A Polish Odyssey

As a part of our continuing effort to commemorate the incredible global story of WW2, we present our ongoing ‘Family Stories’ series. This series tells YOUR relatives’ stories of derring do - both on the front line and home front. In this episode we hear about British civilians preparing for guerilla war, bombs that remained hidden until the 1950s, a Polish pilot above Italy, and a moving final letter from beyond the grave. With thanks to Brian, David, Karl, and Richard Start your free trial at ⁠patreon.com/wehaveways⁠ and unlock exclusive content and more. Enjoy livestreams, early access, ad-free listening, bonus episodes, and a weekly newsletter packed with book deals and behind-the-scenes insights. Get your WHW Merch here! A Goalhanger Production Produced by James Regan Editor: Gabriela Gibbs Assistant Producer: Alfie Norris Exec Producer: Tony Pastor Social: @WeHaveWaysPod Social Producer: Harry Balden Email: [email protected] Membership Club: patreon.com/wehaveways Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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• 1:45Speaker 00

  Hello and welcome to our series of Family Stories, the podcast written by you, the listener. Today, we're bringing you a whole range of stories and accounts. British civilians preparing for your invasion, forgotten bombs beneath a farm, and the final letter of a soldier who never made it home. First of all, though, we have this story from Brian, who writes: "This account, written by my grandmother Myrtle Dorothy Mackey, might be of interest to the show. It features an evacuation, Molotov cocktails, and gives a good idea of how British civilians experienced the end of the phony war and prepared for the threat of invasion in 1940." Here is Myrtle's handwritten account of her experience. "My husband Sidney was a ship surveyor in the Sea Transport Ministry. At the beginning

• 2:27Speaker 00

  of 1940, he was working in London and we were living in Horsham, Sussex, to the southwest of the big city. Sid was so busy night after night, he could not spare the time to come home. Eventually, he decided to stay with my mother in Notting Hill, near central London where his office was. In spring of 1940, we were threatened with invasion by sea and parachute, so I evacuated to Dawlish in Devon with my son Colin, aged 11 years, and daughter Jan, five years old. While we were there, the Battle of Britain was fought, and those were anxious days with Sid in London. Jan remembered her daddy every night in her prayers, asking God to take care of him. "It was difficult to get accommodation in Dawlish, but I had very happy relations with all the people I met there. I got to know many of them as I agreed to take on the secretarial work at the Home Guard, though we were then called the Local Defence Volunteers.

• 3:12Speaker 00

  I enjoyed this clerical work and the very real contacts I made. The headquarters of this organisation was in the library of a large house belonging to Major Riley, a professor at Exeter University, who had a charming wife and three daughters. Everybody was doing their utmost following Mr Churchill's broadcast on the radio after Dunkirk." "It was in Mr Riley's garden that the Volunteers' Molotov bombs did their work, and what a mess they made of his beautiful garden. These bombs were made of highly flammable liquid put into bottles of all kinds, which were corked and bound at the cork with adhesive tape, which held a match. Quantities of these bombs were placed at strategic sites around the town and were to be used by the Home Guard against invaders. Jan and Colin, with the other children, helped to collect empty bottles of wine, soft drinks, vinegar, etc.

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  from the inhabitants of Dawlish. They also helped to wash, clean, and stack the bottles. The work went on for about three months. The weather was beautiful, and it seemed a sin to make such dreadful things in such beautiful surroundings. "Major Riley demonstrated the finished article on a garden roller. We all stood back about 20 yards. He made a direct hit, and truly, the resulting flames were widespread, leaping at least 10 feet in all directions. One day, I was working in the office at the house, the children in the garden under the guidance of 90-year-old Prudence Riley. Most people were doing their normal work and using their spare time preparing for the enemy, who we all felt were about to invade the country. Leaving the office to go home, I met Prudence at the gate. She was anxious about the delivery of a large stack of Molotov bombs which were

• 4:37Speaker 00

  waiting to be taken to the local fire station. I offered to take them in my car, a nine-horsepower Walsley Wasp which was at the gate. Plenty of Volunteers offered to load it. The boot was filled to capacity with bombs and all the backseat and floor space as well. There were about a dozen bombs in most of the cardboard boxes. I must have had at least 200 bombs on board. My daughter Jan sat at the front with me, and we started off. On the way, we passed the house we were staying, and the maid, who had been left in charge by the owner, was in the front garden. I stopped to show her a bomb, as she had wanted to know what one looked like. We then went on to the fire station, negotiating a very stiff corner on one of those shockingly steep hills common in Devon. The fireman took delivery of our cargo, and we went home. Next morning before 8am, there was a ring at our doorbell, and I hurried down in my

