Interview with Czesław Marchaj

We have decided to make the interview with Mr. Marchaj available to readers; it is also planned for publication in Trygław. However, that may take several months (issue 15 was recently released), and the historical value of the interview is evident to anyone interested in the history of Zadruga. We are probably dealing with the last witness to the activities of that group during World War II. Excerpts of this in-depth interview with C. Marchaj will be published shortly, which may encourage some readers to explore the details covered in the interview.

T. S.

Conversation with Czesław Marchaj (born July 9, 1918 in Słomniki), former member of the Stronnictwo Zrywu Narodowego, soldier (corporal cadet) of the Home Army, adherent of Zadruga (under the pseudonym "Władybor"). Author of the well-known textbook "Teoria żeglowania" (Sailing Theory). Member of the British Royal Institute of Naval Architects.

T.S. Please tell me about your activities in the Party of National Uprising?

C.M. I knew Widy-Wirski well - I lived for several months with Stachniuk at 14 Dąbrowiecka Street. A group of Zadruga members lived there, and Ludwik Gościński, a former Franciscan, lived nearby. I was very close friends with him. Stasio Grzanka, who was dying of tuberculosis, I was present at his death. I lived next door to Grzanka at the time. He was interested in the issues of the transition of consciousness, that critical moment. And Czesław says, make sure you remember what I'm about to say to you. Unfortunately, this transitional moment was similar to the one I experienced when I had surgery on my kidneys and then cancer. This moment is elusive. You are fully conscious, and at some point, it disappears. Reality fades away, and you are in nothingness.

There was Sulikowski, a lawyer, Dr. Damazy Tilgner. This was after September 1939. I met Stachniuk for the first time in 1940. Circumstances arranged it so that I lived together with him, to some extent I financed Zadruga.

T.S. A from what did you make a living?
C.M. In various ways, but recently it was the rectification of spirit. We were rectifying what was called moonshine, that disgusting smelly moonshine with Damazy Tilgner. Tilgner was a food specialist. And we produced pure spirit, even higher quality than monopoly spirit, which later led to my arrest by the Kripo. But maybe I'm talking too chaotically…

T.S. Were you a member of the National Uprising Party?

C.M. Yes. The Uprising was very close to Zadruga. Widy-Wirski was our most frequent guest. I knew Felczak less well, but I knew Widy-Wirski very well and his wife Tamara. We were on friendly terms.

Was he also in the Independent Poland's Cadre or simply in the Home Army?

C.M. I was in the ZWZ, I completed a secret AK non-commissioned officers' school with the rank of corporal cadet. I had an assignment to intelligence. And for a long time during the occupation, until my arrest at Pawiak, I was involved in intelligence work. Nothing special, tedious work - collecting information on, for example, the location of military units at the airfield on Grochów. There was a lot of artillery there. Just everyday work. Analyzing the activities of people connected with the Germans in Saska Kępa and Grochów.

T.S. Did you also observe the Folksdojcz?

C.M. Of course, yes. I worked closely with Bronek Pietrzak in this regard; he was observing Grochów, and I was observing Saska Kepa, our meeting point was on that airfield in Grochów. Bronek tragically died because he participated in rescuing prisoners from Pawiak. When I was arrested on the Vistula…

T.S. I read about that in an article about you - you were detained by German colonists in the village of Zawady[1].

C.M. They shot at me at night. ..As for "Zryw" – we distributed, among other things, these publications "Zryw" and "Kadra". There was a moment when, returning from the city, from Warsaw to Kępa, I saw little boys shouting "Zryw", "Zryw" and distributing them to people. It turned out they found a package that we kept on Dąbrowiecka near the entrance, near the stairs. In such a hard-to-reach hole, and these boys found it. We were a bit afraid then, but nothing happened.

