Rising '44: The Battle for Warsaw (92 page)

Specialists in émigré affairs have unearthed much information about Tabor’s dubious dealings. But the point of most general interest concerns the dilemma of people from the Soviet bloc who held left-wing opinions but who nonetheless wanted to maintain a modicum of independence for themselves and their country. Different sorts of left-wingers reacted in different ways. Premier Thomas, for example, had impeccable socialist credentials, but he was convinced that the Popular Front-type of solution would not work in countries where the Communist minority was backed by an all-powerful army and police. Tabor and his associates, in contrast, seem to have held unusually positive views about Stalin’s benevolence and, hence, to have overrated the prospects for Stalin’s tolerance of ‘national Communists’ like Comrade Gomulka. In pursuing this line, they involved themselves in large measures both of deception and self-deception. In the end, they found themselves out of step not only with former colleagues in London, but also with the ‘comrades’ back home. For this, they paid a heavy price.

At the same time, one cannot fail to notice that Tabor’s political views coincided with those of many Britons with whom he would have come into contact. He was certainly very well viewed by the Foreign Office, who, by the same token, virtually boycotted the exiled Government in its final phase under Premier Thomas. Whether or not he was drawn into active cooperation with the British special services is another matter. What
is
known is that Kim Philby’s supposedly anti-Soviet department of MI6 made much use of Polish agents and that a distressingly large proportion of them were quickly eliminated by Communist counterintelligence. Gen. Tabor’s decision to depart for Poland permanently, even when the political trends there were not moving in his preferred direction, can perhaps be explained by the fact that the Government-in-Exile was belatedly investigating his many irregularities. The net was closing.

There remains the intriguing puzzle of Tabor’s private manipulation of radio communications with Poland, both during and after the war. According to the OC at Barnes Lodge, unauthorized messages were both
sent and received. In 1944, they were probably linking him with someone to the east of the Vistula. If so, his correspondents have not been identified.

Since Poland was closed both to serious history-writing and to free debate, information about the Warsaw Rising could only circulate freely in the outside, Western world; and this was the decade when everyone was writing their war memoirs. The Rising was still fresh in the minds of the various Western leaders who had been involved, and it was the prime topic of controversy among those former insurgents who were trying to establish themselves abroad. London remained the principal centre for discussion. But from 1947, the
Kultura
Literary Institute began its sterling work in Paris, publishing both the influential monthly
Kultura
and, with some greater delay, the
Historical Notebooks
. And in 1951, the US-funded Radio Free Europe began broadcasting from Munich. The long-term director of RFE’s Polish section was none other than the legendary ‘Courier from Warsaw’, Novak, who had made his last trip to Poland on the very eve of the Rising. The information battle had begun in earnest.

Winston Churchill was the only one of the ‘Big Three’ to write his war memoirs, which were immensely influential in the English-speaking world. Like all politicians, he did not indulge in much self-criticism. But no one could have been more acutely aware than he of the Varsovian tragedy:

Former war correspondents who had served at the front were well placed to publish the earliest surveys of the war as a whole. Chester Wilmot, for example, who had accompanied the British and American armies on the Continent, wrote his bestselling
Struggle for Europe
in 1952. He had not
been to Warsaw, so his account of the Rising was based on the most readily available opinions and press reports. It was contained in a single paragraph and was suitably sceptical:

Supply difficulties and the arrival of German reinforcements . . . prevented the Russians from breaking into Warsaw and joining forces with the Polish Underground, which had risen in revolt at the start of August. In their eagerness to gain control of the capital before the entry of the Red Army, the Poles had risen prematurely. But it is hardly likely that the Russians would have allowed themselves to be halted at the gates of the city if the insurrection had been raised by the Polish Communists and not by [the] Home Army, which was hostile to Communism and to the Soviet Union. In the circumstances, Stalin may well have been content to hand his military opponents the task of wiping out his political enemies.
²⁶

Alexander Werth, who had reported for the
Guardian
and the
Sunday Times
from the Eastern Front, possessed much more first-hand information. He was no more privy to the key decisions than anyone was, but he had seen the Warsaw tragedy develop at close quarters. In his
Russia at War
(1964), he challenged the findings of the official Soviet History in detail, and he reached conclusions that have stood the test of time:

It might, of course, be argued that if the Russians had wished to capture Warsaw
at any price
. . . they might conceivably have captured it. But this would have upset their other military plans . . .

There is no question but that the Warsaw rising was a last desperate attempt to free Poland’s capital from the retreating Nazis and at the same time to prevent the Lublin administration from establishing itself . . .

Once more in Poland’s history this valiant struggle for independence was defeated by the overriding, although conflicting, great-power interests of other states. Still, with Moscow determined . . . to control the future destinies of Poland, [Boor] would have been eliminated one way or another, just as they managed a few years later to rid themselves of [ex-Premier Mick].
²⁷

Since the only Briton present in Warsaw in 1944 did not write his memoirs, there were no British eyewitness accounts of the Rising to be read. But the next best thing, certainly in emotional terms, was penned in
1951 by Maj. Mur in his memoir of the Freston Mission. His tone was contrite:

On the Polish side, two memoirs were particularly significant. Gen. Boor’s
The Secret Army
was published in English in 1951. Directed at a readership that was not familiar with Polish affairs, it sought to set down the facts in a brusque and soldierly fashion. A preview was published in
Reader’s Digest
under the title of ‘The Unconquerables’. The Rising occupied only part of the story, and elicited no apologies. Boor’s stance was very similar to that of Bear Cub. He and his soldiers had simply been fulfilling their patriotic duty. They viewed the Rising as just one chapter in a struggle that started in September 1939.
²⁹
Another memoir, in contrast, which appeared in 1954, served as an introduction to the politics and workings of the Underground State. One of the chapters was devoted to the Rising.
³⁰

In 1946, the Government-in-Exile set up a Historical Commission whose task was to research, document, and publicize all aspects of the war in Poland. The commission was joined shortly after by the Polish Underground Studies Trust in Ealing, an independent foundation, whose labours were specifically directed to the records of clandestine operations. These two organizations were to stay hard at work for the rest of the century.

