She arrived at the Embassy promptly at nine and was met in the hallway by the First Secretary. Greetings were exchanged but before she could draw the next breath she was shepherded into a large office occupied by the Ambassador.
He rose from his desk and walked slowly, hand extended, to meet her in the middle of the room.
“Aah. Our new Secretary. Charmed to meet you again. Welcome to London.”
“Greetings from Warsaw, Comrade Minister. It is my privilege to be in your service once more.
With that they sat down, all three, around a dark heavy highly polished coffee table on which three glasses of steaming lemon tea had already been set out.
The new Secretary’s first day in post at the Embassy in London, the fourteenth of March, 1969, coincided with the banning, of the theatrical performance and book called ‘Soldiers’; a play by the German author Rolf Hochuth.
Warsaw was alerted the night before and she was sent for immediately. As the rising star on the staff of Vistula Poland’s leading journal of foreign affairs, Marisha’s brief was simple: “turn it in our favour.’
The German playwright, made two assertions. Firstly that Churchill had ordered the assassination of General Wladyslaw Sikorski, leader of the ’London’ Poles and said that he had the evidence locked up in a Swiss bank vault which would reveal its contents in fifty years time. Secondly that the ‘Katastrophe’, the Dresden holocaust, had been too long ignored in the kakography of war. A debate about its tactical value and strategic morality was long overdue; Hitler and his generals were no angels; no more so were Churchill and his military advisers.
What, asked Hochuth, was Churchill's role in the operation code named Gommorrah? This was a new campaign which saw Bomber Command evolve, during 1942-43, the practice of area bombing over Germany. On 30-31 May 1942 Bomber Command tried out its first Thousand Bomber Raid over Cologne. To quote from the report of the Chief of Police of Cologne: ‘High Explosive bombs and incendiaries were dropped for about one and a half hours ... From the outset, bombing was spread almost evenly over the entire city area ... the attack had no recognizable centre of main effort. Residential areas ... were primarily affected. The main losses included 13,000 workers flats. The casualty rate was 469 dead and 5,027 injured."
This was read as failure in London.
As a consequence of this experience the city of Hamburg was singled out for new tactics. Many more incendiary bombs than high explosive bombs were used. High density, working class, areas were targeted and the concentration of effort led, as required, to the destruction of Hamburg, by Fire Storm. Forty three thousand civilians (as many as R.A.F. Bomber Command personnel lost in the war) were killed. And in what the Germans call, Die Katstrophe, the bombing of Dresden on 13 February 1945, killed 135,000.
'Gomorrah' was a reprisal, in part, for the bombing, by the Luftwaffe of urban targets - most infamously Coventry where 380 died and the 13,339 killed during the Blitz on London, in September and October 1940.
*
Marisha was more interested in quashing the allegation that Churchill had ordered the murder of Sikorski.
The self-exiled prime minister of Poland was no stranger to Marisha. She had long completed a Masters thesis which was based on the General’s diary which had been given to her in Poland by his last surviving relative.
The old lady and Marisha shared the same apartment in Wroclaw formerly, Breslau, shared too by Janka, Basha and Marta; mother and her two daughters. All the women crammed into the two roomed space they called home were variously displaced persons.
Marisha and the old lady directly from the east and the threesome, from the west, rare returnees from Tanganyika via Britain.
It was they who had introduced Jozef to Marisha; rather they gave Marisha Jozef’s address for when next she was in London where she needed to be, in research of British archives relevant to her doctoral thesis on which she had embarked with the vigour of an ambitious careerist.
Her entire being was geared to the cause. Poland’s cause. The Party’s cause. It was the Party to which she owed everything. Her education. Her salary. Her permission to travel. To London. To the archives. That is what she lived for. The contents of official files. Researching the relationship between Poland and Great Britain, now so crucial with the renaissance of revisionism in Adenauer’s Germany and with the stirrings of yet another anti-Soviet revolt in Poland. She had to proceed with care as the political ground within which her career was rooted again felt uneven; the Party line again began to shift like a continental plate; East or West?
Attuned to the vibration of these potent shifts, she looked in the direction of the setting sun.
