I found one just like it! I lost it here last year! But there must have been money in it! Give it here, Izyda! And with a German purse? Szmit turned to Izyda. One could not possibly imagine a bloodthirstier fantasy or a greater degradation on the part of scribbling Polish slanderers and liars.
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What can possess the soul of a Polish scribbler who imagines that he is elevating his own people with oak clusters and golden lutes, depicting the Teutonic Knights as whoremongers carousing around with stolen money, bellowing like pigs, while at the same time a priest of his own people is described sinking his arm bloodily to above the elbow into the breast of a barbarian, in search of his heart?
Who, then, is the greater barbarian: But one can hardly expect so much logic from Polish writers, whose only concern is to sow hatred at any price. Polish literature is intended for long term effect, and depends upon the short memories of other nationalities, as well as on the well-known good nature and helpfulness of the Germans — as well as on German stupidity, which inclines us to believe all the lies told by other people — people who ridicule us in practically every novel, not to mention their proverbs.
People swindle you with sheer cleverness. The whole point of Polish literature is simply to portray the Poles as the most good natured, the noblest, most heroic people in the world, while branding the Germans as the greediest, dumbest, most cowardly, degraded, and cruel. Constant exposure to this poison is bound to awaken the cruellest instincts, instincts which cry for war to get revenge, although one does not even know why. And since the Germans are represented not only as stupid but as cowardly as well, the entire Polish people is educated in arrogance, and taught to overestimate themselves.
Thus, even responsible officials in the Ministry of War in believed that all they needed to do was to order Polish troops on horseback, armed with lances decorated with pennants, to attack German tanks, and then ride through the Brandenburg Gate as victors. The awakening was a bitter one. But the guilt for that, of course, lay, not with the frivolous, arrogant Poles, but with the wicked Germans, who had tanks. This is a perfect example of the manner in which the Poles are unable to learn from history. In , the Cossack leader Chmielnicki annihilated them under identical circumstances.
For Chmielnicki and his host these splendid cavaliers expressed the utmost contempt. Only the bloodthirsty descriptions contained in Polish novels, the systematic education in hatred, the demands for the extermination of every German inhabitant of the area, which the Poles merely took to heart and imbibed, could lead to the orgy of murder on Bloody Sunday in Bromberg, Bereza Kurtuska, and, later, in Lamsdorff.
The Polish people were fed on this literature for two hundred years, from the 18th to the 20th centuries. This is in addition to the hereditary heritage of the Mongolian hordes of earlier wars, a heritage determined by blood. Blood is not just a body fluid. Suitably instigated, it exploded in an avalanche of crimes against ethnic Germans which is without parallel in the world.
Then began the manhunt for the Germans. This, too, was typical Polish thanks for benefits received. The following events, especially in Bromberg on Sunday, 3 September , were of such cruelty that the human mind has difficulty believing them. And yet they are true. In my possession are pages of photocopies of official records and sworn statements, in addition to accompanying photographic evidence, of horrifyingly mutilated bodies, proving the kind of murder orgies of which the Poles are capable.
In addition to these pages from the secret archives of the Reichsgovernment, pages of text and photographic documentation were published relating to the preliminary history of the Second World War, which material is also available to me, proving the irrefutable testimony of diplomats regarding the Polish atrocities. The crimes committed were comparable to those described in the novels.
But in the novels they were invented, and attributed to the Teutonic Knights. Here, they were actually committed — because people were instigated and encouraged to commit them, and because weapons had been distributed in the churches for that purpose. Where these weapons did not suffice, the Poles used knives, axes, saws, hammers, automobile parts, daggers, hatchets, shovels, whips, fence lathes, clubs, pickaxes, iron bars, and metal-studded clubs, etc. Germans were murdered indiscriminately without regard to age, profession, social position, religion, or sex: The victims were not shot by firing squad: The victims were shot, beaten to death, stabbed, tortured to death, without reason; the majority, in addition, were mutilated in an animal-like manner.
These were deliberate murders, committed mostly by Polish soldiers, policemen or gendarmes, as well as by armed citizens, classical secondary school students, and apprentices. Everywhere, a definite method was followed, leading naturally to the inference of a centrally planned, uniform programme of murder. The open, and even admitted, aim of Polish policy was the extinction of Germanness. Literature, among other things, was an instrument of this policy, as a means to which hatred was deliberately fomented. I prefer to show the results of this systematic education in hatred.
I do not wish to reproduce more than 3 photographs, as they appeared in the forensic medical report of the Supreme Command of the Armed Forces, accompanied by graphic evidence, and printed in the pages of text and photographic documents on the preliminary history of the Second World War, from the archive of the Reichsgovernment. To show more than these 3 photographs would constitute intolerable cruelty to the human soul, which I wish to spare the reader.
Not only do the Poles deny the atrocities they committed, they brazenly twist the truth and allege that the ethnic Germans killed 25, poles in Bromburg, in eternal remembrance to which they even erected a monument to their imaginary dead. Every name is that of the actual witness, every description is based on sworn statements. That which is contained in a hundred official records of a few words each is described here in consecutive images of the inhuman crimes of the Polish population against the innocent and helpless Germans, revealing a spiritual attitude on the part of the Poles which deprives them of their claim to a place in European culture.
