Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1954-08-18

QlOIl CUIuC, Lie SdltSWdy was
full of armed harbor guards and
WOP (frontier guard. The
deck lights were turned on. the
turbines started to turn and the
boat sailed.
I left the dock filled with dark
thoughts. Poverty reigned in
the home Of my parents. who
never knew of my plans to
escape. Hitherto my earnings
represented a substantial part of
the family income. From now
on. was supposed to be sup
ported by my 70-year-old father
who is a cement mixer on docks
and jetties. His earnings total
300 zloties monthly. CA zloty is
valued at Is cents under the
official rate, but this does not
truly represent its purchasing
power.-Ed. Note). This is not
much when a kilo of meat costs
IS zloties and a pair of medium
quality shoes 600 zloties. A suit
made half of wool and half of
cotton costs 1900 zloties. ] went
home and ! will remember that
dark snowy night all my life.
A cold wind blew from the sea.
/ thought Of suicide, but my re-
solve turned into a determines
ton to escape at the first Dos
sible opportunity.
Couldn't Get Decent Job.
That didn't come too soon. In
the meantime, I tried to work
here and there just to make a
couple of zloties. but, as a sus-
pect, would not get any decent
job. was bitter at heart when
saw any member of the secret
police, ordinary police, port
guard or customs officials to me.
an Insignificant young man, they
represented the Communist re-
gime.
That was reality. On the one
hand, there was them" On the
other. myself, jobless because 1
wasn't their" man. I didn't
want to become a snooper and
was not a Communist.
This is Communist peoples
Poland.
But on July %, was luckier.
l spent the whole day watching
the Jaroslaw Dabrowski load
again. There were bales of wood
pulp. crates of sugar and vodka
Our food being sent abroad
from hungry Poland" I thought.
7 ran home quickly and had a
snack. put on my sailors jack
ct and cap, and crammed my old
seaman's book into my pocket.
walked onto the gangway
showing the port guard a corner
OF my sailors book. He let me
through. I was on deck. In the
rush of loading. nobody recog-
nized me and nobody asked me
anything.
Pretended to Be Crewman,
I stepped into the corridor
and turned into the first sea-
mans cabin. On the wall hung
some boiler suits. I put one of
them on and then saw a little
notebook and pen on the desk.
I took them.
An idea came to me. I stepped
on to the deck. pretending to be
a member of the crew checking
the cargo. At about 8 pm. I
went to the Mushroom and drank
some water. I drank well and
full. This was to be the last
drop OF water to pass my lips
until I arrived in London.
Once again I slipped across
the deck and jumped into hold
No. 8. Jumping from crate to
crate I reached the bottom and
found a quite comfortable hiding
place between bales of wood
pulp. Above me hung 800 bales
OF wool, above them crates of
vodka, sugar and other COM
moditieS, crowned with furniture
Polish exports to England. I
hadn't even a bit of bread not
drop of water, even cigarette.
During the preceding weeks I
had been unemployed and my
pockets were empty. I hadn't
wanted to ask my mother for
money. She would have asked
me why I wanted it, and I didn't
like to tell her about my escape
plans. Actually nobody in Gdynia
knew of them.
Hours passed. Midnight. The
ship started to move. was on
my way to England. Was it to
be the way to freedom?
The engines started to turn
over quickly and realized we
were on the open sea.