I don't remember exactly how I met Jan Stachniuk, but it was probably through a friend of mine, maybe Józio Gałązka, who lived on Paryska Street in Saska Kępa. He said, "You know, Czesław, I met an interesting group on Dąbrowiecka Street, and we went there." I was interested in philosophical issues. During the occupation, I attended secret lectures at the University of Warsaw's Philosophical Faculty, and later sociology.

T.S. Did you share his philosophical and social beliefs?

C.M. To a large extent yes. However, the emphasis on economics somewhat…I knew that society's life is not just economic issues. What you see now are moral issues, "man does not live by bread alone." I had reservations and under the influence of Greek literature and Stachniuk encouraged me to write from the perspective of Zadruga. I was a member, my pseudonym was "Władybor." So, I had reservations that too much emphasis was placed on economics. I know that this is an extremely important field because ultimately it determines the possibilities for the development of society. We discussed this topic. Stachniuk encouraged me very much to work on finding some compromise between what we inherited from the countries of antiquity… Such as Greece, where a compromise between economics and the issues of how to live was excellently captured. Ethical issues, we often talked about this topic.

T.S. What were your circumstances after 1945? In Wacyk's account, it is stated that you and Stachniuk ran a vegetable shop in Sopot together.

C.M. Nothing much. I went to Sopot for a while. And there - since I was interested in sailing - we renovated a yacht that had belonged to a German admiral with my friend Sieradzki, and we sailed the sea. Dr. Tilgner also sailed with us. While I was in Sopot, I met Widy-Wirski on the pier. Widy asked me, "Do you know that I am the deputy minister of maritime affairs? And I would like to make a name for myself on the Coast. Could you help introduce me here?" I say we have regattas here on Sunday, so I invite you. After the regattas, you'll be able to introduce yourself and express your views at the club. Indeed, on Sunday, he arrived in two cars, Widy-Wirski in one and Minister of Health Jerzy Sztachelski in the other. I invited them onto the yacht, two from the entourage also boarded, we went out to sea, Sztachelski was a sailor, he held himself quite well. But at noon, when it started to blow, waves appeared, Widy began to vomit over the side. We returned to the Yacht Club, Widy-Wirski gave a speech, we had a friendly meeting with members of Yacht Club Polska, we said our goodbyes and he left.

In the meantime, I am arrested on charges of attempting to escape. The preliminary investigation is conducted in Gdańsk, after which they take me away in handcuffs at night and transport me to Warsaw, to Aleje Szucha to the MBP in the basement, cell No. 4. Four prisoners are resting on the bunks. The door opens and among the prisoners I recognize one - Stachniuk. We pretend not to know each other because there were often informers in the cells. After getting to know the rest, we maintained contact.. I find out that Stachniuk is arrested on charges of inspiring Gomułka and members of the government, including Wirski, to carry out a right-wing counterrevolution. Stachniuk is surprised as to what role I play here. I don't know yet, there has been no investigation. From a conversation with such a Jew - I don't know if you watched my interview with Grzegorz Braun…

T.S. I read an article where you talked about Wahl.

C.M. Wahl said yes. Then I sat with Kostek-Biernacki. He was asked about Bereza, and he said that compared to Mokotów, Bereza was a hotel. Wahl asked me why I was imprisoned. I said they arrested me for escaping. He replied, “Here you don’t get imprisoned for escaping. You’ll be imprisoned where you were caught. Here, people are imprisoned for serious matters. You’ll soon find out why you’re here.”

