians from Warsaw; sensitive papers were torched and destroyed, trains screeched westwards and all the signs suggested liberation was but days away. German intelligence was aware that an uprising was possible, yet nothing seemed clear cut. Fischer’s appeals for 100,000 Poles to present themselves to work on anti-tank defences were ignored, as were broadcasts reminding the Poles of their heroic battle against Bolshevism in 1923. Tensions increased with Red Army leaflet drops urging Varsovians to arms, and were further exacerbated on July 30th with a Soviet radio announcement declaring, “People of the capital! To arms! Strike at the Germans! May your million strong population become a million soldiers, who will drive out the German invaders and win freedom.” Still, like boxers prowling the ring, each side appeared locked in a waiting game, so much so that German military dispatches on the afternoon of August 1, 1944 concluded with, “Warschau ist kalm.” Warsaw was anything but.
Within days German reinforcements started pouring in, and on August 5th and 6th Nazi troops rampaged through the western Wola district, massacring over 40,000 men, women and children in what would become one of the most savage episodes of the Uprising. It was to prove a mixed first week for the Poles. In liberated areas, behind the barricades, cultural life thrived – over 130 newspapers sprang up, religious services were celebrated and a scoutrun postal service was introduced. Better still, the first allied airdrops hinted at the support of the west. As it turned out, this was just papering over the cracks. The Germans, under the command of Erich von dem Bach, replied with heavy artillery, aerial attacks, armoured trains and tanks. Even worse, the practice of using Polish women as human shields was quickly introduced. The insurgents were a mixed bag, featuring over 4,000 women in their ranks, a unit of Slovaks, scores of Jews liberated from a Warsaw concentration camp, a platoon of deaf and dumb volunteers led by an officer called Yo Yo, and an escaped English prisoner of war called John. Fantastically ill-equipped, the one thing on their side was an almost suicidal fanaticism and belief. Casualties were almost 20 times as high as those inflicted on the Germans, yet the Poles carried on the fight with stoic self-assurance. Airdrops were vital if the uprising was to succeed, though hopes were scuppered with Stalin’s refusal to allow Allied planes landing rights in Soviet-held airports. Instead the RAF set up a new route running from the Italian town of Brindisi to Warsaw, though casualty rates proved high with over 16% of aircraft lost, and the drops often inaccurate – one such mission concluding with 960 canisters out of a 1,000 falling into German hands. All hopes, it seemed, rested on the Russians. After six weeks of inaction Rokossovsky finally gave the go-ahead for a Polish force under General Berling to cross the river and relieve the insurgents. The operation was a debacle, with heavy casualties and no headway made. For the Russians, this single attempt at crossing the Wisla
On orders from General Tadeusz ‘Bor’ Komorowski 5pm signalled W-Hour (‘Wybuch’ standing for outbreak), the precise time when some 40,000 members of the Home Army would attack key German positions. Warsaw at the time was held by a garrison of 15,000 Germans, though any numerical supremacy the Poles could count on was offset by a chronic lack of weapons. Nonetheless the element of surprise caught the Germans off guard, and in spite of heavy losses the Poles captured a string of strategic targets, including the Old Town, Prudential Tower (then the tallest building in Poland), and the post office. The first day cost the lives of 2,000 Poles, yet for the first time since occupation the Polish flag fluttered once more over the capital. Hitler, meanwhile, was roused out of his torpor, screaming for “No prisoners to be taken,” and “Every inhabitant to be shot.” 15
