Losie (Nowy Sacz County, Poland) During Akcja Visla, my own Lemko family was deported from the village of Losie (Nowy Sacz County) to the devasted, former German lands in western Poland (near Wroclaw, which used to be Breslau, Germany). And yes, it was truly a horrid, gut-wrenching experience that no one should ever have to endure.



It was a beautiful, sunny summer day in peaceful Losie in June of 1947. The hills and pastures were green, the forests lush, and the flowers a burst of every color in the rainbow. Then out of nowhere, and without any warning, soldiers invaded the village, running from house to house, pounding on doors with their rifle butts and shouting orders for everyone to pack up what they could carry and be ready to evacuate the village--in just 30 minutes. The Lemko villagers had no idea what was happening or why, and no explanations were given.



After the villagers were all together, they were surrounded by armed soldiers and led to a train station quite a distance away. Young and old, the villagers walked, sat on a wagon, or rode in trucks for many miles and hours.



At the train station, villagers were split up--a few this way, a few over there--and directed by the soldiers to waiting cattle cars, where they were packed in with other families like sardines. Any livestock they happened to bring along was loaded in as well. People on one side of the car, animals on the other.



It was all very efficient. Some time later, the car doors were slammed and bolted shut. They would remain that way for the rest of the journey. For many, this would be the last time they would ever see their beautiful homeland again.



The boxcar had no windows, no toilet facilities, and no food or water (except what people brought with them). There was nowhere to sit or sleep except the floor. It was sweltering hot. No breeze. No fresh air. No cooling off in the evenings. There was no privacy to do the normal things a body needs to do. And the people went days and sometimes a week or more without seeing daylight.



It wasn't long before the closed-in air became unbearably foul with the stench of farm animals, sweating people, animal and human excrement, people vomiting. Illness and disease soon became rampant. But there was no medicine. The attitude of those in charge was simply "if they die, they die"--which many did.



Pregnant women lost their babies or died in childbirth. With no food or water, new mothers could't produce enough milk to feed their babies, and the babies died. Other mothers starved themselves to death in order to feed their children. The days, nights, weeks, months were filled with the agonizing cries of hungry children and babies, the moans of the sick and dying, and the sobs

of the family members who lost them. To make things even worse, dead bodies stayed in the closed boxcar until the next stop--which could be as long as a week. During the stop, the people would scurry to look for anything that might be edible or a drop of water.



The trains carrying the Lemkos were in no hurry. Any time another train a distance away might need access to a crossing along the Lemko train's path, the Lemko train would stop and wait until the other train passed by. And when the Lemko train needed to change tracks, the engineers took their good old time while the people sat sweltering inside the boxcars.



It's reported that some engineers played games with their Lemko passengers. One game was to repeatedly speed up the train and suddenly put on the brakes, which would toss the people and animals in the cars around and on top of each other. If you suffered a broken bone, too bad. Another game was to stop at the Auschwitz concentration camp and open the doors to scare the

passengers into thinking they were going there to be gassed. This frightened the people inside the cars so much that, in their frenzy to move to the back of the car, they actually trampled other people in the car to death.



Some Lemkos tried to escape but were usually captured, beaten, or shot. In the end, a journey that might normally take four to five hours took up to three months. Imagine three months locked up with all that.



My family finally reached it's resettlement village in September. The area was pretty devastated by the bombing and fierce fighting that had taken place there during the war. And the landscape was barren and flat -- not anything like beautiful Lemkovyna.



The father was given the choice of three houses for his family of seven. He picked the best one--a two-room house with no roof, no windows, no stove, no electricity, no furniture, no heat -- nothing. But it did have four walls. Since most of the floorboards had been torn up, the family slept on floorboards or the dirt floor until they could scrape together enough remnants or money to start fixing things.



The parents and older children tried to find work. But, at first, no one would hire them. This wasn't because the Poles were bad people. It was because of what else had been happening at the time.



You see, Western Poland was where the Eastern Poles (whose lands ended up being attached to Ukraine) were resettled when they were permitted to return to Poland. But when the Lemkos were deported from Lemkovyna and being sent to Western Poland, these same Eastern Poles got uprooted again--this time to resettle in Lemko villages that were now vacant. Imagine how the Poles must have felt. It wasn't fair either way. Unfortunately, some of the Eastern Poles were so angry, they burned down their houses before they left so that the Lemkos couldn't have them.



