1. On Thursday the 28th
September1939,
followingmore thantwoweeksof Germanair
assaultand siege,General WalerianCzuma,
GarrisonCommanderof the Polishforcesin
Warsaw,accepteddefeat.
EventhoughGerman radiohad announced
the fall of Warsaw as earlyas the 8th
September, Czumahadwithstoodthe assault,
despite complete Germanair& ground
superiority, for20 days, butnow final
destructionwasall butcertain.
The followingday Czumaled180,000 of his
mostcourageous,buthopelesslyoutgunned,
comrades fromWarsaw’sshatteredgarrison
and intoGermancaptivity. Czumahimself
wouldremainaprisonerof the Nazisfor
nearlysix years until,inearly1945, the
AmericansliberatedOflagVllA,Murnau.
Now,presumably, Czumawouldbe anxiousto
returnhome to Poland.ButEurope in1945,
was a continentof displacement,notjust
people butwhole nationsuprootedand
unsure if any there was any home to whichto
return.And,more troublesome for
some,Czumawasanational hero.
The Soviets,now replacedGermanyin
occupationof Poland, andthey wanted
nothingof Polishpatriots, whomaybecome
figureheadsfornationalistsentimentand
future uprisings. Czuma&hisColonel
brother, Władysław,saw theirPolish
nationallyrevokedandjoinedthe millionsof
others displaced,free,butwithnohome togo
to.
It isa greatcreditto the UK that,havingstood
alone againstHitler’saggression,bankrupted
and exhausted tohelpfree the peoplesof
occupiednations,we providedahome forso
manywho no longer had a ‘home’. For
Walerian& Władysław Czuma,home wasto
be the townof Penley, nearWrexham, North
Wales.
In July2004 I leftLondonearly,wishingtobe
inWrexhamintime for the cremation service.
Months earlierIhadthe honourof being
tasked,byWarsaw CityCouncil,withbringing
the herobrothershome. The exhumationhad
takenplace earlythat morningandinchapel
withme now were three membersof the
Polish Communityof NorthWalesandtheir
residentchaplain,whotook ashortservice. A
simple wreath wasplaced onthe lidof each
coffin,inRed& White,the coloursof a newly
free Poland.
Afterthe service Ihad time,before the
crematedremainswouldbe readytotake
back to London,fora visittothe quiet
moorlandroadsabove Wrexham. Ihadn’t
plannedtodo thisas,for some reason,Ihad
Wrexhammarkedas an Industrial town

2. withoutinterestoranyotherreasonto me to
stay awhile.ButIpulledmycar off the open
road, andwalkeda fewyardsoversheep
croppedgrass that wouldlookgoodona
golfinggreen,toaflat toppedrockperfectfor
sittingandlooking. Isat & looked. I
wonderedwhathadbroughtthe heroof
Warsaw to thisplace?The viewwassupreme,
the LowerDee Valleyinperfect,summer
greenanda vividBlue skywithalmost
artificiallyfluffywhiteclouds. The whole of
Wrexhamcouldbe seenfromhere andthe
stone onwhichI sat, placedsostrategically,I
wonderedif ithadbeenplacedhere justfor
thispurpose.
In fact I wasso sure it wastoo good tobe true
I checkedthe base of the rock to see anysigns
of ithavingbeenbroughttothisspot.What I
noticedwasa grey/white gritpouredontothe
groundmarkinga thinraisedline aroundthe
circumference of the rock.Asa Funeral
DirectorI recognisedthis‘grit’ asthe final
restingplace of someone elsewhomusthave
sat & looked.Theypickedagoodspot.
Despite the beautyof the surroundingsIstill
ponderedlife’sabilitytoprovidethe
unexpectedcourse.Fromthe Prussianfront
to the outskirtsof WrexhamviaWarsaw in
Europe’sdarkesthour.
A weeklatermycolleague (Boss)& I sat ona
LOT PolishAirlinesflightfromLondonto
Warsaw.We each carriedan Oak Casket
containingthe remainsof aPolishhero.
