The Secret State Series #4
Story of a Secret State stands as one of the most poignant and inspiring memoirs of World War II and the Holocaust. With elements of a spy thriller, documenting his experiences in the Polish Underground, and as one of the first accounts of the systematic slaughter of the Jews by the German Nazis, this volume is a remarkable testimony of one man's courage and a nation's struggle for resistance against overwhelming oppression.
Karski was a brilliant young diplomat when war broke out in 1939 with Hitler's invasion of Poland. Taken prisoner by the Soviet Red Army, which had simultaneously invaded from the East, Karski narrowly escaped the subsequent Katyn Forest Massacre. He became a member of the Polish Underground, the most significant resistance movement in occupied Europe, acting as a liaison and courier between the Underground and the Polish government-in-exile. He was twice smuggled into the Warsaw Ghetto, and entered the Nazi's Izbica transit camp disguised as a guard, witnessing first-hand the horrors of the Holocaust.
Karski's courage and testimony, conveyed in a breathtaking manner in Story of a Secret State, offer the narrative of one of the world's greatest eyewitnesses and an inspiration for all of humanity, emboldening each of us to rise to the challenge of standing up against evil and for human rights. This definitive edition—which includes a foreword by Madeleine Albright, a biographical essay by Yale historian Timothy Snyder, an afterword by Zbigniew Brzezinski, previously unpublished photos, notes, further reading, and a glossary—is an apt legacy for this hero of conscience during the most fraught and fragile moment in modern history.
Karski was a brilliant young diplomat when war broke out in 1939 with Hitler's invasion of Poland. Taken prisoner by the Soviet Red Army, which had simultaneously invaded from the East, Karski narrowly escaped the subsequent Katyn Forest Massacre. He became a member of the Polish Underground, the most significant resistance movement in occupied Europe, acting as a liaison and courier between the Underground and the Polish government-in-exile. He was twice smuggled into the Warsaw Ghetto, and entered the Nazi's Izbica transit camp disguised as a guard, witnessing first-hand the horrors of the Holocaust.
Karski's courage and testimony, conveyed in a breathtaking manner in Story of a Secret State, offer the narrative of one of the world's greatest eyewitnesses and an inspiration for all of humanity, emboldening each of us to rise to the challenge of standing up against evil and for human rights. This definitive edition—which includes a foreword by Madeleine Albright, a biographical essay by Yale historian Timothy Snyder, an afterword by Zbigniew Brzezinski, previously unpublished photos, notes, further reading, and a glossary—is an apt legacy for this hero of conscience during the most fraught and fragile moment in modern history.
Jan Karski was born in ód , Poland, in 1914.
He received a degree in Law and Diplomatic Science in 1935 and served as a liaison officer of the Polish Underground during World War II. He carried the first eyewitness report of the Holocaust to a mostly unbelieving West, meeting with President Roosevelt in 1943 to plead for Allied intervention. Story of a Secret State was originally published in 1944, becoming a bestseller and Book of the Month Club selection. After the war, Karski earned his PhD at Georgetown University, where he served as a distinguished professor in the School of Foreign Service for forty years. He died in Washington, DC, in 2000. Karski has been recognized as Righteous Among the Nations by Yad Vashem. In 2012, he was posthumously awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom by our President.
"His wartime saga as officer, as Soviet prisoner, as escapee, in the hands of the Gestapo, and as a Polish Underground activist and courier, is beyond remarkable. In a world today where words such as 'courage' and 'heroism' have been so overused—applied freely from sports to entertainment to politics as to be rendered practically meaningless—Jan Karski was the rare human being who embodied both."
He received a degree in Law and Diplomatic Science in 1935 and served as a liaison officer of the Polish Underground during World War II. He carried the first eyewitness report of the Holocaust to a mostly unbelieving West, meeting with President Roosevelt in 1943 to plead for Allied intervention. Story of a Secret State was originally published in 1944, becoming a bestseller and Book of the Month Club selection. After the war, Karski earned his PhD at Georgetown University, where he served as a distinguished professor in the School of Foreign Service for forty years. He died in Washington, DC, in 2000. Karski has been recognized as Righteous Among the Nations by Yad Vashem. In 2012, he was posthumously awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom by our President.