And indeed. In the meantime, we talk to Stachniuk. He is accused by a member of Zadruga - Józef Kowalczyk „Sławbor”, who worked in the Warsaw censorship office. Sławbor appeared as the main witness for the prosecution. A piece of scum, I was friends with him. Stachniuk saved him when he was sick with tuberculosis, we financed this „Sławbor”, he stayed in Zakopane for a long time. How can a person reach such a state as to become the main witness for the prosecution when they were so close? Stachniuk was devastated. He knew the matter was serious and that it carried a death penalty. He told me approximately the content of the accusation. And at some point, they called me up for interrogation and a general conversation. What did I interest myself in? They knew a lot. Do you know Stachniuk? Yes, I do. Do you know Widy-Wirski? Yes, I do. Do you know Sztachelski? Yes, I do. Such a general one - how I evaluate Marx's philosophy… And during this preliminary conversation, the door opens and a rather tall gentleman enters the room and addresses me, "Marchaj. You are not a stupid man. You have found yourself in a dark forest, but we will give you a green light. If you follow the green light, not a hair will fall from your head." And he left. And then - I signed a protocol, nothing important, just such acquaintances. I went downstairs and told Stachniuk about it. And Wahl asks me — what did he look like, the one who was here? I described him. „Do you know who that was? That was Różański himself. And if Różański is interested in your case, then this is a capital matter — you'll find out about it soon." A few days passed, and they called me in again for questioning. "Tell us about Stachniuk, what is happening with him." I said: "I know he's locked up." „And how do you know he's locked up?" Because I'm in the same cell with him. „God damn it!" He banged the table, summoned the guard, take him downstairs. They moved me out of the cell with my belongings, to cell no. 12. In the meantime, I found out that Aron Wahl, an old decrepit man, had been released. He was delighted, even left us a piece of Edam cheese. They take me to cell No. 12. It's such a damn cell under the stairs. Cramped and very hot. The door opens and the first person I see is Aron Wahl. I couldn't catch my breath. "Mr. Czesław, please undress," he says. He's only in his underwear, all the prisoners are in their underwear. "Air? I'll show you how to breathe here." One has to lie down there where there is a gap between the door and the floor, that's where fresh air flows.

I find out who is sitting there - Kamiński from the Peasant Battalions. Wahl, a Jehovah's Witness in very poor condition, because they hanged him from behind with handcuffs - accused of spying for the USA. And there's also an emigrant named Prus, (I think Stanisław). I learn from this Prus that he knows my uncle who worked at the embassy in Paris. That I must under no circumstances admit to having connections with Mrożkiewicz Stefan in Paris. And we sit there. They call me for interrogation and ask, “Did you sail on a yacht with Widy-Wirski and Sztachelski?” I say – yes. “What was the purpose of your sailing?” I say, “Widy-Wirski, as the Minister of Maritime Affairs, asked me to familiarize myself with the environment.” What was the real purpose? I say – there was no purpose. We’ll tell you what the purpose was – you prepared escape routes for Gomułka’s group of ministers in case the right-wing coup failed. And Stachniuk inspired it. I say – nonsense. There was no purpose. I know that Stachniuk knew Widy-Wirski very well because he came to Dąbrowiecka Street very often. But I don't know any political tasks for the future. As far as I know Stachniuk, such conversations were not held. I know that Widy-Wirski was interested in Stachniuk's writings. Incidentally, almost all of Stachniuk's books survived and I have them here. And I go back down. Wahl asks – "Now do you know? And do you know what threatens you for this? The death penalty." They haven't forced me to sign anything yet, just interrogations. A week has passed, they call me again, and there is a prepared protocol stating that I sailed intentionally on the „Przygoda” with Wida-Wirski to ensure an escape to Sweden in case the coup failed. I didn't sign it, it's nonsense. They didn't beat me; it was just terror in the sense of „we have plenty of time“ and they used the konvejer method. (I had been arrested six times in Poland.) At one point, silence. They stop calling me, something must have happened in the meantime. But we can sense something, in prison one develops a sense of how things are going. At some point at night, a soldier from the KBW arrives, handcuffed behind his back, and they take me to Mokotów. Meanwhile, Aron Wahl is being led out of cell 12 to freedom. I am greeted at Mokotów by the warden Alojzy Grabicki, a piece of scum. He particularly enjoyed watching death sentences being carried out. They lead me to cell 22. The door opens and one of the first people I see is Aron Wahl. I ask: „What about you?” “Do you see these bastards? They want to break me.” And life in this cell begins. You probably know who was in cell 22. Mostly people with death sentences, so-called KS. Some had several. The cell is overcrowded. You sleep on the floor on sacks filled with straw. When you lay them out, there’s a lot of dust, and people with asthma cough a lot. You sleep like herring next to each other. That’s a technique to break a person down. I remember Professor Walicki from UW suffering especially, he had something wrong with his leg and couldn't walk. Since he couldn't make his way to the toilet between the bodies, he lay near the latrine, in that terrible stench.

