Mireckiego Street. Here we were standing with Mum near the house,
that doesn't exist anymore, looking at the ghetto on fire

         They were silent.

Finally somebody said:" They'll deal with the Jews and then they'll deal with us..."
"They will, they will," I heard an answer.

The wind was turning around in all directions bringing on us smoke and a stench of burning, then it took this away that had been brought. Behind the wall houses were on fire, and we were looking at it...

I sat on the pavement kerb waiting to go home. Still all were standing and looking.
Nobody went away.

Near me there were ants running, probably alarmed by the acrid smoke. I took up a piece of stick and raked up their corridors among the cracks of cobblestones. Lots of ants with wings were coming out. Winged ants! I moved aside as they started crawling over me.

Wind brought again a cloud of smoke. I looked at burning houses People in windows. They didn't know how to save themselves...

Here where I sat there were ants as well. Winged as well. They didn't want to fly! They had wings and didn't fly...

I got up and stood beside Mum. In the group of people a commotion. From the window of the second floor pillows are flying out, mattresses, duvets, different bundles.
"She's throwing children out!" - somebody screamed.
I looked at some children falling down. In the neighbouring window smoke, flames! After children, two women jumped and a Jew in a long coat. Short bursts from a machine gun... The house starts collapsing in the middle! Dust, smoke, fire- nothing is seen...
Mum grabbed me by the hand and we ran to Karolkowa. Behind the corner we slowed down.
At home Mum, in vexation, told everything to Grandmother. I went out on the courtyard.

Janusz Wałkuski

Janusz Walkuski in our times

drawn up by: Maciej Janaszek-Seydlitz

translation: Małgorzata Szyszkowska