Latest / The Story of Poland: A Nation That Refused to Disappear — Fexingo History / The Świętokrzyskie Uprising 1945: Poland's Last Anti-Communist Stand
Transcript
- Lucas: Luna, we've talked about so many chapters of Polish history — the Winged Hussars, the partitions, the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. But there's one uprising that almost nobody outside Poland knows about, and even inside Poland it was buried for decades. The Świętokrzyskie Uprising of 1945. Luna: 1945? That's right after World War Two ended, isn't it? Lucas: Exactly. Germany surrendered in May 1945. But for many Poles, the war didn't end. The Red Army was already installing a communist government, and the Home Army — the very people who'd been fighting the Nazis — were now being hunted by the NKVD and the new Polish secret police, the Urząd Bezpieczeństwa. In the forests of the Holy Cross Mountains, the Świętokrzyskie region, a new kind of war began. Luna: So it's a post-war anti-communist uprising? Lucas: It's more complicated than that. The people involved were a mix — remnants of the Home Army, but also units of the National Armed Forces, the NSZ, who were far-right nationalists. And you have to remember, in 1945, many Poles still hoped for a free, independent Poland. They didn't realise Stalin had already carved up the country at Yalta. Lucas: The spark came in May 1945. A group of partisans under Major Antoni Heda — codename 'Ogień', which means 'Fire' — attacked a Polish communist militia post in the village of Gruszka. They killed several militia members and freed political prisoners. That battle, the Battle of Gruszka, is often called the first battle of the post-war anti-communist resistance. Luna: And Heda became a legend? Lucas: He did. But he was killed in action not long after, in August 1945, in a skirmish near Pacanów. And that's the thing — the uprising never had a single leader or a unified command. It was a series of local actions, ambushes, and reprisals that spread across the Świętokrzyskie Mountains throughout the summer of 1945. Luna: It sounds like a guerrilla war. Lucas: It absolutely was. The partisans used the dense forests they knew from the German occupation. They attacked UB offices, Soviet supply convoys, and communist militia stations. In response, the NKVD and UB poured in thousands of troops, backed by tanks and aircraft. They burned villages, tortured suspects, and conducted mass arrests. Lucas: One of the most famous figures from this period is Marian Bernaciak, codename 'Orlik' — 'Little Eagle'. He commanded a unit that fought in the Lubartów region, but he also operated in Świętokrzyskie. He was killed in 1946, but he became a symbol of the so-called 'Cursed Soldiers' — the Żołnierze Wyklęci. Luna: Wait — 'cursed soldiers'? Lucas: That's the name given after the war by the communist regime to the anti-communist partisans. They were 'cursed' because they were erased from official history. But after Poland regained true independence in 1989, they were rediscovered and celebrated as heroes. Their motto was 'Bóg, Honor, Ojczyzna' — God, Honour, Fatherland. Lucas: Now, the Świętokrzyskie Uprising itself never had a formal declaration or a single battle that ended it. It fizzled out by late 1945 as the partisans were killed, captured, or forced into hiding. But it's a crucial part of the larger story of the 'Cursed Soldiers', who fought on into the early 1950s. Luna: And how did the communists finally crush them? Lucas: Through a combination of amnesties, informants, and sheer brutality. The UB and NKVD used torture to extract information. They also recruited former partisans as agents. By 1953, the last major resistance groups were destroyed. But for a while in 1945, the Świętokrzyskie region was a no-go zone for communist authorities. Luna: It's amazing that this history was hidden for so long. Lucas: It was deliberately suppressed. Under the Polish People's Republic, anyone who talked about the Żołnierze Wyklęci could be sentenced for 'anti-state propaganda'. Their graves were unmarked. Families didn't know what happened to their relatives. It wasn't until the 1990s that historians began to piece together the full story. Lucas: And that's why shows like this matter. We try to uncover the histories that were deliberately buried. And it reminds me — this podcast is entirely listener-supported. We don't run any ads, which means we can talk about anything, including the uncomfortable parts. If you'd like to help keep us independent, you can find us at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Luna: Yeah, it's a small way to make sure these stories actually get told. Lucas: Exactly. So, back to the uprising — one of the most remarkable things about it is the sheer diversity of the resistance. You had Home Army veterans who had fought in the Warsaw Uprising, NSZ men who were antisemitic and anti-communist, and even some peasants who just wanted to be left alone. They didn't always get along. Luna: Did the NSZ and Home Army ever coordinate? Lucas: Occasionally, but there was deep mistrust. The NSZ had a reputation for extreme nationalism and for killing Jewish survivors during the war. In the post-war context, some NSZ units committed atrocities against civilians suspected of supporting the communists. The Home Army, despite being anti-communist, was more moderate. Their goal was a democratic Poland. Lucas: But in the face of a common enemy — the NKVD and UB — they sometimes fought side by side. The biggest joint action was probably the attack on the town of Korzkiew in June 1945, where a combined force of 200 partisans disarmed a communist garrison and freed prisoners. Luna: Did they ever have any hope of winning? Lucas: Realistically, no. By mid-1945, the Soviet Union had absolute military superiority. But the partisans weren't necessarily trying to overthrow the government in Warsaw. They were trying to survive, to protect their families, and to make the cost of occupation too high for the communists. Some hoped that the Western Allies would intervene, but that never happened. Lucas: The uprising also had a cultural dimension. The partisans carried Polish flags, sang patriotic songs, and wore the pre-war military uniforms. They saw themselves as the true heirs of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth and the Home Army. In a way, they were fighting for the soul of Poland. Luna: And the communists saw them as bandits. Lucas: Exactly. The official propaganda called them 'fascist bands' and 'reactionary elements'. But the truth is more complex. Many were just teenagers. Antoni Heda was 20 when he died. Marian Bernaciak was 29. They were the children of the Polish generation that had already lived through the German occupation. Lucas: After the uprising collapsed, the survivors who weren't killed were sent to Soviet labour camps or executed. Some managed to escape to the West. The memory was kept alive by the Polish diaspora, but inside Poland it was a forbidden topic until the fall of communism. Luna: So when did the term 'Cursed Soldiers' actually start being used? Lucas: It was coined by a Polish historian, Leszek Żebrowski, in the 1990s. It comes from a poem by Marian Hemar, a Polish poet in exile, who wrote about the soldiers who were 'cursed' by their own country. Today, March 1st is the National Day of Remembrance of the 'Cursed Soldiers', established in 2011. Lucas: And the Świętokrzyskie Uprising is now recognised as part of that broader resistance. In 2016, a monument was unveiled at the site of the Battle of Gruszka. So the story is finally being told, even if it took seventy years. Luna: That's a powerful legacy. Lucas: It is. And it's a reminder that Poland's history doesn't end neatly in 1945. The struggle for independence continued, in the forests and in the hearts of the people. And those who died were not forgotten, even if the regime tried to erase them. Luna: I want to learn more about the NSZ's ideology and how it affected the resistance. Lucas: That's a whole episode in itself. But for now, let me say that the NSZ's far-right nationalism, including its antisemitism, created a moral dilemma for the broader resistance. Some Home Army commanders refused to cooperate with them. Others saw them as necessary allies. It's a messy, human story. Lucas: And that's the thing about history — it's rarely clean. The Świętokrzyskie Uprising shows us people caught between impossible choices, fighting for a Poland that might have been.