So it was already a hostile atmosphere before the Lemkos ever arrived. The Western Poles had probably never seen a Lemko before and didn't know anything about them--other than thinking the Lemkos were to blame for the Eastern Poles being sent away and were coming to take their place. Lemkos were complete strangers--and not one of their own. (And we all know the attitude toward

"outsiders" even in the U.S. at that time.)



When the Lemkos finally arrived and got off the train, they were dirty and stinking from their long journey --and probably had few clean or untattered clothes to change into even later. They had lice and were covered with sores. And because the Lemkos had so little, they were probably looked like beggars and thieves. So besides being pre-disposed to not liking the Lemkos, the Poles didn't trust them either.



To make matters worse, the Lemkos spoke a different language that was certainly wasn't Polish. So to the Poles, the Lemko weren't even Polish. But the language problem was short-lived because the government had forbidden the Lemkos from speaking the Lemko language. So the Lemkos had to learn to speak Polish (or Russian) very quickly.



The government also singled out the Lemkos in other ways. Lemkos were forbidden to identify themselves as Lemkos, to read Lemko literature, to practice their Lemko traditions, to wear anything that might identify them as Lemko. Getting caught doing so meant punishment or even death. (Yet many brave families managed to secretly keep their "Lemko-ism" alive behind the doors of their own homes.)



To the Poles, the Lemkos were also different because they were Greek Catholic -- not Roman Catholic like the rest of Poland. (During Soviet times, in Poland, unlike Slovakia, the Roman Catholic Church was tolerated.) Since there were no Greek Catholic churches in Western Poland when the Lemkos arrived, the Lemkos usually went to the local Roman Catholic church -- or no church at all. They (like all poor Poles) couldn't afford a car or gasoline to travel to one of the few Orthodox churches a distance away.



But not all local Poles treated the Lemkos badly. Some were very kind to their new neighbors and tried to help them out--a chicken here, some eggs there, a few scraps of wood, an old mattress, some handyman work, etc. And the Lemkos quickly proved to be good workers.



Gradually, the ethnic Lemkos and ethnic Poles started getting along -- and a number eventually inter-married (which was not surprising given that many Lemkos attended Roman Catholic churches.) But, unfortunately, there are still those who carry hard feelings from those days to the present.



I first realized the importance of my Lemko traditions the first time I stayed with my Lemko relatives in 1998. We were sitting around the table, eating and drinking (what else?). Then my relatives started singing Lemko songs I recalled from my childhood, and without realizing it, I started singing

along. Suddenly, an older cousin (who resembles Archie Bunker) started to cry. When I asked why, I learned that he was so moved to learn that Lemkos who had emigrated to America had kept the Lemko traditions alive during all those years that the Lemkos in Poland were forbidden to do so.



Most of the Lemkos I've met in Poland consider themselves Polish citizens of Lemko extraction/ethnicity. But the further east you go, I notice an increasing number of Lemkos with the Ukrainian orientation.) But ethnicity doesn't ever seem to come up except among Lemkos. On the other hand, how often does the question of ethnicity comes up in the workplace or normal day-to-day conversations?



To really understand how strong the Lemko identity is in Poland today, you have to attend one of the Lemko Vatras held there every summer. The one I've been to (and will be attending again this August as part of the Lemko Tour) is held outside the town of Michalow in western Poland. It's called the Vatra of Lemkos in Exile. Its purpose is to bring the Lemkos together to celebrate the ongoing survival of the Lemko people and their Lemko heritage. (Another Lemko vatra of Ukrainian orientation is held in Zdnya--in June, I believe.)



Throngs of Lemkos from all over Poland and other countries attend this festive reunion -- young and old alike. There are on-going performances by young school children, teenagers, and adults -- all singing, dancing and playing Lemko music. One particularly well-known high-school-aged group is called "Lemkovyna," (which practices in Gorlice.) But the most popular and well-known ensemble is "Kychera," headquartered in Legnica, which performs all over the world.



There are several grammar schools starting up in Poland that teach the Lemko language and culture -- and more are coming. There are Lemko organizations and Lemko newspapers (written in the Lemko language, not Polish.) I could go on and on, but there is considerably more Lemko activism going on in Poland than you may think. And I'm only aware of some of it.



