John’s paternal family tree - narrative

Anderson James William: from Shetland News, Thursday 23rd November 1939

SHETLANDER'S ESCAPE FROM POLAND
MR JAMES W. ANDERSON'S BROADCAST.
(By Permission of the B.B.C)

On Wednesday, 8th inst., Mr James W. Anderson, eldest son of Mrs Catherine Anderson, Brough, Burravoe, broadcast from London his experiences of his escape from Poland when the Germans entered that city. Mr Anderson had been a teacher of English in Lodz since 1926, and he married shortly before the Nazis over-ran Poland. His broadcast was as follows:-
Lodz, sometimes called the Polish Manchester, is a large manufacturing centre about one hundred miles west of Warsaw. The German troops entered the city on the 6th September, and I made my escape on the morning of the same day.
With me were my wife and three other Britons. We had arranged to leave by car; but at
the last moment the car was confiscated by the military authorities, and we had perforce to go on foot. Everything we possessed was left behind.

So we started on a journey.which led us right across, Poland and lasted twenty one days. During that time, we covered a distance or over five hundred miles, four hundred.on foot, and the remainder in peasant carts which we bought or hired along.the way. We passed through three armies, the Polish army in retreat, the German army in possession, and the 'Russian army advancing.

We had many extraordinary adventures and saw 'many terrible things. There.was, for examp1e, the time when we were machine-gunned by a German ‘plane on the road between Lodz and Warsaw I was driving the horse which.we had bought a short time before from a peasant, when the planes came overhead. Although the road had been crowded with people, it was empty in a couple of seconds, for the people were now very clever at hiding themselves away. I hid myself in the ditch nearby, leaving the horse standing in the middle of the road. He stood stock still; but from where I was lying I could see his legs trembling violently as the bullets thudded into the road around him. Fortunately nobody was hit; but I examined the horse very carefully before I was convinced that he too was untouched.

A TERRIBLE NIGHT

Then there was that terrible night in the Hotel Europejski in Warsaw when the German artillery began to bombard the city, I awoke to find the city in flames. The houses across the street stood out stark and clear against the glare in the sky beyond. I knew that the siege of Warsaw had begun and that it was time to get out.
That same morning we crossed the Vistula by way of the Poniatowski bridge, which was still standing in spite of repeated efforts by the German ‘planes to destroy it. That was a nervous moment, and we could not be blamed for breaking into a run as we approached the other side.
Then there were those nightmare drives along pitch dark roads with the retreating Polish army. The roads were packed from side to side with traffic, and traffic jams, often stretching for miles in the darkness.
Once we were arrested as spies by Polish troops who heard us speaking English and mistook us for Germans. We spent one whole long broiling morning with the police before we were set at liberty.

FIRST CONTACT WITH GERMAN TROOPS.

The high point of the trip, however, was when we first came in contact with the German troops.
One evening we were sitting in a little village preparing our meal of potatoes and lard – our staple food for most of the journey – when we heard machine-gun fire. Looking up we saw a column of German motorized troops coming down the road about a hundred yards away. They were machine-gunning the village and pumping incendiary bombs into the houses around us.
Again we had to get out quickly.
Behind the village was a ridge, and we managed to cross this under a hail of machine-gun fire. We crept on hands and knees between the rows of ripe potatoes and lay flat when the machine-guns swept the ridge. When we were safely across, we made off into the gathering darkness, setting our course by the stars.

DESPERATELY TIRED AND FOOTSORE

Midway on our trip we found it impossible to reach the Roumanian frontier, which was our first objective. So we turned north, and then followed the weary treck north to the Lithuanian frontier through east Poland. Often we were desperately tired and footsore; but we met with much kindness on the way and finally managed to get through.
Then there was the final adventure of getting across the frontier, and here we had to pass through the Russian army.
Earlier that day the Russians had forbidden us to cross; but we got two smugglers to guide us through their lines during the night. On the way we had to pass through the Lithuanian frontier guards as well.
The final act came when the smuggler waded across a little stream and, taking us on his back one by one, deposited us on Lithuanian soil. Much as I loved Poland, I was relieved to be again in a country which was at peace.