A Daughter’S Promise

By Teresa Pawlowski

On February 20, 1945, the Borowczyk family received a letter from Jozef Borowczyk, their father and husband. The letter announced hope of Jozefs release from a German concentration camp at the end of WWII. Jozef had been held a prisoner of war for over six years. But Jozef Borowczyk never came home. What happened?

This is the true story of Teresa Borowczyk-Pawlowskis search to find what happened to her father and her promise to never stop searching and to never lose faith in herself or mankind.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 29, 2016
• ISBN: 9781504955737

Teresa Pawlowski

On February 20, 1945, Borowczyków , the family received a letter from Jozef Borowczyk, their husband and father. The letter was carrying the hope that, by the end of World War II, Jozef, a prisoner of the Nazi prison camp, where he stayed for nearly six years, would regain his freedom. But Jozef Borowczyk never returned home. Here’s the story of Teresa Borowczyk-Pawlowski, the daughter of Jozef, who is determined to solve the mystery of her father’s disappearance, and the story of her promise that she will not rest until he is not found and her stubbornness to never lose faith in herself and the other man.

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© 2016 Teresa Pawlowski. All rights reserved.

Cover design by Sonja Rocha

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 06/28/2016

ISBN: 978-1-5049-5573-7 (e)

The contents of this work including, but not limited to, the accuracy of events, people, and places depicted; opinions expressed; permission to use previously published materials included; and any advice given or actions advocated are solely the responsibility of the author, who assumes all liability for said work and indemnifies the publisher against any claims stemming from publication of the work.

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Contents

Chapter One — Short Story from 1940–1944

Chapter Two — Warsaw: Summer – Fall 1944

Chapter Three — Winter 1944–1945: Very Harsh February 20, 1945 Letter from Daddy

Chapter Four — Spring 1945: Waiting to Hear from Daddy, Started Searching for Daddy

Chapter Five — December 1945 – Winter 1946: Red Cross Broadcasting

Chapter Six — Winter 1946: Mailman, Cousin Wladyslaw Returned from Germany

Chapter Seven — Spring 1947: Family Heartbroken

Chapter Eight — Summer 1947: History of Red Cross, Soviet Open Camp Zgoda

Chapter Nine — Autumn 1947: Mr. Nicholas Livkovsky 1,600 Prisoners Marched to Freeze to Death

Chapter Ten — Winter 1947–1948: International Red Cross Searched for Daddy

Chapter Eleven — Winter 1948: Edmund’s Letter to the International Red Cross in Geneva

Chapter Twelve — Spring 1948: No News from Daddy for Three Years. My Holy Communion

Chapter Thirteen — End of Spring–Summer 1948: Edmund Wanted to Be an Officer and Search for Daddy

Chapter Fourteen — Summer – Fall 1948: Uncle John on International Train. Antonio and Mary

Chapter Fifteen — Fall 1948: Antonio and Mary’s Wedding

Chapter Sixteen — Winter 1948 – Spring 1949: Edmund’s Military Training and Illness

Chapter Seventeen — Spring – Summer 2010: The Political Situation in Poland Had Changed. Trip from Washington, DC, to Library of Congress. Trip to Holocaust Museum

Chapter Eighteen — Fall 2010: Trip to Holocaust Museum, More Searching for Daddy

Chapter Nineteen — Fall 2010: Concentration Camps in East Germany and an Anonymous Picture

Chapter Twenty — Fall 2010: Daddy Was Murdered on March 27, 1945 by Germans Three Weeks before the Camps Liberation by the Red Army and the Polish First Army and Six week before WWII Ended

Acknowledgments

I am deeply grateful to Marsha Butler for editing.