And so I sit in this cell, meeting various people. I befriend, among others, Kostek Biernacki.

T.S. I saw Kurkiewicz's film about Kostek. That's where I know Wahl's statement that Bereza was a boarding school.

C.M. I was friends with Kostek because he had a humanities education, the voivode formally responsible for Bereza. And I was also friends with Wahl – a former prisoner of Bereza. One day there was an alarm on the ward, the prisoners had to line up in fours, the doors opened, and Grabicki entered with civilians. He said, "Aron Wahl, step forward." The man was barely able to walk, so he came out. Kostek Biernacki, step forward. He was of similar age, barely walking with a cane, standing next to Wahl. Grabicki asks: “Wahl, tell the citizens prosecutors – he points at the group of these scoundrels who came with him – tell them how Kostek Biernacki humiliated you in Bereza Kartuska. And he remains silent. Furious, Grabicki shouts, “Aron, are you hearing me? Tell the citizens prosecutors …” I know what’s going on. Grabicki is offering freedom on a platter. And he remains silent. Furious, he slams the door, they leave. I ask Mr. Aron, why didn't you say anything? "Mr. Czeslaw - compared to the catacombs where they keep us, Bereza Kartuska was a pension. How could I say anything?" In my memory, he is a hero.

T.S. When did they let you out?
C.M. A is not such a simple matter. In the meantime, I am getting to know many people. There are pilots from England who have returned, including Siwiński, Skalski, and many interesting people. In a way, I am obliged to the security authorities for putting me in prison. Because in my entire life, I would not have met such a large number of interesting personalities. The intellectual elite of Poland was there. From the conversations I had with these KSs, I conclude that a person does not have sufficient resistance to admit to any crime under prolonged investigation and torture. It even came to the point where prisoners asked the interrogators to tell them what they were supposed to admit to, and they would admit to it.

They were held as potential witnesses for future trials. Once they were no longer suitable as witnesses, a death sentence was carried out.

I've been sitting on this Mokotów for several months, at some point in the night KBW arrives, hands cuffed behind my back, put on a train and they take me to Gdańsk. And there the investigation starts again, the so-called konvejer. I'm pretty tough, I sailed a lot around the world on a yacht, I could have escaped if I wanted to – I sailed with my wife. It doesn't matter, they have to finish the investigation. I don't admit anything, but other witnesses do, it comes to a trial, I get 1.5 years for escape. I'm in prison, there was a warder named Wrona whom I befriended. I prepared him for his high school exams.

Sometimes you receive help from people you wouldn't expect. I sailed on a yacht with my wife and Tilgner to Sweden and Finland. They would put various guests on our yacht. If you had a private yacht, you had to contribute socially. You had to train young people or take certain people with you. And one of those people was Lucjan Uziembło, whom I became friends with. He would come to our house for dinner. And from the occupation times, I still had a Vis pistol. I kept this visa as a memory of those times, but I felt it wasn't safe. I say, Mr. Lucjan, I have a visa here in this apartment, and I'm a bit worried where to hide it. Will you find it? Lucjan went, looked, and without error pointed out the board on the veranda, saying, "Under that board is the visa." I took it out, and he said, "Mr. Czesław, do you know what threatens for this, the death penalty?" We immediately get into my car (he had a Mercedes and a store selling car parts) with that pistol and throw it away”. Driving from Sopot to Gdynia near Orłowo, the road splits and there is a small grove in the middle. We stopped there, Uziembło takes the pistol, disassembles it, steps out, and throws the parts into the bushes. That was in 1948, when sailing was ending and only party members were allowed to sail.

