It's 4 p.m. I'm in the Boduena str.! Mum feels better. The Uprising outbroke, I must rush to my people, while Dad forbad me. Despite the oath given to Dad that I would take part in the Uprising, I will go for sure! I decided I would not have home since that day, it can't be helped, Dad can deny me; I just feel too much and lobe too strong. Well, I'm staying in the gate together with our boys who have got one PM (a machine gun) and one anti-tank rifle, Germans are losing their head. A moment ago a patrol was passing and they started shooting. Step by step, our boys are capturing more and more houses, more and more streets. Germans are shooting from the Main Post. They have got guns and there are lots of them. I keep wandering from one group of our boys to another, observing and giving help.
         I like a young nurse "Hajduczek" a lot, she is the one who has paid my attention to my roaming and kept asking of my unit. I got to know that at night I would probably meet my people. Lost, they were to form there. Looking forward to that, I sticked by her and helped to dress wounds. The moment when I first saw a torn hand, immensity of blood and a pale face of the wounded - was horrible...

         August 2
         Terrible night, as if it was a bat with black wings followed by death. Death that was lying in wait for each of these young human beings. It was death that has kept guard on us. After waking up, I heard the lieutenant's voice, "My dear ones, there is a tank in the Szpitalna str. and it should be taken away, right?" We agreed, having no idea. I ran downstairs to see they were working by flagons with petrol, denatured alcohol and paraffin. We kept pouring it into bottles and blending, the quicker the better. Closer and closer bad murmurs of "Tiger" were heard. An order - bottles upstairs, quickly, more quickly! There was patter of feet everywhere. The tank came closer, it was under the balcony. A strong hand threw the first bottle, then the second, the third, then other hands kept appearing: weak, childlike, then strong ones, then girlish hands. The tank is destroyed, now it's burning. It is unknown, whose hand has found a target. Shots again, German guns at the Post hurt us a lot. Beloved, adored by everyone lieutenant "Ryś", also "Szary" and others died. She, my beloved nurse, was a fiancée of the first of the above-mentioned. She was crying, cuddled up to me, a golden medallion from his mother in her hand. He was an only son, such a dear boy, we were to get married, she whispered in tears. I was comforting her in such words: the Homeland needs these casualties from us. God - I heard the sob and the spasm of this poor face. Suddenly we heard women's yell that on the roof the boy by the machine gun was wounded seriously. We ran to the roof. Men helped us and brought him down from the roof. Then we were given sheets and dressed his wounds. But he was dying, the poor fellow. I was looking at that, my heart hurt.
         At night everybody was running. I was on the front line and was taking the wounded.
         I met "Niuśka" and we both decided to look for our boys. I said goodbye to Mum and for the time being I helped the boys in our house. The fight was both horrible and magnificent. Since 5 a.m. we had been filling bottles with petrol and paraffin, then taking them to the balcony and throwing on tanks. What madness! The tank by the gate was no longer dangerous. Germans were in flames. I was giving the boys weapons and food. I thought a bit about Dad and Marian. I knew that Mum was looked after. I made a decision to fight, like they, like everyone I was staying with.

         August 3
         I have nothing to do here. I feel like a tramp. Lieutenant noticed my worried face and asked about it. I replied that my duty was to find my people as they had no sanitary supply, etc. He agreed with me, I said goodbye, he required my come back but I did not promised that. My friendly soldier-friends shook hands with me. Bye - I went away together with my friend "Niuśka", a thin pale girl who thanked God that she had met me. By the wall two shadows were strolling. We had to run across the Marszałkowska str. quickly. We heard shots behind us, it did not matter, we reached the Złota str. The Chłodna 18 str. was our outpost.
         But it was far away. Snipers made our way hard. Here and there - you are not allowed to go - we are under fire. My friend is persistent, which makes me happy. In the Leszno str. a tank is shelling the Chłodna str. - certainly it's impossible to cross the street today. "Niuśka" is close to tears. I'm anxious. We are spending the night at a sanitary outpost. There are our two friends from our unit and one boy. We are having tasty supper and can sleep for excellent four hours on the fourth floor. Then we are marching towards Wola. We are a large group, members of "Parasol" exclusively, it's jolly. An action is being planned for tomorrow.
         I'm very sorry and frantic with grief - I have carelessly broken a bottle with petrol and cannot forgive myself such waste.

         August 4
         I'm at the quarters. It's raining cats and dogs. "What horrible rain, lieutenant "Mirski" complains, III Company isn't here". I can see many friends, each of the girls have been in the action, each is a good peer, happy with our arrival. But they don't trust us fully. I feel the need of something like initiation, we can't be at ease. Our boys and girls, with whom we are in close relation, are not here. I Company is also missing. "They are in the action, in the City centre. Maybe tomorrow they will all come back", said "Mirski".
         Boys from II Company successfully attacked warehouses full of uniforms and brought jackets and great camouflage trousers. I'm putting them on, pulling on my armand and trying to get a pass. I want to go and say goodbye to Dad so I report my wish to the commander, lieutenant "Mirski". "All right, go my child but be careful" - he looked at me with father-like grey eyes. His dignity was strange for me as he was 22.
         Again I'm running by the wall, crossing the Kerceli Square. Bullets are whistling, I'm explaining myself that nothing can hit me. Then I'm in the Leszno, then Ogrodowa str., now I must go along a burnt house. I'm proud of myself, I feel pleasure because I've got a smart uniform, an armband with all the numbers and stamps. I must look like a boy - somebody patted me on the back. I keep running. It's the Kazimierz Square - I see Dad in the gate.
         "Henia! I knew it was going to be like that - he looked at my armband - you'd never said anything, you conspired well. But you promised me to keep an eye on our house." "Father, it had to be like that, forgive me. The Homeland is the most important. I will not come back home. Mum is being looked after. I wish for your blessing. You suffered, father, and said: It would be a shame to lose you, daughter." "Bye!" - I shouted and ran dowstairs. Somebody was crying but at that moment it was unimportant.