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  dressing gown just in time to see Major Riley driving off to the University of Exeter in his Humber. He gave me a wave and pointed to a parcel on the steps. He had bought me a box of chocolates. It was only then I realised what a great risk I had taken. One other night, we heard voices at the front of the house, and in the morning found Colin had left his bicycle outside. It had been taken by a special constable to the police station. We were forbidden to leave any transport about that could be used by the invader. The good offices of Prudence Riley enabled us to get off without a fine. "All the time we were in Devon, from May 1940 to the last day of the year, we heard enemy aircraft overhead practically every night, on their way to bomb Bristol and South Wales, with little defence against them. Air raid warnings would wail soon after dark,

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  and three to four hours later came the welcome all clear." Well, thank you for sharing your story, Brian.

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  This story comes from David, who writes: "I thought I'd tell you about what my family got up to in the war, but please don't expect tales of great heroics or incredible daring do. These are simply a few family experiences from that time. I live in the same small village of Rockbourne that my family have lived in for many years, nestled in the Chalk Valley, just a few miles south of Holland Headquarters. My grandparents on both sides of the family are farmers, and have been for a long time, and as reserved occupation, they spent the war busy digging for victory. One of my aunts was, in fact, a land girl who had moved in to help out. It wasn't till after her death, many years after the war, that I found out that she wasn't actually a member of the family, but had just settled

• 6:54Speaker 06

  in and had been adopted into the family for the rest of her life. My grandfather had a lucky escape one day. A straight German bomber decided to jettison his 1,000-kilogram bomb, and it whistled down and buried itself right in the middle of the farmyard as everyone looked on in astonishment. By an incredible piece of luck, it didn't explode, or I probably wouldn't be here to tell the story. It had buried itself so deep that they just decided to leave it where it was and cover it back over. It wasn't until the mid-1950s that it was decided it would probably be best to safely remove it. Gosh, a cocoa. Crikey. Like many people, my grandfather kept a diary, and his entry on February 8, 1944 makes for sombre reading.

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  "An American Douglas transport plane crashed on Coombe Hill. The crew and a number of British paratroopers lost their lives. I saw five of the bodies lying on the ground, an awful sight. It was one of a large formation, dropping parachutists." In his entry the next day, he says that he had learned that 11 men in total had lost their lives in the crash. "Only one family member was actually in active service. My great-uncle was an artilleryman in Burma, in Slim's forgotten 14th Army. He never talked much about his service, he just wanted to get on with his peaceful life, and was grateful to survive the whole affair. As the family war waffle addict, I have his campaign medals, including his Burma star. I hope this little snapshot of how the war touched the lives of every family, whether

• 8:21Speaker 06

  they were on the front lines or not, will be of interest to you." Ah, well, yes, it is. Thank you for sharing that story, David.

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  Undo your flu symptoms with NyQuil Intense Flu. The nighttime sniffling, aching, aching fever, best sleep with a flu medicine. You do got this. Uses directed, keep out of reach of children. Stonefire Naan is made with real buttermilk and ghee. It's the perfect flatbread for any occasion.

• 9:21Speaker 04

  I put out Stonefire Naan with dips at every dinner party.

• 9:25Speaker 03

  I make naan grilled cheese when my daughter has friends over.

• 9:28Speaker 05

  I use Stonefire Naan to reward the humans who do my bidding.

• 9:31Speaker 04

  Right. It's perfect for camping trips.

• 9:34Speaker 05

  Dance for it, feeble mortal.

• 9:36Speaker 04

  Sorry, is he talking to me or...

• 9:39Speaker 05

  Dance, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

• 9:41Speaker 03

  From our tradition to yours. Stonefire.

• 9:44Speaker 04

  Together we Naan.