During my investigation in Gdańsk, the door opens and Uziembło enters the room in the uniform of a captain. He smiles at me, closes the door, and leaves. He could have pointed me out and said something, but he didn't. After all, he betrays his friend Dr. Imbreger, who is found to have a weapon and is sentenced to death.

T.S. I am interested in your assessment of Wide. Is his activity after 1945, in your opinion, a manifestation of positive realism or mere careerism?

C.M. As we sat with Stachniuk, we were wondering if Wida was in prison or not. When I got out of prison in Gdańsk in 1953, I called Wida-Wirski. On the way to the meeting, he lived in a government block on Szucha Avenue, and Gomułka lived above him. He opens the door and signals that the apartment is bugged, we have to talk about trifles. I couldn't discuss anything serious with him. After the meeting with Wida-Wirski, I met Tilgner, and we were wondering what the situation was like. Tilgner believed that Widy, as a covert communist, was carrying out a task of infiltrating other environments.

T.S. Widy fabricated communist connections during the investigation, which was not necessarily true. While incarcerated, this was part of his defense strategy. I would be interested in your assessment of his activities after 1945. Was he more of a careerist or a positivist?

C.M. I met him again before he left for Paris. He told me, - Czesław will be enough for the communist party for the rest of my life. He was a careerist type.

I met Stachniuk after he was released from prison, and he was a wreck of a man. I returned to Saska Kepa from the Coast because I was not allowed to live there, and Janina Klopocka brought him to me. I tried to talk to him. Unfortunately, he only had brief moments of clarity. He often repeated "keys" – they beat him with keys. Either from this or it was taken from something else - when a prisoner was led to interrogation from the cells, they beat the keys against the metal parts of the staircase so there would be noise and the prisoners wouldn't meet. Stachniuk, when we sometimes washed and emptied the toilets in the washroom, there were hooks there - he showed these hooks - here they will hang us. He had a premonition that he wouldn't survive.

I had a terrible feeling of complete ruin of a human being. You can't imagine – on one hand, you know an incredibly intelligent person, sensitive, open-minded, friendly, and suddenly you see a ruin, a complete ruin. I had a terrible impression that one could destroy a person's life like that.

T.S. Have you come into contact with the Zadruga movement after 1956 in the country or in Great Britain?

C.M. In Great Britain, no. The last time I saw Stachniuk and Kłopocka.

T.S. Did you know Teodor Jakubowski?
C.M. Since you mentioned that Jakubowski died, I will tell you about it. Young people were gathering around Zadruga, mostly reading Friedrich Nietzsche. One of them was Jakubowski. He trained his muscles. And he was friends with Henryk Rybka.

T.S.: Rybka had promised, in exchange for a reward from an unidentified Catholic organization, to kill the leading members of Zadruga, and after the plot was discovered he was killed by Jakubowski. The case is described in Jakubowski's testimony available at the IPN[2].

C.M. Well, I was a witness. I haven't told anyone until now. I was sick and Remiszewski Ryszard, a witness to the event, came to me and said, Czesław, a terrible thing has happened. Rybka was a poet who wrote phylogenetic poems. This really annoyed Jakubowski, who was stubbornly set in his ways, while Rybka was thin and asthenic. Rybka prepared candies with poison …

Remiszewski, who told me this, had already packed a shovel and then buried Rybka in the forest with Jakubowski.

T.S. Do you remember Remiszewski's nickname - "Jarobój"?
C.M. I'm sorry, I don't remember. But you know, that youth wasn't as close to Zadruga as we old ones were. They were just wandering around. I told Stachniuk about it — I said, "Listen, Jan" — we used to address him in various ways, either as Jan or as "Stoigniew". He was shocked. I have kept this a secret until now.

T.S. Thank you very much for the conversation.

Interviewed by Tomasz Szczepański. Warsaw, July 2013

Authorized interview in August 2013.