"His wartime saga as officer, as Soviet prisoner, as escapee, in the hands of the Gestapo, and as a Polish Underground activist and courier, is beyond remarkable. In a world today where words such as 'courage' and 'heroism' have been so overused—applied freely from sports to entertainment to politics as to be rendered practically meaningless—Jan Karski was the rare human being who embodied both."
"In the words of James Russell Lowell's rousing hymn:
'Once to every man and nation, comes the moment to decide, in the strife of truth with falsehood, for the good or evil side.' Perhaps more than most of us, Jan Karski faced such a choice in the starkest of possible terms, and made his decision as courageously as one could. . . . Jan Karski was a patriot and a truth teller; may his words always be read and his legacy never forgotten.
"Secret State is an indispensable and compelling historical document of World War II and the Holocaust, written by a supremely courageous humanitarian."
"Secret State is an indispensable and compelling historical document of World War II and the Holocaust, written by a supremely courageous humanitarian."
The Secret State Series #4:
The Secret State #4 “A New Regime”
by Jan Karski: Highlights and excerpts by PL Sturgis:
by Jan Karski: Highlights and excerpts by PL Sturgis:
The Secret state Series 1: “The Underground” by Jan Karski:
Introduction: During my four and a half months absence while captured by the Russians and the the Germans, Conditions in Poland had changed considerably. The first few conversations made me conscious of the fact that the consolidation of the underground had practically been achieved. The movement had crystallized into the major organization: The coalition of the four largest political parties;
1) The Peasants
2) The Socialist
3) The Christian Labor
4) The Nationalist.
This was the official military organization which had been recognized by the government as a military unit enjoying equal rights with the Polish Army in France. The most important need for that third party was to unite and agree on a chief delegate. The government was not interested in the personality of the candidate, nor his political affiliation, nor was he to become involved in party representation. The government would confirm the appointment of any individual who possessed authority and had the confidence of the population.
(hmmmm? 1940 sounds familiar in 2017)
The Polish underground State to which Karski belonged was under the authority of the Polish government in London. He admitted that besides this organization there were other organizations carrying on their activities under the direct influence of Moscow. Being the first active member of the Polish Underground and in the fortunate position to publish some aspect of its story, he hoped that it would encourage others to relate their experiences and that out of such narratives the free people all over the world would be able to form an objective opinion as to how the Polish people reacted during the years of German conquest.
Daily Bites of The Secret State Series #4:
“A New Regime”
Bites #11-15,Through the woods, the Rain, and the Mud:
#12) Risking our Lives for One Night’s Rest:
#13) Caught by the Gestapo:
#14) Cast into a Dingy Cell:
#15) Tortured and Interrogated:
by Jan Karski :
When my guide awakened me and insisted me must leave I dressed hastily and swung my knapsack on my back. Outside it was pitch black and the rain slashed at our faces. My eyes were still heavy with sleep while passively I followed my guide. The earth had become a sea of mud and as we churned through it our boots became caked making each step laborious. Unlike my companion, who advanced among the twisted uneven path with sure feet, I would stumble often, lose my balance, and almost every other step I lurched heavily into him. Every time this happened I fully expected him to curse or scowl but he merely laughed at my clumsiness. He was in high spirits, humming tunes of folk songs under his breath. Occasionally he would turn to me and bless the weather which would relax the vigilance of the guards at the border. As he had foreseen, we found that the down pour had kept the guards away from their posts and we crossed the border without incident. The rain continued for three days. We trudged along without exchanging words except in cases of necessity. The woods were soaked and the tedious march was unrelieved by the cheering warmth of a fire we could not afford. We stopped occasionally in caves to catch some rest. we would fling ourselves on the hard damp ground and alternate one standing watch while the other slept fitfully. On the fourth day the sun broke through the clouds and the day became sticky and muggy. The woods steamed like an African jungle and our tempers became increasingly irritable. My guide prodded along, stubborn, anxious, and vigilant. I followed him wearily. My feet became swollen and my heavy hobnailed boots felt like a vice clamped around my ankles. Finally my strength and patience gave out. I told my guide it is impossible for me to continue. I must rest. He eyed me narrowly. “Have it your way! There is a village stop over where we can put up for the night.