I want to express my sincere gratitude to the following persons:

To Senthia Medders Hill for the positive encouragement and support through the many years;

To my children Teresa, Joseph, Elizabeth, Janine, and Melonie, and grand- children for their moral support and help;

To David R. Hatch for his enduring support and for driving me to Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC, and for his patient support and en- couragement for this project;

To Lucille McCready for spiritual help during the project;

To Cathy’s son Tadeusz for adding Daddy’s name of top of Mama’s name on headstone in the cemetery;

To Mary’s daughter Teresa for collecting pictures; and

To Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC, for finding what happened to my daddy.

To my heroic Father, Jozef Borowczyk, who faithfully fought for the freedom of Poland. The last letter we received was dated February 20, 1945, with the hope of coming home. He never did return. We searched for Daddy and could never find any information as to what had happened to him. Our mother died without knowing the fate that befell the love of her life. Edmund and Mary passed away after years of searching. Cathy passed away last January 26, 2010. As I am the only one who’s left, I continued to search. On July 3, 2010, I was able to get documented copies, which was kept sixty-five years in the Holocaust Museum in Germany, that proved that Daddy was killed on March 27, 1945. This was three weeks before the Red Army and the First Polish Army liberated the concentration camps on April 22, 1945, and six weeks before the end of World War II.

My daddy wanted to come home but gave his life at the age of forty-three, serving the country that he loved.

Prologue

Szoldry, Poland, July 1939

I had many memories of Daddy holding and hugging me, walking around with me standing on his feet and then swinging me around and around. But my earliest memory of him was from when I was two and a half years old. My only brother, Edmund, just had his ninth birthday. Mama called me and Edmund to take lunch to Daddy, who was cutting wheat in the field. I wiped my face with a small towel and combed my hair, as I moved closer toward Mama, listening to what I needed to do. Mama handed a big basket of food to Edmund and said, Hold Teresa’s hand.

Edmund took my hand, and we walked the quarter mile to the field. I had black curly hair, big brown eyes and a healthy pink complexion. Edmund had brown curly hair and big green eyes, and, to me, he looked tall and smart.

Daddy spotted us at a distance from his tractor and drove through the field down to the road to meet us. He parked the tractor at the edge of the field, got off, and walked toward us, his arms outstretched to pick me up. I hugged him and wiped his sweaty face with his handkerchief. He kissed me gently and put me down. Then he picked up a few stalks of wheat and laid them on the ground. I put the tablecloth on top and Edmund put out the con- tainers of food: a bowl of pork chops, another one with mashed potatoes and gravy, and a third one full of green beans. The food smelled so good. Then Edmund set out cups of tea. Daddy said grace, and we started to eat. The food was so delicious that we ate all of it. For dessert, we had cheesecake, Daddy’s favorite. Please thank Mama for such a good lunch, Daddy said.

He bent down and picked up a handful of black dirt, sifting it through his fingers.

Look at this rich soil, he said. It is why everything grows so well in Szoldry. Dusting off his hands, he broke off the head of a wheat stalk. Hold out your hands, he told us, as he crumbled the seeds into his hands. See how heavy they are?

Yes, Daddy.

We supply this community with the best flour for baking and food for the animals, too, Daddy said proudly. He bent down and gave me a kiss and shook hands with Edmund. I put the empty dishes in the basket. Edmund picked it up with one hand and took my hand in the other. We walked slowly home. As I looked back at the long rows of wheat planted in the field, I thought that the tassels of the tall plants seemed to touch the heavens. A gentle breeze rippled thought the golden field, and the faint sound of wheat heads touching each other was music to my little ears.

Look, Brother, I said, pointing to a small herd of deer in the potato field, heading toward the forest with their fawns. In Szoldry, people and ani- mals lived in harmony.

I thought it was heaven on Earth.

Baron Chlapowski owned the land. He lived in a palace in the park, sur- rounded by lakes and old trees. In the village, people were working and raising their families; children were going to school. You need to learn where you live, Little Sister, Edmund said, Please repeat after me, Szoldry."

I repeated Szoldry, then said, post office, Brodnica. State, Poznan. Country, Poland. I giggled and quickly covered my lips with my tiny fingers.

