August 18, 1939
Second Polish Republic
Kielce Voivodeship
Radom
The past few days had been a whirlwind for Sergeant Andrzej Boruta. Ever since the memorable words of Lieutenant Colonel Chrobaczewski that they were not on Earth, what happened next was rather hazy and not worth mentioning. Life had sped up incredibly, but let's start from the beginning.
Right after Lieutenant Colonel, to the best of his abilities, explained their situation, which wasn't easy considering everyone wanted to know how and what, preparations began to set the unit to combat readiness. Complicating matters, they were to conduct the Soldier's Day festivities as planned.
Given that the day before was the regiment's holiday, and August 15 was also a religious holiday, many soldiers from Radom and the surrounding areas wanted passes to visit their families, if they were still around. Since August 14 and 15 fell on the first two days of the week, it resulted in an extended weekend. This made it challenging to elevate the unit's readiness level, as reported to the command of the 28th Infantry Division, ironically located in Warsaw.
The division commander, General Władysław Bończa-Uzdowski, acknowledged this fact and allowed the unit to relax its deadlines and readiness until the pass issue was resolved. However, the relaxation wasn't too significant. This was due to the fact that the 26th Infantry Division was to be part of the Łódź Army, and this army was to secure the Polish-German border from the northern side of Upper Silesia.
Reports from ground and aerial reconnaissance, as well as intelligence data received by the General Staff, led to the mobilization of the Łódź and Kraków Armies to secure the border. Although there was no talk of invasion yet, given the very nervous movements of the Germans, alarmed by the situation, they anticipated an armed clash on the border.
Therefore, on the same day the general allowed the relaxation of deadlines, August 16, an urgent request for accelerated action arrived. This put the 72nd in a dire situation. Although what exactly happened on the night of August 15 was shrouded in secrecy, it couldn't be hidden that something had happened.
Although during the Soldier's Day festivities, attention could be diverted by the celebration itself, the next day and the following days, rumors grew stronger. Contrary to fears, people didn't panic but were deeply concerned. This gave rise to another problem: while the majority of soldiers on leave independently decided to return to the unit to be armed if necessary, some, influenced by the rumors and their own families, remained at home, regardless of whether they had passes for the following days or not.
This required a swift response. Here stepped in Boruta. Known for his reputation as the regimental Bies, he was loaned by the majors of the other two battalions from the commander of the 1st Battalion, Major Karol Zbrzydło. The 1st Battalion itself was quickly assembled and ready to march into the field on August 16, no surprise given that the 1st was usually the best, and with the Bies, it was the best among the best. At least that's what the soldiers of the 1st Battalion of the 72nd Regiment said about themselves.
In this way, using his devilish tricks learned over the past twenty years as a non-commissioned officer, Boruta corralled the more problematic stragglers back to the barracks. He spent two days and one night doing so.
Upon returning to his home First Platoon, Sergeant Andrzej Boruta arrived only on August 18th at noon. Exhausted from dealing with stubborn soldiers, he entered the office of his commanding officer, Lieutenant Kamil Pluta, with a blissful dream of catching a moment's rest. The previous night had been like that of a cat with a full bladder, darting from place to place across the entire region.
Although, in truth, the last few stragglers had returned without much trouble, it wasn't due to the sergeant's extraordinary diplomatic skills, but simply because his exhausted face resembled a devil straight from the deepest circles of hell. It must be remembered that Boruta, on any given day, did not have a pleasant appearance.
"Lieutenant Pluta! Sergeant Andrzej Boruta reporting completion of the task and returning to the unit," Boruta called out with a flawless salute. Fatigue was evident, but setting an example was necessary, even if only the commander and his adjutant witnessed it. Otherwise, there would be no point in exerting oneself in bringing the soldiers to order.
"At ease, sergeant," Pluta commanded, with undisguised sympathy for his subordinate. "How was the night?" he added after a moment when the sergeant relaxed his posture.
"Exhausting," Boruta replied in a heavily fatigued tone.