         August 5
         I'm reporting myself at the headquarters. I've come back. I have an order to report myself at the logistics. My duty is to take care of feeding my friends. It's 12 o'clock - I must take a soup from the kitchen, in the evening coffee must be brought and I have to strive for tinned food and bread. If I am chosen by the commander - be on the line.
         The boys have come back. Jurek ("Spokojny"), Czesław ("Madziar"), Staszek ("Bolek"), Jureczek, lead by "Mors", there is also "Słowacki" and others. "Niuśka" is upset. Her beloved boy, Szarak, the commander of our squad, is missing. He's been wounded and is unable to fight. We feel sorry for him. He is our dear friend, craving for the Uprising so much - this fulfilled dream has become his suffering. We are comforting "Niuśka", telling her he would come back soon - it's just a leg.
         As for my friends from Company, only "Jana" and Krysia are accompanying me. We are providing food while the boys are marching away for the action. It's 8 p.m., dusk, "Tigers" are attacking heavily in the Młynarska str., we are staying in the Gibalskiego str.

         August 6
          [I was chosen to guard German captives. There are three of us (young and slim girls), we've got weapons. I know it's distressing but I'm not sure… Would I make a quick decision and shoot well if danger appeared? The captives are lying calmly. Almost everyone is wounded so they don't behave rowdily. Such guard - girls - must look ridiculously in comparison to such well-built men. I'm passing through the room, attentive glances at me. "Maks MD" has come, looked at wounds and gave instructions. After his leaving, one of the captives wanted me to talk with him for a while. I came closer. The German looked at me quite strangely and pitifully, then he asked for matches, lit a cigarette and thanked me. He had good-looking eyes. I was irritated (well, among enemies one can find good people) but I hate all of them, we had been suffering too much, and he knew about it.]
         Our boys are beating Germans. They keep attacking tanks with the aid of bottlers. An armless man is stopping the motorized army. The spirit fights iron and steel. But there are many wounded people, we help - also wounded Germans and German captives. German bombers are attacking Wola. We are descending from the third floor to the ground floor, singing "Szturmówka", the building is shaking, they are throwing big bombs. We are aware of danger but it's joyfully, we will not give up! The boys are catching snipers; these are Germans, most often Volksdeutschs, who would murder our soldiers from hiding. We are putting them under wall and feel wild pleasure, just look yourselves, how you used to kill thousands of Polish patriotic youth men of great worth. You will feel what we've been suffering. It was what our lips were saying and our blazing eyes as well as our fevered faces were expressing. And then - a burst of shots over their heads, after two minutes - another burst and shots, followed by single executions of those who had been caught on acts of violence against the Polish insurgents. "Watch out for an aviator!" - we are hiding ourselves, masking our cars; they are throwing - leaflets, not bombs, with the desire of our giving up, with the threat of our slaughter. We are not afraid of death. Soldier's death on the battlefield is splendid. "Poland, for you we will sacrifice the last gout of blood".
         There are more wounded people. I can feel their suffering. It's chaos in my head. Tomorrow I want to be on the first line, I must be strong both physically and mentally. God, please let me overcome everything (and myself); I'm doing it for Poland.

         Night August 6/7
         St. Lazarus hospital is burning. The Leszno str. - our units are repelling heavy German attacks. Ukrainians are murdering civilians, not to menton bestialities over insurgents. We are being attacked heavily, not only by cannons (guns or tanks), and staying inside burning buildings. "We are stinging the wolf with canine teeth, but the hurt ones."
         The Calvinist cemetery - "Honour to the heroes that have lost their lives here, the ones from Parasol." I can hear hollow moans and thistle of gunshots. I can see nightmarish visions, trees, Graves and dead bodies. "Sanitary help!" - it's the yell for help - we are running, bent - somebody is lying here - can you rise? His answer is no, take my shoes off. One of us is cutting the shoe, we are dressing his wound provisionary and lying him on stretchers, then transporting to the hospital. And again we are running and our aim is to help. There are bullets everywhere, shrapnels are falling, one of us gets killed, two are wounded. The commander is seriously wounded - this news is very disheartening for each of us. Many of us are either wounded or dead. Germans are shooting from grenade launchers and mortars. Groups of our boys are hiding behind trees only to find shelter in graves. We are retreating, bent, and bloodstained, disconsolate we are leasing our posts. Germans are setting fire to them, throwing light bullets. They are closer and closer. We can hear an order - "Attention!", carefully and silently we are going beyond the Ghetto's walls. Boys from my squad are at the rear services. I'm praying for them, May they all come back. I can take a rest by the wall - I'm falling asleep.