• 9:47Speaker 00

  Right now, this next story is from Carl. Who writes? Many congratulations to you for how this amazing podcast has grown in its seven years. Well, yes, well, thank you very much. This is the story of my paternal grandfather. My paternal grandparents were born in the Second Polish Republic, which in the 1920s was somewhat isolated after fighting wars with basically all of its neighbours immediately following the Great War. My ancestors found themselves on either side of that conflict, being subject of both the Russian and Austro-Hungarian empires. My grandfather, Jan Grodzinski, born in 1921 in the town of Chelmsher, near Worszałza, was a combat engineer in training in 1939. He was folded into the hastily assembled Lublin Army, which stood up to the face of the German invasion.

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  On the 17th of September, the Soviets launched their own invasion from the east, hastening the Polish Army's collapse. What happened next is best described in Jan's own words. On September 29, 1939, the Russian Army in front, we were taken prisoner, disarmed and were given a vodka and food party, and they gave a big speech. We came to your country to liberate you and give you freedom and prosperity. Seven of us did not take the great offer and during the night escaped without saying goodnight to our liberators. A decision was made. We go to Lviv, and then to Hungary or Romania, and later France to join the new Polish Army. Difficult and hard journey, Russian Army and very unfriendly local Ukrainians. At Lviv, we rented two rooms with no furniture in order to make the preparation for the next part of our move.

• 11:18Speaker 00

  None of us knew this part of the country or the people. One member of our group had an old aunt. Her son was a doctor and very active in the scouting movement. We had to make plans for the future journey and to look busy, we decided to work. No food and started a job as bricklayers for the Soviet Army NKVD. The pay was very good and we gave our money to the people we knew or met. At the beginning of November, we told the bosses that we missed our families and were returning to Worszałza. We were paid and given plenty of food that was given to our new friends. Our plans were ready, the old Austrian compass in perfect condition, so, in nomine patris, let us go to the future. Sikorski's Army formed in France, under the command of General Wadyslaw Sikorski in late 1939, following the fall of Poland.

• 12:03Speaker 00

  Several units, totaling 85,000 troops, were organised when France was invaded on the 10th of May, 1940. Despite Marshal Philippe Pettin's calls for an armistice, Polish units fought on until they were ordered to evacuate to the UK to continue the struggle as England's ally. Jan was evacuated aboard the Polish ocean liner MS Batterie during Operation Aerial. As Polish units reformed in the UK, he initially continued his engineer training, but ultimately was transferred to the Polish Air Force in July 1942. After receiving his wings, he was assigned to Number 309 Land and Szwajcarien Squadron in April 1944. The squadron had been declared operational in December 1940 and was formed as an Army Cooperation Squadron, flying Lysanders.

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  It converted to a fighter squadron in 1942. In this capacity, it operated Hawker Hurricanes and North American Aviation Mustangs, of which Jan piloted both. While with Number 309 Squadron, Jan flew Atlantic convoy escorts and fighter sweeps over Norway. On the 20th of September 1944, Jan was rotated back to Blackpool before being transferred to Number 318 City of Cadence Squadron in March 1945. Number 318 Squadron was a tactical reconnaissance squadron activated in March 1943. The squadron converted from Hurricanes to Siberian Spitfires in 1944 and was active in Italy, even taking part in the Battle of Monte Cassino until it was disbanded in 1946. Jan followed the squadron to Italy and flew photo reconnaissance missions in Spitfires.

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  Squadron emblem painted on the aircraft, three playing cards, was inspired by the pilots constantly playing cards. Jan told my father that they would wager how much time they had left to live. However, while in Blackpool, Jan met a young Polish leading aircraft woman named Victoria Barbara Rataszjak. Victoria, born in 1926 in the town of Tsani, which lies in modern day Ukraine, she had made her way to Blackpool from Poland via Siberia to Kazakhstan, Persia, the Transjordan, Palestine and Egypt. In Palestine, she completed high school and transferred to the Women's Army Corps. She was evacuated to the UK in 1944 due to malaria, where she joined the Polish Air Force as an electrician. When Jan learned that he was going to Italy with Number 318 Squadron, or as he recorded

• 14:14Speaker 00

  it, posting to sunny Italy to see girls, Victoria told him she would marry him if he made it back alive. Sure enough, Jan returned with a grin upon his face and the two married. They were demobbed in 1946 and had two children before immigrating to Canada. Despite being on the winning side, they could not return home and they were given their choice of the dominions. Family law says their line up to go to Canada was the shortest. Jan and Victoria arrived from the UK, settling in Hamilton, Ontario and had a third child, my father. During the 1950s, Jan participated in a Royal Canadian Air Force Reserve training programme that allowed pilots to maintain proficiency should mobilisation be necessary. He flew chipmunks that had been assigned to the Hamilton Flying Club.