Since history in ‘People’s Poland’ was shackled, the first works specifically devoted to the Warsaw Rising could only be published abroad. André P.’s
Warsaw Rising
(1945) heads the list. It was solidly based on documents from the wartime Government’s archives, and was informed by a firm commitment to the cause of Polish freedom which the insurgents had shared. Necessarily short, it rebutted the usual criticisms that had filled the press, and was far superior to many much larger volumes that followed.

Another short but well-informed study appeared in Canada on the tenth anniversary of the Rising. Subtitled
The First Conflict of the Cold War
,
it was inspired by the emotions provoked by the international tensions of the mid-1950s, and consequently it concentrated in large measure on a very negative assessment of Soviet policy. It concluded with ‘Warsaw’s Warning to the World’:

There are already many more ruins in the world, numerous other nations have also lost their freedom, and peace is still far from being achieved. Let the tragic experience of Warsaw be a warning about the real objects of Soviet policy to all countries which are still free.
³¹

Whilst the Varsovians rebuilt their city, and the Government-in-Exile dug in for a long sojourn in London, many of the ex-insurgents sought to create a new life for themselves wherever they could find it. The majority of them were young, tough, and glad to be alive. But they were also on the loose in a variety of foreign countries. Having lost the chance of an education during the war, they mostly lacked qualifications; they were not usually proficient in foreign languages; and they were separated from their friends and families. They had survived the Rising and the POW camps. And they now faced a challenge of a totally different kind. They needed to study; they needed companionship; and they needed the prospect of somewhere permanent to live and work. Their search would take them, quite literally, to all ends of the earth. Generally speaking, their experiences proved to be much more profitable than those of their older compatriots.

Like other displaced persons and refugees, few Varsovians cast adrift in 1945 thought initially of permanent emigration. On the contrary, there was to begin with a strong feeling that the chaotic arrangements which prevailed at the war’s end would somehow be sorted out and improved. After all, Warsaw, though wrecked, was still in Poland. The so-called Government of National Unity was still only ‘provisional’. Elections were due. The United Nations was still to assemble. The post-war Peace Conference had not been officially abandoned. So the obvious policy was to wait and see: and while waiting, to study for a diploma, to earn some money, to learn a language, to marry, or even to see the world.

Britain, where the largest concentration of Poles resided, offered the best chances for a quick post-war education. Two centres in particular offered courses for Polish ex-servicemen. One of them, at the University of Edinburgh, trained a distinguished contingent of medical doctors and engineers. The other, the Polish University College attached to the
University of London, specialized in faculties of medicine, chemistry, mathematics, and engineering. But there were many other possibilities. The Catholic University of Louvain in Belgium, for instance, was a mecca for would-be Polish students in the immediate post-war years. So, too, was Dublin. [
BRITAIN
, p. 538]

By 1948–49, when most of the exservice students were beginning to graduate, conditions in Poland were even less favourable for returnees than previously. The Iron Curtain had solidified. The People’s Republic was looking ever more antagonistic. The Cold War was setting in. So permanent emigration grew into an ever more attractive option.

Several assisted emigration schemes were operating in the late 1940s and early 1950s, and would-be emigrants were faced with a choice of destinations. In all cases, however, applicants with professional skills or established technical experience were preferred, so it was beneficial to postpone one’s application until the best qualifications had been obtained. The Varsovians, who in the main had higher academic aptitudes than the average soldier or refugee, were the most likely to enter higher learning and the most likely to stay in it longer. This meant that often they were not ready to contemplate emigration until five, six, or seven years after the war.

The USA was the most attractive destination. It was a vast country with a long immigrant tradition that could absorb large numbers of ‘tired and weary’ from the Old Continent. It possessed several large Polish communities, in cities like Chicago, Detroit, Buffalo, or Cleveland (Ohio), where there were good opportunities for employment. Above all, it was a country virtually untouched by war – a half-continent of apparently unlimited promise and prosperity where one could forget the horrors of Warsaw completely. [
USA
, p. 539]

Canada offered many of America’s attractions with fewer of its drawbacks. Being British, it accepted British qualifications more readily; and it was entering a phase of dynamic expansion. But the Canadian ‘Polonia’ was not so developed; and the size of the population and hence the sum total of employment opportunities was much less. [
CANADA
, p. 546]

Australia beckoned from the other side of the world. It was hot, huge, and hungry for immigrants. But in the immediate post-war period, it had many of the characteristics of a remote, colonial backwater; and it did not possess the open, multicultural, and outward-looking society that has since grown up there. Poles, like other European emigrants of that era, such as Greeks, Yugoslavs, and Italians, fitted well into the official ‘White Australia’ policy. But they did not always fit so well into some of the narrow-minded Anglocentric and late Imperial communities into which they were expected to integrate. There was a ready welcome for physical labourers in the outback or in some of the major Government projects like the Snowy River Scheme. But there were far fewer openings for a sophisticated Varsovian
who was hoping to encounter the (idealized) delights of pre-war Warsaw in Sydney or Melbourne. Above all, Australia and New Zealand in the pre-jet age were off the map, separated from the ‘Old World’ by a sea journey of nine or ten weeks. They were good places for forgetting. Emigrants who took ship in Britain on an assisted passage rarely expected to see the shores of Europe again. [
AUSTRALIA
, p. 551]