"I can see that," Pluta remarked, then sighed. Boruta took it as a bad sign. "Unfortunately, I must apologize, but you have one more task to complete."
Boruta was too good and experienced a soldier to protest. After all, in wartime, one couldn't rely on the enemy's kindness for a good night's sleep; memories of the Caucasus came back like a boomerang. Fatigue also played its part.
"What is it?" he asked without a hint of resentment in his voice.
"We've received new directives; the Supreme Commander is scheduled to deliver a radio address in an hour and a half, outlining the current situation. As part of this, a partial mobilization will be announced. The 72nd is one of the units affected by mobilization. Therefore, the 1st Battalion, which is ready, will be packed into trains and sent to its place of deployment, namely Wieluń. There, we are to begin preparations for the defense of the city," the lieutenant explained.
"I understand. So, we'll assemble the platoon for Smigły's speech and then hurry the lambs to the station?" Boruta summed up shortly. The news that the authorities had decided to reveal their hand did not impress him. Rather, he wondered why they had delayed it for so long.
"That's correct, sergeant. We'll assemble the platoon for Smigły's address, then load them onto the train as quickly as possible."
Boruta nodded. "I understand, sir. Anything else?"
"Yes, get some rest, sergeant. You may have the face of a devil, but you're not as lively. Nowak will wake you when the time comes," Pluta ordered firmly. The lieutenant already knew Boruta well and his approach to military matters. Even if he was asleep and seemingly useless, he wouldn't sleep until he was either completely exhausted or forced to do so.
Boruta was much older than Pluta; in fact, if he hadn't been so stubborn, he would easily be a colonel by now. Nevertheless, the lieutenant couldn't understand the sergeant's reluctance to be promoted to a higher rank. He had heard that Boruta had refused promotion four times. The reasons varied, mainly reluctance and not seeing himself in such a role, but personally, Pluta suspected another reason.
Boruta was extremely strict and demanding in his approach to subordinates, as well as to soldiers from other platoons when the need arose. Nevertheless, amidst all this, there was a hint of nurturing. Although not directly visible, observing his actions and behavior revealed that he tried to shape everyone under his care into decent soldiers.
Pluta suspected that this stemmed from Boruta's experiences in the Tsarist Army - the war path he had traversed left a lasting mark on him. Instead of breaking down under the weight of those experiences, he drew wisdom from them, which he tried to impart to everyone under, beside, or even above him. Pluta, who had experienced a brief period in the final phase of the Polish-Bolshevik War as an ordinary infantry private, eagerly drew from this source of practical knowledge. This allowed him to correct acquired theoretical knowledge with the practice of real combat.
"That's all for now, Sergeant. Rest up. We have a tough day ahead," said Lieutenant Pluta, nodding in farewell, but stopping Boruta for a moment. "Oh, and Andrzej..." He paused for a moment, contemplating whether to say what he had in mind.
Boruta looked at him questioningly. "Yes, Lieutenant?"
"Thank you for what you're doing. It's not easy, and I appreciate it," Pluta spoke these words not very loudly, but from the depths of his heart. In these uncertain times, Boruta was like a rock - unyielding, steadfast. And that was something they needed now more than ever.
The sergeant nodded, silently accepting his commander's words. He knew there was no need to reply - their relationship was based on mutual respect and trust.
Pluta signaled that Boruta could leave. The sergeant saluted as rigorously as at the beginning, then quickly left the lieutenant's office.
As the door closed with a solid thud (Boruta had a strong hand for opening and closing everything), the lieutenant turned to his orderly, Shooter Michał Nowak, with a request. "Michał, go and make sure the sergeant gets a good nap. No one is allowed to disturb him during his rest. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," replied Nowak, sitting nearby. "When should we wake him up?" he added after a moment, standing by the door.
The lieutenant glanced at the clock. "About fifteen minutes before the speech. Then you'll take him directly to the square, where you'll wait with the rest of the platoon and the sergeant. If he tries to resist his duties, you must convey that it's a direct order from a superior who wants him to conserve energy for the loading time. I'll need him to help manage the chaos that will ensue."
