August 1, 2013, 17:00
My amateur filming of the event: www. youtube watch? v=yUpOzNp_3bU
To understand what "W-Hour" is, see this video nad the links you can find there: www. youtube watch? v=ykBTvP6ZX9s &desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DykBTvP6ZX9s &nomobile=1
August 1, 2013.
The day comes every year. And for most Nations, for 99% of the world's population, this date means nothing specific. Thursday, first day of the month. Perhaps they get a paycheck.
But for Poland, it means the day of the eruption of the Warsaw Uprising. By far our Nation's greatest achievement- he had, with insurgent forces one-tenth the size of Germany's, managed to recapture half of his capital city. We had come so close, so close to seeing Warsaw freed from German occupation. So close to being able to walk the streets, side-by-side with Feliks and Sawa again without worrying about being recognized and killed.
But it was also by our his greatest loss. Warsaw had been wholly destroyed- as an example to the rest of Europe, so Germany had said. Bombs, shootings, everything. There was nothing left after. And after sixty-three days of being ridiculously outmatched, we had been forced to surrender. We had lost too much, too fast. And yet, we attained so much more than anyone could have predicted.
But it showed everyone that we were still alive and fighting, that Poland was not yet lost as long as they lived and fought. That there was still hope, always hope. Because that was what the Uprising had hinged on: along with an unrealistic plan of recapturing the entire city, it was designed to restore hope to the citizens of Warsaw, the Polish citizens of the Polish capital- Warszawa, not Warschau.
13:00.
Feliks hadn't been able to sleep for a week before. Not with all the flashbacks, now stronger than ever. He has gotten up and lived the day as if in a trance. He isn't living, he is surviving, too far gone… lost in the past. And as the "W-Hour" approaches, he finds himself unable to think of or do anything else.
15:00.
He can't remember the many times that he had sat down and cried throughout the day, remembering Their names, Their faces. Their with a capital T, because They had never hesitated to make the ultimate sacrifice.
16:30.
This is it. The memories flood him, of the missteps caused by his own idiocy and how so many people had died for him. And how he doesn't deserve it.
He couldn't help them, he couldn't tell them to stop. Because they had died so that he might be free.
He knows that he should be spending this time with Sawa but he needs a little time alone- and knows that she does, as well.
16:59.
Feliks takes a deep breath and climbs the stairs up to the roof, in full military uniform. He knows what is about to happen next. All of Warsaw will stop for sixty seconds. The trams will stop, cars will pull over and blare their horns, electricity will stop being supplied for sixty seconds and people will come out and stand at attention to honor the memories of the men and women who defended them. This gesture, however small it may seem, means the world to Feliks. Because as long as this goes on, these heroes will never be forgotten.
But something is different this year. There is a large gathering outside of his block, all dressed in red and white with Polish flags fastened around their right arms. And as the clock strikes seventeen, they begin to chant.
"Cześć i Chwała Bohaterom!"
Honor and Glory to our Heroes. The words rise into the air repeatedly, as if aimed directly toward him. He suddenly recognizes the leader of the procession as none other than Sawa herself. And she is aiming directly at him, in full military dress and chanting along with the others. He raises his right fist in reply, shouting along with them.
Honor and Glory to our Heroes. Not to him, but to them. To all of them.
He doesn't realize that there are tears streaming his cheeks as he shouts with them at the top of his lungs.
17:05.
The crowd slowly scatters. He loses sight of Sawa in the crowd and walks downstairs, blinking as if awoken from a reverie.
"Sawa!" He shouts, raising his hand in an attempt to flag her down. She acknowledges him and walks over.
"Hey." Her voice is hoarse from the shouting and so, he realizes, is his.
"Sawa…" he manages. "Thanks. Thank you."
"No, thank you, Feliks. Without you… without you, who would I be now?A broken, lost child with nowhere to go. And where would we all be without you?"
"Sawa…" he feels like he is about to break. It is impossible… it isn't his deed.
"You didn't just help- you saved all our lives. You would have died for us. It was the least me and my men could do to return the favor." It took obvious effort to say this. He saw how much this had taken out of her, but unlike him, her face was left untouched by guilt.
"Cześć i Chwała Bohaterom, Feliks. And you are a hero."
17:06.
Feliks ' conscience is finally at peace as he tries to find words to express his gratitude. But Sawa has already gone by the time he looks up, perhaps to see to the aftermath of the event.
"Thank you…" he whispers into the air. "Thank you, people of Poland."