#12) Risking our Lives for One Night’s Rest:
We walked along the trail in strained silence. I was acutely uncomfortable. I told my guide he would enjoy the over night rest as much as I would. “NO!” he said. “I won’t enjoy anything until we are on our way again.” We turned up a path that led to a road and trampled over its hard surface for about an hour. The sensation was almost pleasant in contrast to the clinging mire through which we had been laboring like plow horses. After a bend in the road we saw the lights of a village, evidently quite close to us. My guide stepped off the road and motioned me to join him behind a large oak tree. “We can’t walk into the village until we make ourselves presentable.” he said. We searched for a stream and after about 15 minutes we found a small brook. We washed and shaved and buried our knapsacks under a recognizable tree. I refused to comply with my guide’s command to bury my brief case. It contained the important films and I did not think I could rest with it out of my reach. We found the hut without any difficulty. The guide eyed the surroundings and the clump of trees from which we had just emerged. The guide knocked on the door and was answered by a short chunky peasant; a Slovakian with Polish descent. I had only one desire----to tear off my clothes and sleep. But before we could even seat ourselves my guide began shooting a series of questions at the peasant. “Have you seen Franck? When did you last hear from him? Is there any news at all?” The peasant’s slow speech exasperated my guide. The Peasant said he saw Franck three weeks ago and he was headed for Hungary. I conjectured Franck must be the guide who had failed to return home on time. The peasant fed us and showed us to our rooms. I slept instantly but was awakened in three hours with a gun at my head. I was clutching the precious film I had kept with me.
#13) Caught by the Gestapo:
At the peasant’s cabin I was awakened by a loud outcry and the smashing impact of a gun butt against my skull! I was stunned and utterly bewildered. Before I could recover my senses I was jerked roughly out of bed and onto my feet by two uniformed Slovakian guards. My guide was doubled up with pain and bleeding from the mouth. A sickening thought penetrated my consciousness---- the film under my pillow: For a moment I was rooted to the spot, stricken by anxiety. then in a frenzied leap I grabbed the film and flung it into a barrel of water near the stove. One of the German guards walked to the barrel and fished out the roll of film. the other guard, a red faced bull of a man, crashed the back of his heavy hand into my face. As I staggered back he pounced on me and pulled me forward. He shook me violently from side to side, spitting questions at me. “Where is your knapsack? Did you come with anyone else? Are you hiding anything?” When I did not answer he made me reel with repetitions of his previous blows. Across the room I could see my guide undergoing a similar beating and questioning. At one point, his face streaming with blood, he looked up at the peasant, not in anger or hate but in deep resigned sorrow. “Why did you do it?” he asked reproachfully. The peasant shook his head and blinked painfully as tears ran down his cheeks. I did not believe he was a traitor. I realized that the girl at home had been correct. Franck, the missing guide had been arrested. Under torture he had probably revealed the complete route and all the stopping points. My guide’s foreboding had been warranted. This was the bitter result of his adherence to me. out of a sense of duty and loyalty, despite the clarity he had foreseen of our danger. I could have wept with shame. As we were dragged out of the hut I kept shouting to him over and over---”I’M SORRY!...I’M SORRY! I never saw him again.