"Understood," said the orderly, then left the room, leaving the lieutenant alone with his thoughts. He leaned back in his chair, lifted his head high, remaining in that position for a few moments. Then he turned his attention to the window overlooking the square where the Seventy-Second would soon gather.
Gathering under the scorching sun; this year's summer was exceptionally hot. Fortunately, Polish uniforms were made of the right material - wool, which minimized the discomfort of summer weather. Well, it was partly due to the desire to support Polish clothing companies. A poor country like Poland had to support its industry wherever it could.
The result was that they were perfectly suited for work in hot summers, without unnecessary heating of the soldier's body. "The sun doesn't scare a Polish soldier!" the lieutenant came up with the perfect advertising slogan for the occasion. This humorous slogan made him stop, dazzled by the thought. He nodded slowly, realizing its brilliance, or at least he perceived it as such, then said to himself.
"After every sunny period, there's always a rainy downpour. I wonder, do you have the appropriate umbrella for that, Mr. Marshal?"
20th August 1939
Second Polish Republic
Capital City Warsaw*
Royal Castle
Here stands the Royal Castle, which, as the name suggests, serves as the residence of the President of the Republic. A joke occurred to Marshal Edward Śmigły-Rydz, a paraphrase of the famous soldier's tale about the breadbox.**
And here, the name has little to do with its purpose, just as here. That is, they continue to fulfill their function, but inside, they have a completely different content. Completely detached from the official name. One can laugh, one can grimace. The Supreme Commander was essentially indifferent; everyone knew where the real power lay anyway.
At least not in the Castle, at least not today.
In theory, President Ignacy Mościcki, by virtue of the powers conferred upon him by the April Constitution, was accountable only to God and history, thereby able to do whatever he deemed right. In practice, Poland was ruled by a triumvirate, with Marshal Śmigły playing the leading role.
The triumvirate divided responsibilities among the three most important figures in the state: President Mościcki handled economic affairs, Marshal Śmigły managed military and internal matters, and the third member of the trio, Minister Józef Beck, who had been overseeing diplomatic affairs since 1932, continued Piłsudski's political will regarding foreign policy.
Beck's presence in this triumvirate was somewhat incidental. Beck was a respected Piłsudskis known for his unwavering loyalty to the deceased Piłsudski, and he had been designated by the old Chief as his political successor in diplomacy. This naturally meant that Beck primarily focused on diplomatic matters. Thus, despite his friendship with Śmigły's rival for power, Walery Sławek, he stayed away from political power struggles after Piłsudski's death, intervening only where necessary for his own purposes.
Neither Mościcki nor Śmigły felt they understood the intricacies of the diplomatic art, and since Beck limited his ambitions to this sphere, there was no need to replace him with anyone else. Especially since both gentlemen, like Beck, were deeply impressed by Piłsudski and his ability to judge matters. Therefore, if this colonel was the one to lead Poland on the international stage to the position of a great power, they would not interfere in his competencies.
Especially since the task that rested on Marszałek Śmigły's shoulders was so difficult that he had absolutely no desire to deal with it himself, and he didn't see anyone suitable to replace Beck in his circle. Of course, he tried to keep his finger on the pulse so that Beck wouldn't pull some stupid stunt, at least without his knowledge. However, those were just concerns, and unfounded ones at that.
When Beck realized what Mr. Hitler had planned for Poland, he immediately came to the President and Marshal with a question about what to do. Beck could be accused of many things, such as shaping foreign policy on his own, but not foolishness or selfishness.
Hitler's ultimatum was so serious that a decision had to be made jointly. Of course, there was only one answer: NO. Poland would not give anything to the Germans without a fight, even if it had to stand alone in battle. Of course, each of the three understood the scale of the threat, but they agreed that the danger posed by accepting the ultimatum was only apparent.
The Austrian Painter had shown that any agreements with him were just a matter of force. The fate of poor Czechoslovakia was a vivid example that for him, international treaties were just pieces of written paper without power or significance.