The reader must be allowed repeated pauses in the description of the horrifying martyrdom and murderous fury to which the ethnic Germans were exposed, because the normal human mind cannot tolerate such cruelty. Through these massacres of the Germans, the Poles have forfeited all claim to pride and honour. That they dare to turn to the Germans today and beg for help, and actually accept such help, is a clear index of their character. Even if they erect a hundred monuments in Bromberg intended to prove the contrary, they can in no way conceal the real monument erected by Erich Dwinger to the slaughtered ethnic Germans in his book.
For some time now, the Poles have also made it known, in their usual way, that camp Lamdsdorff is supposed to have been a real sanitorium for the Germans held there. They proceed in this connection exactly as they did with their monument in Bromberg. I therefore recommend that every German should read the report of the Lamsdorff camp doctor, Dr. Yet no Polish priest steps forward to defend the truth; on the contrary, they demand belief in Polish innocence, which is, after all, only a lie. The misuse of religion for political purposes is obvious, because, strangely enough, no one is scandalized by these events.
Even German Catholics in Germany turn a blind eye, even though the inhuman persecutors of Bloody Sunday in Bromberg made no distinction between Evangelical and Catholic Germans; on the contrary, Catholics who declared themselves to be Germans often suffered worse than the others. I will now reproduce some sworn statements by Catholic priests on these crimes, which were taken down by the War Crimes Investigation Office of the Supreme Command of the Armed Forces;.
Pater Breitinger, pastor for the German Catholics of Posen, writes as follows on the procession of kidnapped persons out of Posen:. Kempf, 25 years old, murdered at Wiesenau, district of Hohensalza.
With her were killed: Killed by pistol shots through the skull a , in addition to mutilation of the 4th and 5th fingers of the right hand b , with amputation of the ring finger c. The victim was nearing the natural termination of her pregnancy. The embryo was found partially expelled from the abdominal cavity. Rather, birth began during the death agony of the mother. As to the facts: Upon my request to be permitted to take some changes of clothing and food with me, he replied that this would not be necessary, that I would be released to go home inside half an hour.
Another police officer was waiting in front of the cloister with his pistol drawn; both policemen drove me, together with three other arrested persons, like dangerous criminals, to the police station. There, a police official placed me under arrest, and pressed a certificate of arrest into my hand against receipt, whereupon I saw that I was really going to be interned.
In the police courtyard, I met about 20 people I knew; I spent the night together with them under an open sky. Additional transports filled with companions in misfortune arrived during the night from other parts of the city. The Elder of my cloister attempted to intervene with regards to my arrest with the supreme commandant of the police administration. You dare to intervene for such a man?
You must be mixed up with spies. You deserve a bullet through your head like the others. My Elder was so astonished that he later told me that, at that moment, he felt ashamed to be Polish for the first time. The commandant, however, replied that, unfortunately, he could do nothing, since all power was in the power of the military.
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On 2 September , we had to line up in 2 groups. A police officer in civilian clothes then deprived us of our civil rights in the name of the voivode, and furthermore remarked that we were now to march into a camp; and that anyone who did not march properly on the street would be shot on the spot.
The police then loaded their weapons, took out their sidearms, and then led us through the streets of Posen to Glowno. The crowd became violent at the old market as well, and we were hit with sticks, kicked, struck by flying rocks, so that we were already covered with bruises when we arrived in the suburb of Glowno. In a restaurant in Glowno, I was filled with hope when a Catholic priest, the Vicar of Glowno, entered the room. In particular, I hoped to meet with understanding and protection from him, and above all, information as to our future.
I was immeasurably astonished when the priest began to interrogate me as to whether I was not really a spy in disguise, asking in a brusque tone asked why, then, had I fought with weapons in my hands against Poland? Totally speechless, I gave up any attempt at further conversation with him.
Late in the afternoon, we were led to a great meadow, which was surrounded by a large crowd. Two other groups were also interned there, including women and children, two cripples who could hardly walk — war invalids with wooden legs — and a great crowd with bandaged heads, whose clothes were covered with blood.
On the meadow, we were arranged in groups of four, and were counted. We were then placed under the command of the leader of our guards, consisting of a few policemen and various humanities students in the uniform of military youth organizations, and made to exercise and sing a hateful anti-German song. He then made me step forward in my clerical clothing, and perform exercises all by myself, to the howls of the crowd. We then had to return to Schwersenz through a gauntlet of excited people who spat on us, threw rocks, and kicked us.
The accompanying guards did nothing to protect us from this mistreatment or, if they had any desire to do so, they were utterly powerless or lacked the strength to do so. In Schwersenz, the animalistic crowd beat both children and cripples sitting on wagons with sticks until the sticks broke in pieces. The next day, I noticed that representatives of almost all German organizations as well as the entire German priesthood had been driven together. These were without exception men who were convinced that they had always conscientiously fulfilled their public duties to the Polish state, and therefore could not understand why they were now being treated worse than dangerous criminals.
I received a very rude negative answer from the leader of our accompanying guards. Running the gauntlet of heavy blows with cudgels and kicks, we were then marched through Kostrzyn to Wreschen. Here we received more blows with cudgels and kicks. Here, my Cardinal drove by, who must have recognized me as an internee from Posen.
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But he did nothing to intervene for us. In Wreschen, we had to exercise in a room for a while; they made us stand up, sit down, kneel down, etc.
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