Now that isn't to say that all of Poland knows (or cares) about the Lemkos or considers them equals. Lemkos are still a minority in Poland, and they are generally looked upon the same way many minorities are looked upon here in the U.S. But again, things are changing as Lemkos get more publicity -- some good, some not. For example, a town in northwestern Poland (I can't recall the name) recently dedicated the town or town tower to the Lemkos.



While Akcja Visla has finally been acknowledged by the Polish government, it's still kind of hush-hush. Lemkos have been allowed to petition to have their land returned to them, or to be reimbursed for the land and possessions taken away from them. But there's a lot of red tape and it can be costly.



As for Lemkos being "hillbillies," actually, we are. (But not necessarily with the same connotation that we think of hillbillies here.) After all, our people did come from remote areas of the mountains. In fact, there's another breed of hillbillies practically next door to Lemkovyna called Podhale -- the area of the High Tatras in Poland (e.g. Zakopane) and Slovakia (e.g. Stara Lubovna) -- where the Gorale live. But the Gorale call themselves Highlanders. So maybe we Lemkos should call ourselves Lowlanders!



As for Lemkos being poor and uneducated, that has changed. The one good thing the Soviets did for our people was to give them a good education -- including University. Yes, it's still hard for many people in Poland to make a good living these days -- particularly if they live in small, out-of-the-way villages. And people on pensions have a tough time. But we've got the same thing here. And since becoming a member of the EU, things in Poland have gotten much better.



Some Lemkos have already become very successful. For example, about 10 or so years ago, a young Lemko couple, Jan and Janina Kopcza, bought an old, rundown villa in Legnica that used to house Russian military officers when Russians lived in Legnica. The Kopcza's completely restored the place to its original elegance--and received Poland's top architectural award. The villa is now an inn and four-star restaurant where you can sit outside on the patio and dine surrounded by magnificent gardens.



Halina and Andrezj Malecky are Lemkos from central Lemkovyna (Gorlice County.) During the year, they are school teachers. In the summer, they lead individual tours of Lemkovyna (which are usually booked well in advance.)



As far as the languages Lemkos speak, I guess it depends on which part of Poland they lived in. The Lemko adults I know who would have been attending school during the Soviet era have spoke Polish since Akcja Visla. But they probably learned Russian in school. In Western Poland, they also speak German --and in eastern Lemkovyna, Ukrainian. There's an increasing number of Lemkos who speak English --particularly in the cities and in the younger generations.



So, hopefully, if you've had the patience or interest to have read all of his, you will have a greater appreciation of and increased pride in what our people have suffered, what they overcame, and the strength it took to climb up from minus 0 to where they are today. That's the sort of spirit that's represented by the bear in the Rusyn emblem. Nancy nsrevak@aol.com

------------------------------------ Polish Home Army - Operation Vistula Beria reported to Stalin on 17th May 1945 (Hastings, 2005) that twenty

AK units compromising of 6,000 men and women were in a desperate battle

of survival against the communist regime’s armed forces in eastern parts

of Poland. In the melee of active former partisans were 4,000 men of the

Ukrainian Patriotic Army (UPA) operating in the remote Bieszczady

Mountains on the new border between Poland and the Ukraine. Stalin used

the opportunity to send 5 NKVD regiments and in addition 3 regiments of

NKVD Frontier Guards to ‘liberate’ the countryside from the ‘bandits’.

The UPA was eventually crushed in 1947 by a coalition of the newly

formed Polish Communist Army, Soviet and Czechoslovak units. About 0.5m

survivors of Operation Wisla were forced to migrate to the artificially

re-created provinces of Warmia and Mazury. This oppressive action has

remained a ‘dark’ episode in Poland’s recent history. In effect the region was fighting a civil war (Davies, 2001; 2003) from

1944 until 1947. The ‘West’ knew little of it and had abandoned its ally

Poland to concentrate on rebuilding their war shattered economies and

hanging onto shrinking empires. However, the term ‘civil war’ masked the

true objective and that was to use brute force to subjugate those who

dreamed of freedom and democracy. Davies (2001; 2003) estimated there

might have been up to 40 to 50,000 underground fighters in the field

with the Soviet backed security forces losing 18,000 men. http://www.polandinexile.com/vistula.html Submitted by Laurence Krupnak lkrupnak@verizon.net