Christophercarriedthe casketcontainingthe
remainsof the General;Icarried the casketof
hisColonel Brother.
I had notbeenrequestedtomake thisvisitin
personbutfeltitwas the rightthingto do. I
felthonouredtobe the one to bringthe
General home tothe city he tried,invain,to
save 65 yearsbefore.Italsofeltrightthat the
countrythat gave him a home in1945 should
do thisnow and complete the circle.
As the aircrafttaxiedtowardsthe terminal the
Captainmade an announcement –would
Michael Gill & ChristopherHenleyplease
remainonboard whistthe remaining
passengersdisembark.Somethinghadbeen
arranged.
Boy,had it beenarranged!
The aircraft arrivedat the centre of the apron
and swungthrough180 degreesandstopped.
As itmade thisturn a full militaryreception
committee came intoview,withmilitary
band,Regimental banners,VIPguests,
photographersandthe local TV Newscrew.
The man sat nextto me (Window seat) tookin
thisimpressivedisplayandgasped,‘MyGod,
whohave theycome to meet?’ Icouldn’thave
planneditif I tried.
‘I ratherthinkitmay be me’I replied,
consciousthatit was notreallyme at all.It
remainsa vividmemory,sittinglookingout
overthe crowdedapron withmyfellow
passengersizingme upandtryingto work
whoor what I was?
Whenthe otherpassengershadleftthe
aircraft andboardedtheircouchesforthe
terminal we were requestedtobringour
casketsto the aircraft door.There we were
metby survivingrelativesof eachof the
brothers, we handedoverourchargesand, at
the footof the aircraft stairs,General &
Colonel Czumaarrivedonce more onPolish
soil.

3. Now,withthe newscrewfocussedelsewhere,
we were whiskedoff,throughthe backgate
and on to Warsaw.
We didn’tattendthe reburial atPowązki
MilitaryCemetery,partlybecauseIfeltit
shouldbe a purelyPolishaffair,butmainly
because we haddecidedtomake a visitto
Auschwitz,acouple of hoursawayby train.
I can safelysaythat Auschwitzisthe most
effectingplace Ihave everbeen.Everyone
shouldgothere and see forreal what we all
have seeninprintand onTV.
Whenwe arrived we foundtwoschool parties
justarrived.Teenagersonaboisterousday
tripof the sort I once had to LondonZoo. I
wasn’tsure thiswas a suitable place forsuch
a visit.
Most people knowaboutAuschwitz,what
happenedthere,whatyouwill seewhenyou
visit.The ‘Arbeitmachtfrei’signoverthe
entrance (laterstolen),the guardtowers&
electricfencesand,above all,the pilesand
pilesof artefactsstoredbehindPerspex
partitionsinthe formerdormitories.
SuitcaseswithJewishsoundingnameswritten
uponthem,hair,spectaclesand,forsome
reasonthe most hauntingof all,shoes.A
moundsix feethigh,fromone side of the
room to the other,of shoestakenfromthose
aboutto enterthe gas chambers.At the top
of the pile,atinypairof child’s sandals,
unbuckled…
My reservationsaboutthe school parties
were sweptaside.Myabidingmemoryisof
the momentwhen,havingkeptameasured
control of myself,aschoolgirl,sobbingopenly
and uncontrollably,wasledpastthe doorof
the room I wasin by a school friend,himself,
onlyjustkeepingfrompublicbreakdown.
That, and the sandalsbroke me andI will
neverforgetthe moment. Ifound the school
friendslater, sittingonthe kerb outside the
building,holdingeachotherandcrying
unashamedly.
Everyschool shouldmake thisvisit.
I thoughtaboutthe rock above Wrexhamand
the impossiblyfluffycloudsinthe perfectblue
summerskyand I thought,whateveritwas
that broughtGeneral ValerianCzumatothat
place, I’msure he must have beengrateful.