Marisha had finally written up much of her thesis on Anglo-Polish relations. It was a good basis for the task she had been given by her superiors in Warsaw: to move Poland closer to the West, especially to Britain where many were sympathetic to the Polish notion of a nuclear free Europe, as envisaged in the Rapacki Plan.
*
At her desk, Marisha read the typescript of her thesis and marked in pencil, passages which she would use in her report to the Ambassador:
‘On arrival in London in June 1940, Sikorski's wish was to consolidate his own personal triumph in retaining his position as Poland's political and military supremo. For him this was the light at the end of the tunnel through which he had journeyed since the evacuation from Dunkirk. It marked the end of a chapter in the history of the Polish government in exile. Much of what had been achieved after months of effort in France to establish the machinery of government was swept away. Yet much remained on which to build. Sikorski emerged in a particularly favourable light. His energy and clarity of mind at a time when others panicked was remarkable. That he never once considered any course of action other than to continue the fight against Germany was less so. No other possibility was conceivable. The logical conclusion of the policy which clearly emerged in France, a consistent commitment by the Polish government to pursue the war against Hitler, was nevertheless sought with extraordinary vigour. The involvement of a Polish force in Norway demonstrates this policy in practice. It also suggests real efforts to realize the government's long-standing ambition to gain the confidence of, and parity with, the British and French governments. The reaction of these governments to Polish demands for participation on the Supreme War Council shows how difficult this had been to achieve. The reasons are clear. The Polish government was weak, totally dependent on the help of its allies and sympathizers, and able to exert little pressure. Yet the need for recognition as an ally of equal rank was very real to Sikorski. He insisted on involvement around the table and in the field, not only to establish his government's credibility in the eyes of the Allies but also for the sake of Polish support at home and abroad. Sikorski had come through a most trying period and survived serious attempts to oust him. He remained as head of government and chief of armed forces after his evacuation from France.
Poland had then replaced France as Britain's chief ally, while the Soviet Union continued its benevolent neutrality towards Germany.
Despite strains between the various factions in the Polish government and the wider emigration, Sikorski, firmly supported by the British, was able to override critics of his style and policies. It was not until the question of Soviet-Polish relations came to the fore with the entry of the USSR into the war in June 1941 that a crisis, more serious than that of June 1940, arose in the Government-in-Exile. Sikorski, again under fire for his policy and style of leadership, was at least confident of his standing with Churchill. The warmth of the relationship between the 2 prime ministers is evident at the beginning of the new year.
On 7 January 1941, Sikorski had written to seek Churchill's view of the suitability of that time for his proposed visit to Egypt and America. Seven days later he received the following reply:
‘I have given much thought to your letter. . . . If I am to consult my personal feeling and wishes, I must frankly say I hope very much that on reflection you will decide to postpone your tour. It is a great help to me to know that you, as the leader of the largest Allied force in this country and as Prime Minister of our first Ally in the war, are available to give help and guidance at a time when we may at any moment be faced with a heavy attack from the enemy and the Polish Army may be called . . . to fight at our side. This, my dear General, is my personal view, but of course, I should not wish to stand in your way if you feel that your duty lies elsewhere.’
Churchill's words pleased Sikorski, as indicated by his response: 'My dear Prime Minister, thank you very much for your letter of January 24th. I appreciate what you say and I am very glad to know that you feel the Polish Forces have an important role to play in the defence of this country.' Flattered to think his presence was required in Britain he asked Churchill whether he would help him send someone in his place if he did not go to Egypt. He explained that there were nearly 10,000 Polish troops in the Middle East.
Sikorski was particularly interested in the possible use of Polish troops from there against the Germans in the Balkans.
He asked Churchill to 'include Poland among the countries which they are prepared to assist with credits and military equipment needed for the new fighting units'. and ended 'I am convinced my dear Prime Minister, you will understand and sympathise with this point of view, and not refuse your help in all these vital matters for the future of my country'.
Churchill exerted pressure on the Foreign Office to send a favourable reply: 'All possible consideration should be given to this very faithful and courageous statesman. These Polish recruits in the New World are not only a necessary source of man-power for the Polish forces, but of great symbolic significance.'