• 14:59Speaker 00

  I was too young and too shy to get many stories out of Jan before he died. The most memorable was that his squadron purchased a Messerschmitt BF109 from another squadron for a bottle of whisky and sold it to an American squadron for two bottles of whisky, coming out well ahead in his opinion.

• 15:15Speaker 00

  Jan was a wild and dashing man, who died in 2005, aged 84, no doubt with a smirk on his face. He was also exceptionally proud of his certificate in English from Oxford. It was framed on his dining room wall. One of his Hurricanes, LF363, which rolled off the lines on the 1st of January 1944, still flies today with the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight, despite a crash in 1991. Keep up the great work, gentlemen, and thank you so much for recording our family stories. That was from Carl. Thanks for sharing. Amazing! The BBMF Hurricane, zooming into the story.

• 15:48Speaker 06

  This last story comes from Richard, and this is the story of William Edgar Heslop, my grandad Will's cousin. My dad David recently told me of a letter that stayed within the family, a letter William, known as Edgar, wrote to his parents in case of the untimely event of his death. Unfortunately, the letter itself has been lost, but luckily, my dad had already digitised what was written. I'm unsure of the details of Edgar's death, but he served in the Honourable Artillery Company in Africa, Sicily and finally Italy, where he was killed in action in September 1944 at the age of 23. Ah, dear. As per many other family members at the time, Edgar's parents ran a milk house in Liverpool.

• 16:32Speaker 06

  Edgar was very bright and did classics at Oxford University, where he achieved a BA Ons. Much to his parents' distress, Edgar joined the Royal Artillery in 1940. Before he went abroad, Edgar wrote this letter to his parents. I feel Edgar's letter needs remembering. Nottingham, 1942. My very dear mother and father. It is my fervent hope that you will never have to read these words, for when you do, you will know that I am probably dead. I'm writing this letter in Nottingham before my departure for the east, not with any premonition that I may not come back, but because I feel that if anything does happen to me, I don't want you to have an official notification and then nothing.

• 17:13Speaker 06

  I'm sure that in these circumstances, you would prefer some word from me, such as this letter, rather than an unbroken silence. In the first place, I want to say, over and above all, please don't be too upset. It has been God's will that I should not come back. I'm prepared to accept his decision. You must do the same. God has seen fit to bring sorrow on you, but he will bring soothing relief in sorrow's train. So, you must not be too distressed. You must abide by the words oft-repeated in prayer. Thy will be done in earth as in heaven. In God alone you will find comfort, for this is part of his divine purpose. I want to take this opportunity of saying, once and for all, just how much I owe to

• 17:58Speaker 06

  you, my dear and beloved parents. You've done everything possible for me. You've given me every chance. From the earliest days which I can remember as a little child, I recall how I was never without anything which would help me without spoiling me. I was denied nothing. But at the same time, I am proud to say, he didn't spoil me. I had everything I could possibly need, but you had never allowed me to get silly ideas, to think I was better than anyone else. That is what I thank you for, above all. I went to an ordinary school, I mixed with ordinary boys, I went out with the milk, even though sometimes I didn't want to, when you might have easily sent me to a private school and brought me up as an effeminate little gentleman. Thanks to your encouragement and interest, I was fortunate enough to reach Oxford, but

• 18:43Speaker 06

  I should never have done it if I hadn't had a father and mother like you, who did everything in your power to help me. I can never express just how grateful I am to you for all the chances you've given me. All I can say, Mum and Dad, is that I simply owe everything to you. I was sorry in some ways that after all the education you worked to give me, I didn't seem to have gained any concrete success, particularly so when this entailed my going abroad and causing you considerable distress. But to me, the Army was only a continuation of my education, or rather, the main and important part of my education, and I had hoped to return to my studies with a fresh, invigorated mind, a new, more realistic view of life.

