As a side note to the information about Mrs. Moroń’s imprisonment, let us note that she was probably arrested twice. Aleksander Kalczyński, a member of the fishermen commando, recalled in his accounts: “One day, Lutek Włodarczyk made it clear that Mrs. Moroń was having problems harbouring escapees from the camp. The situation ended well, but how terrified we were when we found out that Mrs. Moroń had been arrested and was in block eleven. Even the SS who went with us to the Moroń’s house, told us what to say and lie if we were interrogated at Politische Abteilug. They were more afraid than we were. A few days later, my friend Lutek, while in Stamlager, saw Mrs. Moroń being released from block eleven.”21
The young daughter of the Moroń’s family, Honorata, years later, speaking in her accounts about the help provided by the residents of Komorowice, at the beginning mentioning Helena Kraus, said: “She is a very merited person.” Speaking about Matylda Linert, she said: “Matylda Linert from Komorowice also brought us food. She also personally helped prisoners, although she had no family or friends in the camp.”22 Being aware of the death of several young residents of Komorowice: Józef Niesatki, Józef and Władysław Habdas in KL Auschwitz had significant meaning. Local teacher Wiktor Błotko died in a similar camp in Mauthausen. In this situation, it is commonly believed that the driving force behind young women’s aid activities was a deep sense of injustice and rebellion against images of senseless violence, tinged with the groundless sadism of the torturers, for whom basic human needs were also an opportunity for bestiality. Matylda recalled: “I witnessed when the camp inspection found the prisoners eating, forced them to throw the bread and soup into the Vistula. They often ran into the shed and looked for food there. It was then that I bought a padlock with two keys to lock the tool chest and put pots of soup and bread there. One key was given to Kapo Franc and the other to Mrs. Moroń. Even though the inspection came, they could no longer look into the chest. Kapo Franc was humane and allowed the prisoners a little rest and a meal.”23
The aid activities undertaken at the risk of their own lives, apart from organization of food, clothes and medicines that were difficult to obtain under the occupation conditions, and then their delivery to Brzeszcze, had many psychological consequences. One of them was the permanent state of threat to life, leading to changes in one’s mental life. This resulted in persistent difficulties in returning to normal social functioning. Over time, as a result of several years of constant contact with prisoners, they developed into a set of symptoms called post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Its character was defined by tormenting and recurring images of suffering and wronged people. Their constant intensity, further intensified with each subsequent visit to Brzeszcze, caused that this intensity did not decrease and became standard. Organizing yet another trip, yet more aid, was a kind of attempt to address the traumatic experience and overcome it. The post-camp syndrome, which developed unexpectedly in these circumstances, affected both the women organizing help and their families. Nowadays, the inheritance of its effects can already be observed in the third generation of their families. In this way, we still have the social consequences of “inheriting” the camp disease today.
An attempt to show the source of this state of affairs can be found in Matylda Linert’s description of prisoners walking in winter: “It was very moving to see prisoners walking through snowdrifts in clogs, without socks or warm clothes. Ears and hands red and swollen. They stopped me, asking for bread or a cigarette. I was returning home with an empty suitcase. This motivated me to collect warm clothes and food.”24
Among the approximately 100 prisoners who benefited from the help of Komorowice residents and whom they managed to meet despite contact restrictions, was Konstanty Kamiński from Komorowice (prisoner number 1406), whose family could see him passing near the Moroń’s house. However, it was, as one might assume, usually eye contact. Unfortunately, he was transferred to KL Ravensbrück in 1944 and did not survive25. His mother Maria and sister Władysława delivered food and could see him. They lived in Komorowice Śląskie No. 46. Among the other prisoners, Matylda Linert mentioned Józef Haszczewski from Lviv (prisoner number 1367), who escaped from the death march during the liquidation of the camp. After the war, he apparently got married in Łodygowice and lived in Komorowice. Among the other prisoners, she also mentioned Ryszard Nalewajko from Radzionków (prisoner no. 9506), who worked in the fishermen commando, as well as Bolesław Wierzejski from Gdańsk (prisoner no. 31359), who also worked in the fishermen commando, and who after the war wrote to A. Moroń providing the following return address: Gdańsk-Wrzeszcz, 29 Dzierżyńskiego Street. The list of those whose names she managed to remember also included Lucjan Włodarczyk (prisoner number 2748), who after liberation lived in Warsaw 25, at 19/30 Joliot Curie Street and Aleksander Kalczyński (prisoner number 25055). The latter, in an account submitted on April 10, 1970 in Mszana-Dolna, also mentioned among the prisoners who benefited from the help provided by the Moroń family Mieczysław Lenartowicz (no. 3365) and Stanisław Banachowski (no. 35366). However, Helena Kraus, in the last sentence of her memoirs dedicated to Matylda Linert, wrote that among those fed by Mrs. Moroń who “survived there was Józef Cyrankiewicz”26.
22 Accounts from October 27, 2004 by Honorata Wawro, née Moroń, born January 2, 1928 Brzeszcze-Nazieleńce, residing in Brzeszcze-Nazieleńce, 6 Młyńska Street, p. 7. APMA-B. Collection of Testimonies, vol. 158, p. 97.
From left, Władysław Ślebarski, Helena Kraus, Helena Ślebarska, with Zygmunt Kraus - Helena's brother - at the back. Family archive of Andrzej Ślebarski.