This was the kind of recognition for which Sikorski was working.
But there was a quid pro quo.
The British government now pressed the Polish government to come to an agreement with Russia for the sake of its own relations with its new ally.
The shape of things to come was already discernable. July 1941 was a turning point in Anglo-Soviet relations as well as the beginning of a new chapter in the affairs of the Polish government. Its fate now depended increasingly on Soviet policy. The Polish question became one of the main subjects of a dispute which was to sour Great Power relations.
As noted at the Foreign Office: “The Poles are certainly in a bad mood and dislike no longer being our No 1 ally. The best hope seems to be General Sikorski, who so far as I am able to judge, is a bigger man than most Poles, and able to rise above domestic squabbles.”
Sikorski’s authority was soon to be fully tested.
At 9.15 pm on 13 April 1943, Berlin radio announced to the world the discovery of the bodies of about 10,000 Polish officers buried in mass graves in the Smolensk area. According to the broadcast, German troops were taken by locals to a place called Kosogory at the northern end of Katyn wood, an area occupied by the Germans since 14 July 1941. Here the Bolsheviks had perpetrated secretly mass executions.
Two days after this statement was broadcast the Soviet Information Bureau in London discussed it as 'fabrication by Goebbels' slanderers'. On the same day that the Soviet release was issued, the Polish cabinet met to discuss the allegation of the Soviet Embassy in London. The International Red Cross was also asked to investigate. At the time General Sikorski was in the Middle East visiting Polish troops and so on 16 April General Kukiel issued a detailed account of Polish-Soviet communications concerning the Polish officers missing since 17 September 1939. Kukiel's statement ended with the words:
‘We have become accustomed to the lies of German propaganda and we understand the purpose behind its latest revelations. In view however of the abundant and detailed German information concerning the discovery . . ., and the categorical statement that they (the missing Polish Officers) were murdered by Soviet authorities in the Spring of 1940, the necessity has arisen that the mass graves discovered should be investigated and the facts alleged verified.’
This move angered Stalin into interrupting relations with Sikorski's government. On 21 April 1943, in a telegram to Churchill, he described the behaviour of the Polish government towards the USSR as 'completely abnormal and contrary to the rules and standards governing relations between two allied States'. He was resentful that far from countering the 'infamous fascist slander against the USSR', the Sikorski government had not found it necessary 'even to address questions to the Soviet Government or to request information on the matter'. He interpreted the simultaneous start of 'the anti-Soviet campaign' in the German and Polish press as 'indubitable evidence of contact and collusion between Hitler and the Sikorski Government' a view he saw further supported by the close correspondence of line taken by the respective press campaigns. He concluded that these circumstances led the Soviet government to believe that the London government had 'severed its relations of alliance with the USSR' and 'for these reasons the Soviet Government has decided to interrupt relations with the Government'. Three days later Churchill replied that far from Sikorski being pro-German or in league with them he was in danger of being overthrown by Poles who considered that he had not stood up sufficiently against the Soviet government. 'If he should go we should only get somebody worse. I hope therefore that your decision to "interrupt" relations is read in the sense of a final warning.' Stalin refused to change his mind. Relations between the Polish Government-in-Exile and the Soviet Union were never resumed.
The government's isolation was intensified by the tragic death of General Sikorski on 4 July 1943. The aircraft bringing him back to London crashed on take-off in Gibraltar.”
*
Marisha italicised the words she felt the Ambassador would most appreciate in formulating a response to the Hochuth affair:
“Sikorski’s death has been the subject of much debate and, in the absence of strong evidence to the contrary, foul play will continue to be a possibility which is given consideration. The matter is of sufficient notoriety to call for some comment here on the charge that the British were responsible for Sikorski's death. Stalin for one seemed to believe it. Despite attempts to implicate Churchill in the affair the British prime minister's position is unassailable. On personal and political grounds he had a real interest in Sikorski's welfare. He admired Sikorski as much as he came to dislike his successors, none of whom perished by order of the prime minister. That is not to say that assassination as a possible solution to Polish problems was never considered in British policy-making circles. Kot, who was always regarded by the Foreign Office as much more troublesome than Sikorski, is referred to in a letter dated 30 July 1940 from Savery to Roberts in these terms: 'I think that all parties are now united in their desire to reduce K's [Kot's] powers. I hope they will succeed but I am afraid we shall never have any peace until we have him bumped off.'