• 19:24Speaker 06

  I only wish I could have wiped all this out by completing my time at Oxford and attaining a position which would have given you some kind of satisfaction after all your trouble. I am really sorry that I have not been able to attempt to pay back even a part, I can never pay at all, it is so enormous, of the debt of gratitude which I owe to you by being a comfort and interest to you as you grew older. That is my only regret. For myself, I'm quite contented and resigned to whatever my fate is to be. I hope it will be some consolation to know that I went abroad a confirmed believer in God's power, with confidence and assurance based on my trust in Him, content to submit to His will if He decided that I should not return to England. You may rest assured that I have died with few regrets.

• 20:07Speaker 06

  Thanks to your constant love, kindness and encouragement, my life, though short, has been a very happy and full one in every respect. I've had a wonderful home life and every advantage such wonderful parents as you could give me. I've been in love with a marvellous girl whom I had hoped to one day make my wife. I've had the opportunity of travelling all over my own country and visiting many of its natural beauty spots, the Lake District with its unparalleled rugged grandeur, the Yorkshire Dales, the Moors of Derbyshire and the plains of Cheshire and Shropshire, the beautiful country of Hereford and the Welsh border, the wonderful cliffs of Devon and the Monmouth Hills above the Russell Channel, and the glorious Y Valley, the beautiful

• 20:48Speaker 06

  Avon Country, the quaint Isle of Man, the woods and green fields of Oxfordshire, and last but not least, Suffolk, the agricultural jewel of England, where I was fortunate enough to meet Paddy. These are most vivid among my memories. I've been abroad too, and I have seen the fields of France and the lighthearted gaiety of her cae free people, the wonderful snow-clad Alps, the industrial north of Italy and her barren southern wastes, the glorious Adriatic and even more glorious Aegean which laps the shores of the land of Greece, outstanding for its beauty and interest. I will never forget the Acropolis bathed in an atmosphere of ancient grandeur, or the mountain scenery of Delphi, the snowy

• 21:32Speaker 06

  slopes of Parnassus, and the narrow track leading through the valley to the sea. I have mixed with people of all races and all occupations. I have seen human nature in every mood, at its worst and at its best. I've had very few dull moments. I have seen life in every sense of the word, and I have enjoyed it. I will just repeat, I have had a full, interesting and happy life. What could any man want more than this? I can only end as I began by asking you not to be distressed for my sake, but to put your trust in God and in Him find comfort and symphony. So, until we meet again, as

• 22:12Speaker 06

  we most certainly shall do, Mum and Dad, I will say goodbye and keep smiling. Your ever-loving son, Edgar.

• 22:22Speaker 06

  Well, goodness me, that's some letter, isn't it? And thank you, Richard, for sharing this extremely moving letter.

• 22:30Speaker 00

  Well, a huge thank you to our contributors today, Brian, David, Carl and Richard. To be featured in one of our family stories episodes or in our newsletter, please email us at [email protected]. And don't forget to label the email family stories so that we won't miss it. If you have any images or videos we can use as part of your family story too, please include them with your submission. If you'd like to hear more stories such as these, sign up to our Patreon, wehaveways/patreon.com. Thanks for listening. Cheerio.

• 23:00Speaker 06

  Cheerio.

• 23:08Speaker 02

  The wheel had roads. Electricity had the grid. Innovation needs infrastructure. Plaid makes AI work in finance. Visit plaid.com/ai to learn more.

• 23:24Speaker 07

  Honey, that flu keeping you up? Yeah, I don't got this. You need Nyquil Intense Flu.

• 23:29Speaker 03

  Undo your flu symptoms with Nyquil Intense Flu. The nighttime sniffling, aching, aching fever, best sleep with a flu medicine. You do got this. Use as directed, keep out of reach of children. Stonefire Naan is made with real buttermilk and ghee. It's the perfect flatbread for any occasion.

• 23:43Speaker 04

  I put out Stonefire Naan with dips at every dinner party.

• 23:46Speaker 05

  I make naan grilled cheese when my daughter has friends over. I use Stonefire Naan to reward the humans who do my bidding.

• 23:53Speaker 04

  Right, it's perfect for camping trips.

• 23:56Speaker 05

  Dance for it, feeble mortal.

• 23:58Speaker 04

  Sorry, is he talking to me or?

• 24:01Speaker 05

  Dance, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

• 24:03Speaker 03

  From our tradition to yours, Stonefire.

• 24:06Speaker 05

  Together we Naan.