From the Holocaust to Harrison

When the German invasion of Poland occurred in Sept. 1939 at the beginning of World War II, 16-year-old Mary Kaczmarek lived in a small Polish farm town close to the German border.

 “We had no radio or television and no newspapers or news," she recalled. "We had no idea that a war was even being talked about.” 

Mary was woken at 5.30 a.m. by the windows in her small bedroom rattling and the sound of a huge explosion. “The family ran together, we didn’t know what it was,” she said.

Later they would find the explosion had been caused by German soldiers blowing up the bridge at the town’s entrance to ensure no-one could escape.

Gathering outside the family watched in fright as neighbors and animals from nearby farms ran away, wildly frightened by the noise. Then German soldiers armed with machine guns came marching shoulder to shoulder along the main road followed by tanks.

“We knew then that there must be war,” Kaczmarek said.

They ran inside but soldiers broke down their door and forced their way into her home, kicking and beating the family as they searched for Jews.

“They looked everywhere, forcing us into corners with their guns," she said. "We were so frightened."

Jewish men were killed immediately and the Jewish women were taken away.

“People were screaming, the animals were going wild and everything was changed from that moment. Little Jewish children were wandering the streets crying, looking for their parents who had been taken. It was a disaster I can never forget,” Kaczmarek said, with tears in her eyes.

A few weeks later, German soldiers notified young adults, 16 to 19 years old, that they were to meet in town.

“They took us away and put us on a train. We didn’t know where we were going. We didn’t know whether they were going to kill us. We thought we were being taken to our death,” she recalled.

At the first stop they were herded off the train. “We could hear people screaming for help and crying from other compartments," Kaczmarek said. "We knew something bad was going to happen. On the platform the soldiers pushed us into two groups – one to the right and one to the left. I was pushed to the right and we were put back on the train. Later we found out that the group to the left had been sent to a gas chamber.”

After six more hours on the train, they were taken off. On the platform they were told they had been chosen for German farm work.

“The farmers came and looked at us, choosing the ones they wanted. I went with four others to a farm in a small town where I would be for the next four years,” Mary said.

Life became centered around long work days.

“We got up at 5 a.m. and worked till 6 p.m. We had to wear badges on all our clothes. Mine were lavender and yellow with a big "P” to show I was Polish,” Mary said.

Over time they were called to regular Gestapo meetings where further rules were given.

“You had to look down whenever a German was in front of you and never speak or make a noise. If planes flew over and you were working in the fields you had to lie down in the dirt immediately. They would hit us and kick us and spit at us,” she said.

The end of the war finally arrived in the spring of 1945. Once again, Mary had no foreknowledge. The Germans, however, hearing that the Allied invasion was imminent, determined that there would be nothing left for the Allies to take back. In Poland — where they had taken over the farms and towns — they burned the towns to the ground.

In Germany, concentration camp prisoners were quickly shot or cremated. The farm workers were sent messages to stand by the side of the road and wait. Trucks came past killing them all.

In her area, Mary and her fellow workers were instructed to be by the side of the road at 5 p.m. They had no idea  they were to be killed. By a twist of fate, American troops marched in to free her town at exactly 4:45 p.m.

“We heard noise and the next thing we saw was so many American soldiers marching in shoulder to shoulder," Kaczmarek said. "They were throwing candy and food and cartons of cigarettes. We knew we were finally free. We were so happy. Everyone was laughing and dancing in the street.”

Over the next few days the Americans took back the town and surrounding areas. Mary remembers seeing trucks driving away full of  bodies of fallen American soldiers.

“I never forgot that sight. Piles of bodies of the boys who had come to save us. I thought of the American mothers who had given their sons to save us and I never forgot," Kaczmarek said. "I still say a prayer every morning and every night for the American soldiers who gave us our our freedom.”

With no family or home to return to in Poland, Mary and others were put in refugee camps that, ironically, were the old prison and concentration camps.

“We were in Polish Camp K,” Mary remembered.

She remained in refugee housing for five years, during which time she married and had two children. Tragedy struck again, when her husband died in terrible circumstances in the camp, and Mary was on her own with two young girls.

The world was trying to care for the refugees and, in 1950, Mary and some other single mothers were sponsored by a Port Chester man who, with the assistance of a Catholic organization, brought  them to the United States.

For the next six years Mary worked as a live-in maid while her children were in care. She was able to visit them twice a week. She had $35 a month after paying for their care. At the end of six years, she had saved $2000 and got an apartment where they could live as a family.

Kaczmarek then worked 365 days a year in three different jobs for the next 52 years.

“I would sometimes get home from catering at 2 in the morning and then have to be at my next job at 6 a.m.,” she remembered.

Mary continued working at that level until the age of 78, when she fell and broke her wrist. Now 88, Mary lives in a little white house near the railroad track in Harrison and spends her days caring for her garden that is full of home-grown flowers and where an American flag is proudly on display.

She still wakes with nightmares at times and sits on the end of her bed crying.

“I can never forget the terrible pictures of bodies eaten with worms that I saw when I was 13 or the trucks of dead soldiers,” she said, her hands covering her face to block the memories.

She remains ever thankful to the Americans who sacrificed everything on her behalf. Even from the meager $35 she had each month in her early days in America, Kaczmarek gave every year to the Disabled American Veterans (DAV) organization.

“Even if it was only five dollars some years, I never forgot,” she said.

 She now proudly shows a certificate the DAV sent her this year for her longstanding contributions over the last 66 years.

 The certificate reads: “This award has been bestowed in appreciation for your generosity because you never forgot the price paid for freedom and your steadfast loyalty to our American soldiers.”

 “I thank them in my prayers every day," said said. "I feel very lucky and will never forget what they gave to set us free.”