Though no such reference is found regarding Sikorski, threats to his life were discussed at the Foreign Office. He certainly had enemies amongst his compatriots who would have wished to see him dead. In October 1942 a Foreign Office minute records a conversation between Tytus Filipowicz and Savery in which the Polish ex-ambassador to Washington spoke of the growing unpopularity of Sikorski amongst Polish émigrés and warned of a possible threat to his life. This view was discussed as being over-emotional.
Yet the man who had come to symbolize the spirit of the Polish nation during the war was suddenly lost. Sikorski's death was a disastrous blow to the London Poles. He had given substance to the Government-in-Exile, which some had regarded as an 'ephemeral fiction'. Within the international community he was an irreplaceable Polish asset. As regards his successor Stanislaw Mikolajczyk, Churchill 'showed little sympathy for his feelings or understanding of his lack of international experience. . . . He felt he owed nothing to Mikolajczyk. The words he had uttered to General Sikorski in 1940 did not seem to apply to his relationship with the General's successor.'
Sikorski displayed a sense of realism which was rare in Polish politics. His emergence as a Polish statesman of mark is significant in the history of the Polish government during the Second World War. The impression gained from the earlier part of this period is of a posturing figure whose sense of Poland's importance in the Allied cause was out of all proportion to her worth as an ally, though his demands to be treated as an equal partner in the struggle against Germany could be seen as justifiable attempts directed at maintaining Polish dignity. Throughout late 1939 and into 1941 Sikorski could have been seen as just another Pole with a grandiloquent turn of phrase, but this would not be a fair assessment. He was at his best when he talked in broad terms of major issues and in so long doing served the same purpose as Churchill did for Britain and de Gaulle for France, emerging as Poland's Man of Destiny. This went against the advice of both critics and admirers. Yet it is difficult to see how this equation between Sikorski and his country could have been avoided. In a most dark and tragic hour of his nation's history, he held tenaciously to his belief in the strength and rightness of the Polish cause and in the eventual deliverance of his country from the defeat and humiliation it had suffered at the hands of its two historical enemies. Sikorski's indestructible patriotism was inspiring. He also had the good sense to see that concrete evidence of the will to contribute to the allied cause needed to be provided, not only for prestige purposes vis-a-vis other partners in the alliance, but also for the sake of the morale of the Poles themselves. To this end he worked with persistent diligence and he was, above all, successful in his energetic pursuit of aid from his allies for the building-up of the Polish forces. In doing this he made a thorough nuisance of himself, particularly over the question of aid in recruiting an army in Canada. In short, in the period from the formation of the Polish government in France to Hitler's attack on Russia, one's general assessment of the Polish Government-in-Exile changes. The early scenes of comic opera change under Sikorski's direction to a serious representation of the Polish case. The true test of his statesmanship, however, came when the British government invited the Soviet Union on to the Allied side.
It would have hindered the allied cause had the Polish government insisted on holding out over the agreement with Russia. Sikorski's importance lay in keeping clear the path that others sought to block. He offered his fullest cooperation over the signing of the pact with Russia, within the limits he gauged to be necessary for the maintenance of fundamental Polish interests.
By going against the strongest prejudices held by his countrymen, Sikorski showed he was not afraid of being unpopular. The agreement with Russia was more than a demonstration of Polish willingness to work for the Allied cause. It was a gesture necessary, in Sikorski's view, to obtain British commitment to support Polish interests in the new Europe that was to emerge after the war. Whatever illusions he may have had over the extent of Britain's influence over Polish fate he showed his statesmanship in appreciating his government's dependence, which inevitably characterized the Anglo-Polish alliance as it had developed, into the basis of a working relationship.”