#14) Cast into a dingy Cell:
I was taken to a prison at the Slovakian Military Barracks in Preszow and cast into a dingy little cell containing nothing but a straw pallet and a slop bucket. The Slovakian police lounged outside the bars looking at me without emotion, without curiosity. I wiped the blood from my face and stretched out on the filthy pallet. The beating I had received and the blow of the gun butt had stunned me. Possibly, they had no room in the ordinary prison at Preszow, but it is more likely that they thought I would be more efficiently guarded by a military establishment. There were Slovakian soldiers in the same prison and from time to time I could hear their voices. They were obviously not criminals but were being published for minor infractions of military discipline. they had some privileges. They could walk around in the prison yard and could wash in the laboratories. When my head cleared slightly I sat up and drew my knees into my chest and cupped my chin in my hands. An elderly Slovakian had taken the place of the two Slovakian policemen. He was gazing at me with a mixture of pity and simplicity that bewildered and even irritated me. For a fleeting moment I wondered if the Gestapo regarded me as an utterly insignificant case, not worth the trouble of Nazi Guards. My hopes were suddenly shattered when two men walked into my cell and yanked me brusquely to my feet. One of them deliberately spat on my bed as if to indicate his contempt and ordered me to follow his companion. (to be continued) Tortured and interrogated:
#15) Tortured and Interrogated:
I was taken to a small office in the Preszow Police Station. It was sparsely furnished and thick with cigarette smoke. At a small table was a thin sandy haired man going through papers. Against the wall of the room a few men sat puffing on cigarettes and talking to one another as if I were not present. I fidgeted about, shifting from one foot to the other, wondering if the empty chair had been placed at the table for me. Then the guard behind me shouted: “Sit down you dirty swine!” He pushed his huge fist into the small of my back. I stumbled into the chair. So this was it, I thought to myself! ----- The gestapo questioning of which I had heard about so often. Up until then the notion of Gestapo brutality was clear but vaguely unreal. It had never occurred to me that I could become an actual victim. the accounts I had heard of the horrible ordeals of my friends had always somehow remained in the realm of theory. Now it was here. I sat there biting my lips in anxiety and my mind seemed blocked and powerless. The thin man shoved the papers to one side and looked at me as if my presence added even more tedium to his irksome routine. He pushed my papers on the table toward me. “Are these your papers?” he asked dryly. I froze. Any wrong answer would be like a tiny breach in a dike...and then, perhaps a flood.
(to be continued) ....
The Secret State: Series 4:
#1) The Hour of Decision:
#2) The Socialists and Nationalists:
#3) The Polish Peasant Party:
#4) The Christian Labor Party:
#5) Creating a Special Underground Center:
#6) The Greatest Difficulty:
#7) My Most Honorable Appointment:
#8) Returning to France:
#9) An Uneasy Feeling:
#10) Debating the Cause:
#11) Through the woods, the Rain, and the Mud:
#12) Risking our Lives for One Night’s Rest:
#13) Caught by the Gestapo:
#14) Cast into a Dingy Cell:
#15) Tortured and Interrogated:
#16) Do or Die:
#17) Underground: Under Fire:
#18) Faithful in the spotlight:
#19) My Second Interrogation:
#20) Inspector Pick:
#21) Severe Brutality:
#22) Sticking to my Story:
#23) Beaten to unconsciousness:
#24) Their Psychological Approach:
#25) Skillful Deception:
#26) In the Office of the Nazi Leader:
#27) The New Order:
#28) The clear Purpose of my interview.
#29) Getting Down to Business:
#30) Two Reasons I could not Accept:.
To be Continued in the Next Daily Bites of “The Secret State Series #4”
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At the peasant’s cabin I was awakened by a loud outcry and the smashing impact of a gun butt against my skull! I was stunned and utterly bewildered. Before I could recover my senses I was jerked roughly out of bed and onto my feet by two uniformed Slovakian guards. My guide was doubled up with pain and bleeding from the mouth. A sickening thought penetrated my consciousness---- the film under my pillow: For a moment I was rooted to the spot, stricken by anxiety. then in a frenzied leap I grabbed the film and flung it into a barrel of water near the stove. One of the German guards walked to the barrel and fished out the roll of film. the other guard, a red faced bull of a man, crashed the back of his heavy hand into my face. As I staggered back he pounced on me and pulled me forward. He shook me violently from side to side, spitting questions at me. “Where is your knapsack? Did you come with anyone else? Are you hiding anything?” When I did not answer he made me reel with repetitions of his previous blows. Across the room I could see my guide undergoing a similar beating and questioning. At one point, his face streaming with blood, he looked up at the peasant, not in anger or hate but in deep resigned sorrow. “Why did you do it?” he asked reproachfully. The peasant shook his head and blinked painfully as tears ran down his cheeks. I did not believe he was a traitor. I realized that the girl at home had been correct. Franck, the missing guide had been arrested. Under torture he had probably revealed the complete route and all the stopping points. My guide’s foreboding had been warranted. This was the bitter result of his adherence to me. out of a sense of duty and loyalty, despite the clarity he had foreseen of our danger. I could have wept with shame. As we were dragged out of the hut I kept shouting to him over and over---”I’M SORRY!...I’M SORRY! I never saw him again.
