Sixty years ago this week, the Warsaw Uprising, the Polish action to liberate Warsaw from the Nazi occupiers, reached its close. The Rising had originally been designed to hold out for six days, but in reality it lasted sixty three. With some 250, 000 dead and no hope left in sight the act of capitulation was signed on 2nd October 1944.
A great effort on behalf of the Allies (a factor which many Poles held to be lacking during the conflict itself) led the Nazis to accept that the combatants, the majority of whom were ordinary civilans, should be treated as official prisoners of war. By the 3rd of October groups of battered soldiers had began the march out of the city, after which the majority were transported to concentration camps, largely in Germany proper.
Warsaw was little more than rubble, and any remaining buildings were now ear-marked for destruction on the Fuhrer's orders.
A twenty year old German soldier stationed in Warsaw wrote this tribute to the Poles in a letter to his parents (and for doing so risked serious punishment):
'The Capitulation was undoubtedly one of the most extraordinary things you can imagine. The reality of it puts all drama, all tragedy into the shade. They came out with fully deserved honours after true heroism in battle. In truth they fought better than we did. What we can learn from it is the following: 1) that nothing sensible can come from this kind of subjugation of an entire nation. Sad but true! 2) we don't have a monopoly on fortitude, spirit, patriotism, and sacrifice (we can't take the Poles' credit away from them). 3) that a city can defend itself for months on end, with much heavier losses on the attacker's side ... and much can be learned from this by a neutral observer. 4) that although a fighting spirit and a pure and courageous approach can achieve a great deal, in the end this will always succumb to material advantage.
Can history ever be just? Not here. However strong the idea of nationhood, the fact of power will always overwhelm it....'
The following year, the author of this letter fell himself in Brandenstein, aged 21.
See Norman Davies' excellent history: 'Rising '44: The Battle for Warsaw'
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