POLISH TROOPS IN BRITAIN

Press, Volume LXXVI, Issue 23130, 20 September 1940, Page 3

POLISH TROOPS IN BRITAIN

PREPARING FOR NEXT

PHASES

SEASONED CAMPAIGNERS

FROM WARSAW

LONDON, August 2. Under the terms of the agreement concluded in London on August 25, 1939, the Governments of Great Britain and of Poland each undertook, in the event of either becoming involved in Hostilities with any European Power, to give the other "all the support and assistance in its power” (writes Peter Matthews in the “Daily Telegraph”). I have just returned from a visit to the -Polish units which, after the collapse of French resistance, came to this country to fulfil their half of the bargain. They form part of the powerful Allied forces, including French, Belgian, Dutch, Norwegian, and Czech troops, who are preparing to lend their aid in the “Battle of Britain." For obvious reasons it is impossible to reveal the strength of the Polish forces, but it can be disclosed that the men of the Polish Air Force alone are numbered in their thousands. I talked in their camps with men who have fought in every phase of the struggle against Germany. By far the greater part of the Poles now in this country fought through last September. I talked to one of the many pilots who volunteered for service in Finland. I watched a march-past of men of the Mountain Brigade who fought at Narvik, Officers both of the Army and the Air Force told me the story of their escape from the Germans and from France after the capitulation of the Petain Government. They revived for mo the poignant memories of the heroic defence of Warsaw. The time may come when some of them will tell the world what happened then, and subsequently; of how they left Poland for France, and, later, France for this country. Here now is an outline of it. Escape From France

When Russia’s intervention, on September 17, sealed the fate of Polish resistance in Poland itself, units which had been depleted by fierce fighting with the German invader passed over the eastern frontier into Hungary and Rumania. From there they made their way into Italy and so to France. • I watched some of these men marching past their general behind the standards which have accompanied them from Poland. One flying instructor told me how with seven brother officers he had made his way to the Rumanian frontier after watching the arrival of the advance guards of the Russian army in September. He had taken part, as pilot of a French fighter aircraft. in combats with German bombers over Paris: when France collapsed he had succeeded in making his way to Marseilles, and now he is waiting to be incorporated in a unit of the Royal Air Force. A group of artillerymen who had succeeded in boarding a French vessel saw themselves threatened with disaster because the French crew refused to take them to a British port. They had no alternative but to seize the vessel’s guns and compel the crew to bring them to safety. A second group, who had been fighting with a brigade of Polish mechanised cavalry in Eastern France, succeeded in evading the Germans and in resisting attempts to disarm them, and brought three tanks to Saint Jean de Luz. They were bitterly disappointed when it proved impossible to embark their tanks, but they themselves succeeded in getting away. One large contingent, which had marched night and day, doing as much as 45 miles in 24 hours, reached Saint Jean de Luz an hour before the last ship was scheduled to sail for England. The difficulty of embarking them was increased by a sudden storm, in which seven men were drowned. Yet another contingent had an almost miraculous escape when they reached the coast at La Rochelle. After an ex-

hausting retreat they had embarked and were on the point of leaving when the ship developed engine trouble. They had just installed themselves on another transport when the first was attacked by a German bomber and set on fire. One of the “casualties” of the evacuation of France was the mobile canteen, capable of feeding 2000 men. which Lady Warrender, wife of the Financial Secretary to the Admiralty, had equipped with the assistance of English friends of the Polish Armed Forces. Lady Warrender was visiting one of the camps at the same time that I was, bringing with her musical instruments for the troops. She told me that to make quite sure that her canteen should not fall into German hands she had put it into first gear and sent it crashing down a hill into the sea. The Polish officers and men have been quick to acclimatise themselves to their new environment. They are fortunate in their surroundings: two of the camps command magnificent views over pastureland, with blue hills in the background; the tents are pitched among pine trees, and the ■scenery reminds the men of parts of their native country. Praise for the British

The general in command of one large camp is sleeping under canvas with his staff and sharing the simple but excellent food which is served to the men. I heard nothing but praise for the way in which the British military authorities are ministering to their needs.

At the military hospital which Polish doctors are organising in a commandeered hotel we saw three large Army lorries unloading mattresses and other supplies; tents and field kitchens had been furnished in abundance. By local benefactions four wireless sets have been provided for the entertainment of the troops at one of the camps, and it is hoped that others may be forthcoming. One camp enjoys its own daily newspaper, produced on a typewriter. This is supplemented by a weekly paper in Polish, printed in London.

Many times during my visit I passed columns of Polish troops on the march.

I I was introduced to one of Warsaw’s leading architects and to a variety artist well known in Poland. Both are privates. An engineer had come from the United States to fight for his country in France. A sergeant I met had been wireless operator in the m.v. Pilsudski, Poland’s largest transAtlantic liner, when she was torpedoed last autumn. A lieutenant who had been a leading businessman in a city of Western Poland told me that numbers of his friends had been shot by the Germans as part of the systematic, policy of “liquidating” everyone who might act as a leader in resistance to the Gestapo. Almost invariably the men sang as they marched; they have the Welshman’s genius for part-singing, and their songs have a strange mixture of gaiety and sadness. Each day in camp begins and ends with the singing of a hymn, and each camp has its chaplain. Officers and men are eagerly learning English. I passed one large group sitting on the grass and reciting, after their officer, in stentorian tones, “Good, better, best; hot, hotter, hottest; cold, colder, coldest,” One officer who had been adopted by a young lady of 11 and her two little sisters was receiving private tuition. I found, in fact, that the language lessons are reciprocal. The stationmaster had learned to demand tickets in Polish, and the local ice-cream vendor (a girl) had mastered the Polish for “choc-bar” and could count up to 10 with a passable accent. • —-