#14) Cast into a dingy Cell:
I was taken to a prison at the Slovakian Military Barracks in Preszow and cast into a dingy little cell containing nothing but a straw pallet and a slop bucket. The Slovakian police lounged outside the bars looking at me without emotion, without curiosity. I wiped the blood from my face and stretched out on the filthy pallet. The beating I had received and the blow of the gun butt had stunned me. Possibly, they had no room in the ordinary prison at Preszow, but it is more likely that they thought I would be more efficiently guarded by a military establishment. There were Slovakian soldiers in the same prison and from time to time I could hear their voices. They were obviously not criminals but were being published for minor infractions of military discipline. they had some privileges. They could walk around in the prison yard and could wash in the laboratories. When my head cleared slightly I sat up and drew my knees into my chest and cupped my chin in my hands. An elderly Slovakian had taken the place of the two Slovakian policemen. He was gazing at me with a mixture of pity and simplicity that bewildered and even irritated me. For a fleeting moment I wondered if the Gestapo regarded me as an utterly insignificant case, not worth the trouble of Nazi Guards. My hopes were suddenly shattered when two men walked into my cell and yanked me brusquely to my feet. One of them deliberately spat on my bed as if to indicate his contempt and ordered me to follow his companion. (to be continued) Tortured and interrogated:
#15) Tortured and Interrogated:
I was taken to a small office in the Preszow Police Station. It was sparsely furnished and thick with cigarette smoke. At a small table was a thin sandy haired man going through papers. Against the wall of the room a few men sat puffing on cigarettes and talking to one another as if I were not present. I fidgeted about, shifting from one foot to the other, wondering if the empty chair had been placed at the table for me. Then the guard behind me shouted: “Sit down you dirty swine!” He pushed his huge fist into the small of my back. I stumbled into the chair. So this was it, I thought to myself! ----- The gestapo questioning of which I had heard about so often. Up until then the notion of Gestapo brutality was clear but vaguely unreal. It had never occurred to me that I could become an actual victim. the accounts I had heard of the horrible ordeals of my friends had always somehow remained in the realm of theory. Now it was here. I sat there biting my lips in anxiety and my mind seemed blocked and powerless. The thin man shoved the papers to one side and looked at me as if my presence added even more tedium to his irksome routine. He pushed my papers on the table toward me. “Are these your papers?” he asked dryly. I froze. Any wrong answer would be like a tiny breach in a dike...and then, perhaps a flood.
(to be continued) ....
(To be continued )
Daily Bites of The Secret State Series #4
“A New Regime”
#17) Underground: Under Fire:
#18) Faithful in the spotlight:
#19) My Second Interrogation:
#20) Inspector Pick:
by Jan Karski 1944 :
“From The Secret State”
#1) The Hour of Decision:
#2) The Socialists and Nationalists:
#3) The Polish Peasant Party:
#4) The Christian Labor Party:
#5) Creating a Special Underground Center:
#6) The Greatest Difficulty:
#7) My Most Honorable Appointment:
#8) Returning to France:
#9) An Uneasy Feeling:
#10) Debating the Cause:
#11) Through the woods, the Rain, and the Mud:
#12) Risking our Lives for One Night’s Rest:
#13) Caught by the Gestapo:
#14) Cast into a Dingy Cell:
#15) Tortured and Interrogated:
#16) Do or Die:
#17) Underground: Under Fire:
#18) Faithful in the spotlight:
#19) My Second Interrogation:
#20) Inspector Pick:
#21) Severe Brutality:
#22) Sticking to my Story:
#23) Beaten to unconsciousness:
#24) Their Psychological Approach:
#25) Skillful Deception:
#26) In the Office of the Nazi Leader:
#27) The New Order:
#28) The clear Purpose of my interview.
#29) Getting Down to Business:
#30) Two Reasons I could not Accept:.
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