And it was this final point which Marisha felt should define the way ahead. Was it wishful to think that the two nations had again need of one another? Perhaps that was stretching a point, but there was a Labour Government in power which could now boost Poland’s search for détente.
Whilst émigré Poles in Tanganyika and elsewhere hotly debated Sikorski’s place in history, Poland’s stock stood high in the world. The proposal, by Rapacki the Polish Foreign Minister in 1957 had called for a denuclearised zone in central Europe. It found wide support, especially from the left in Britain. Yet the proposal, discussed again in Geneva in the spring of 1962, was rejected by the United States. Now, seven years later, in the year which marked the thirtieth anniversary of the war precipitated by Hitler’s attack on Poland, the Polish government published a key policy review, penned by Marisha:
“The present line of tension between NATO and the Warsaw Pact must change fundamentally towards the creation of a collective security system instead of a stand-off between two opposing, heavily armed groupings. Suspicions and prejudices, especially in the German Federal Republic, sown by almost two decades of cold war must be eradicated.
Poland has made notable contributions to the campaign for European security.
In all her proposals she has concentrated on broadening the area of détente. By developing and maintaining bilateral relations Polish diplomacy has placed dialogue at the top of the European security agenda. ….
What are the specific issues which could lead to greater European security?
The Polish proposals on disarmament, stemming from the Rapacki Plan call for a freezing of nuclear armaments and an atom free zone, still remain on the table, fully relevant to the requirements of peaceful co-existence. ….
Now we should focus on forging a new Anglo – Polish relationship. It is economic relations which most concern the West. The opportunities for trade and co-operation between the countries of Western and Eastern Europe are far from being explored. …
There is a real chance that Poland may once again find partnership in troubled times with Britain.’
A good start was to lay to rest the Sikorski affair.
By the end of her first week at the embassy, Marisha was able to send to her boss a well thought out response to Hochuth’s allegations.
She kept to herself the thought that London Poles may well have assassinated Sikorski, despite the information Hochuth would reveal in fifty years time about Churchill’s complicity in the affair; his secret locked in a Swiss vault. She hoped to be around in 2019.
*
Wishing to round off her work on Sikorski, Marisha next arranged an interview with the former Polish Ambassador to the Court of St. James and Sikorski’s Foreign Minister, and figure-head of the émigré Polish community in London.
In his eighties he retained a remarkable dignity in appearance; tall, slim, erect, elegant, benign. Aristocratic to his finger tips.
In soft mellifluous tones he told her:
“On 25 August the Anglo-Polish agreement was signed. It was an unholy alliance; Poland and Britain found themselves thrown together in the special circumstances of the diplomatic prelude to the war. Nothing but fear of Hitler brought the two together. Their alliance was an attempt to play for time in the hope that they would deter Hitler from further use of force in the conduct of German foreign policy. It is only with hindsight one can say that this reasoning was wrong. It would have been better to prepare to fight the war than attempt to delay it.
On 29 August the German chancellor delivered his ultimatum to Poland. He repeated the demands he had made after Munich. A familiar scene was being acted out but this time Hitler's victim did not capitulate under diplomatic pressure. Negotiations between the two governments broke down on 31 August 1939.
In the early hours of the next day Germany invaded Poland.
On 17 September, when the relentless onslaught of the German forces had swept the government to Kuty, Poland was invaded by the Soviet army, which occupied the area agreed to in the secret protocol to the Nazi-Soviet pact. … Molotov as Soviet foreign commissar justified the Soviet action by saying that the Polish government had 'disintegrated' and had, in fact, 'ceased to exist', leaving Poland 'a suitable field for all manners of hazards and surprises, which may constitute a threat to the USSR.' ….
‘The government went into exile and in London my first talk with Sikorski was to convince him that we must find some activity for the Polish troops in this country, this will help to maintain the morale of the Poles in Poland.’
Marisha responded with, ‘The fact that Poles had a Government at Claridges did not achieve the desired effect … the Polish Army only consists of 16,000 men in England and 6,000 in Egypt…...’