Edmund frowned, You need to learn from me. I giggled. Okay, Big Smart Brother.

When we finally got home, Edmund said to Mama, Daddy thanks you for the good lunch. Mama was an excellent cook. An elegant, medium-sized brunette with blue eyes, she was a year younger than Daddy. Daddy was thirty- seven and had black curly hair and big brown eyes. He was six feet tall and weighs 200 pounds. Children, remember your time with Daddy, always.

Okay, we replied, a little puzzled by this request. Of course, we would remember Daddy. He was right here with us, every day.

The rest of our family consisted of Cathy, my eldest sister, thirteen year old, with brown hair and brown eyes; my eleven-year-old sister Mary, who also had brown hair but with blue eyes; and my cat Alas, a big male with grey hair and green eyes.

Every year during harvest time, everyone worked hard for long hours, harvesting the wheat and piling it in a big stack. We also harvested oats and vegetables. But, this year, the 1939 harvest season was abruptly interrupted by the Polish government’s mobilization of the military. Daddy and many other men from our village were called to serve. He left in the middle of the night, while I was sleeping. When I awoke, he was gone. Sitting in the arbor, I lis- tened for Daddy’s tractor, but it was silent. I knew that Daddy loved me, that I was his special little girl, and that he would never leave me. I began to cry. Where had he gone and why? And, more importantly, when would he be back? Mama replied with tears in her blue eyes that Daddy was called by the Polish Military Mobilization.

Don’t know for how long, Teresa, Mama said, when I asked her when Daddy was coming back. But Daddy is going wear a uniform like Uncle Szczepan from Warsaw. Do you remember him?

Yes Mama … But I wanted Daddy home with us.

Elderly men and everybody who could work, women and children, who still remained in the village went to work to save the harvest. A few days later, I awoke coughing. Smoke was everywhere. The wheat and oak stacks were on fire, very close to our house. I was scared.

A Polish officer came by and told us he needed to destroy the wheat and oats. It was a military defensive measure before the enemy entered Poland. The Polish officer informed Mama that we all needed to leave this place for a safe place, which would be toward the capital, Warsaw.

Each of us packed a few clothes, Mama got food and water. Cathy brought the cow from the barn on a long lead rope. Mama and Edmund brought up the wagon with the horses. Poor Mama sat in the front seat with Edmund even though she didn’t know anything about horses. We packed the wagon quickly and left. Edmund was driving – a nine-year-old boy trying to be the man in the family.

A big stallion whinnied as his wagon, driven by a World War I veteran, pulled past us into the lead position. The other horses and wagons fell in behind him. Terrified, I huddled down on Mary’s lap. Poor Cathy had to walk beside the wagon, leading the cow. Mama and Edmund were doing their best, and we were all praying for our safety.

I looked up at the sky from Mary’s lap. Look, I screamed, as I pointed to the airplanes flying overhead. Mama, Edmund, and Cathy looked up. Cathy started to scream. We were all terrified. The German airplanes were dropping bombs that exploded on impact, maiming and killing people and horses. Panic spread all along the road. The place was a living hell. German ground troops caught up with us and tried to steal our horses. The big stallion reared up on his hind legs, pawing the air as a German soldier tried to get closer to him. The soldier backed off in fear. An out-of-control stallion is a dangerous animal.

Once the German soldiers passed us, we all stopped at the village of Brodowo. It was crowded with refugees, all looking for a little bit of food or water. We met Polish World War I veterans who told us a very bad news: World War II had started. Germany had invaded Poland. German airplanes were bombing Warsaw around the clock. The Polish army had gone up against German tanks with only rifles and bayonets, and many Poles had been killed.

Sixteen days later, the Soviet Union rolled into Poland to claim their half of the country in accordance with a secret agreement between Hitler and Stalin, which divided Poland between the two countries.

The Germans now occupied western Poland, east of Oder River, and the