The Count changed his tone in asking why Marisha was belittling Polish arms. The pilots and crew of the Battle of Britain whose kill ratio was twice that of the British? The naval heroes of the submarine, Orzel (Eagle)? The bravehearts of Narvik, Tobruk, El Alamein, of Monte Cassino?
‘Why then’, she asked, ‘did the British not allow them a place in the victory parade? ‘And why did you fail to get Churchill to acknowledge Stalin’s guilt over Katyn and his own over Teheran and Yalta? The Alliance with Britain was a hollow sham. After all you wrote in your memoirs that it was a reversal of alliances.”
The Count stood up from his chair.
“The expression used by me, reversal of alliances, is, I am afraid, used if not wrongly at least without sufficient precision.
Beck’s attempt of steering Poland on a middle course between passive obedience to our French ally and allegiance to Germany had already in 1938 become almost impossible. What happened in March and the first days of April 1939, was not the reversal of alliances but the end of a system of checks and balances which had become inoperative.
We had no alliance with Germany and we had rejected several suggestions of the Hitler empire to join forces against Soviet Russia. Beck’s policy was inspired in every respect by the Pilsudski tradition of maximum independence and national pride. Beck did at no time show servility to the Third Reich. He stood up for Poland and its interest until the very end.”
Marisha had recorded a scoop.
Next she said:
“In November 1943 Eden, soon to depart for Teheran with Churchill, was officially told not to make, at Poland’s expense, any territorial concessions to the Soviets. Significantly quite a different case was made informally by you, Sir. When you handed your memorandum to Eden you are reported as allowing the British delegation room for manoeuvre.
In your words, Sir, ‘if, however, Poland’s friends were to tell the Government that they must accept such and such a settlement to safeguard the future of Poland, this would create a new situation.’
How different was your response to that of Benes before Munich? What of Poland’s much vaunted courage; her reputation as the one state never to bow to force majeur?’
The poor Count crumpled and was helped out of the room by his consort who asked Marisha to depart.
*
Her next subject was Professor Tsosnik. He was the communist republic’s pre-eminent historian of Poland in the twentieth century and the host of choice in Warsaw for visiting academics. Not only did he have knowledge of and access to official archives which allowed him to make copies of sought after papers selectively available to visitors, he also was a mine of information about life behind the iron curtain. And a great raconteur. He spoke to her about his recent visit to the Far East.
There was, he told her, only one way to travel across the vastness of the Soviet Union. By train, taking with him four kilos of beluga and a case of vodka and having direct access to the dining car refrigerator; a long journey of gastronomic luxury.
Not so in Beijing. Shaking off his minder the Professor sought out a Chinese restaurant in which the natives of the city dined. He found one such establishment, entered unannounced and found himself before a blackboard menu listing a vast choice of dishes in a language of which he had no knowledge. A waiter waited to take his order. The guest pointed at random to six mysterious Chinese characters. The waiter looked most surprised and when he loudly relayed the order to the kitchens, the entire establishment fell silent. The westerner had asked for six soups. Unfazed, he imbibed each with gusto and raised his head to a sea of delighted faces.
Here was a true bon vivant.
The great man of Polish letters. Here was a hero amongst academics in the West who thought him a hapless victim of blanket state censorship.
Ignoring the fact that the authorities in Poland rarely deprived any writer of the freedom of expression, Tsosnik’s magisterial biography of Pilsudski had just emerged after years of internment by the censor. Little wonder. His subject was the foremost Polish statesman of independent of the Second Republic, 1918-1939. As one of the founders of the independent Polish State, Pilsudski’s policy involved the use of armed force; in his opinion the only measure of a nation’s strength. He regarded Russia as Poland’s worst enemy. His Legions became the Polish army which defeated the Red Army in the war of 1919-1920.
Clearly his subject could give offence to the Kremlin and indeed to the party in Warsaw and therefore it had to be censored.
‘How have you survived such censure? Are you a Party member?’
Tsosnik looked at his watch. ‘Ah. My apologies. I have an appointment at the School of Slavonic Studies. Perhaps we may continue later?’
The curtailed interview was never resumed.
*
Next on her schedule was Czeslaw Milosz.
She knew lit