In this way, for over a year, since January when Hitler's proposal turned out to be an ultimatum for Poland, vultures had begun to circle over the weary homeland, desiring only peace. They were much more cruel and brutal than those from 144 years ago, which had brutally torn apart the former Commonwealth.
Much indicated that a catastrophe awaited Poland. One that had been cooked up by others, and which this side, which had the least to do with it, would taste first. Because the order in Europe did not depend on Poland, Poland was not to keep Germany in check, Poland did not have the right to decide what and how. Poland's only fault was that it dared to exist and envisioned itself as an independent, wealthy, and respected country.
But it was Poland that would bear the first blow of the German war machine. The same one that had been allowed to restart so easily. The one to which, without a fight, under the guise of an agreement, the industry of one of the most developed countries in Europe had been handed over, strengthening its potential by one-third of what it had been.
What did Poland get in return? Guarantees, credit, and a speeding road roller heading its way.
The most emotional part of the Marshal wanted both to cry and to draw his sword to practice on French and British politicians to vent his anger.
Fortunately for the aforementioned, it was not up to him to decide what to do. The Marshal knew that this time the stakes were not pride, money, or territory, but the fate of Poland. He had to play the highest stake and hope that it wouldn't have too negative an impact on the fate of the homeland. He had no illusions, he knew that it wouldn't be possible without a sea of blood.
At least not until now. It had been five days since the night of the anniversary of the memorable Battle of Warsaw, and the understanding of the current state of affairs was little greater than on that late night when he was pulled out of bed. Something, or someone, had caused Marshal Śmigły, looking at someone's holiday, to come to certain suspicions about who had pulled Poland from its previous place, far from the danger.
But the question was whether they hadn't fallen into even bigger trouble.
With this thought in mind, the Marshal left the recesses of his mind and looked at the men sitting at the long rectangular table made of dark oak.
Besides the members of the Triumvirate already mentioned, the entire government of the Second Polish Republic was sitting there. This included both his people and President Mościcki's people.
Without going into details, the most important of these eleven were two. Prime Minister Felicjan Sławoj Składkowski, who, in addition to the Prime Minister's portfolio, also held the position of Minister of Internal Affairs, and Minister of the Treasury Eugeniusz Kwiatkowski.
The former was loyal and obedient to the Marshal as the Commander and successor to Piłsudski. What he had shown to Piłsudski earlier, he did to Śmigły now. After all, he had taken on the role of Prime Minister not on his own initiative but because he had received such an order from Śmigły. It doesn't mean he was an incompetent political appointee. On the contrary, he was a skilled administrator, constantly vigilant over the bureaucratic apparatus to prevent it from getting out of hand but still performing its duties.
Although he is most famous not for his successes as an officer of the Polish army or as an efficient administrator. He is known for his famous "Sławojki," or wooden toilets built in villages at his command as Minister of Internal Affairs.
Why did he do this? Simple, he's a medical doctor. Knowing that it's cheaper to prevent disease than to treat it, he sought to improve the hygiene of Polish peasants. And because he was very meticulous about it, it quickly became the subject of jokes because Składkowski personally traveled the country to check if these "Sławojki" were being built.
The second important figure was Eugeniusz Kwiatkowski, Minister of the Treasury. A titan of a man, the creator of Gdynia, the Central Industrial District, or the Four-Year Plans, and the new Fifteen-Year Plan aimed at bridging Poland's backwardness compared to the West.
Describing this man in a few words seems impossible; the contribution he has already made to the construction of Poland is immense, and yet it is barely anything compared to what he wants to achieve in the next two decades. One thing is certain, President Mościcki was under his strong influence, effectively fulfilling his requests.
He was a tough nut to crack for the Marshal, able to volley back and achieve what he wanted. Of course, the Marshal respected him for that; after all, without his actions, the ongoing three-year modernization of the army would be a fiction. It could be said that half of the success in equipping the Polish Army with modern equipment lay in Kwiatkowski's actions.
As part of the Four-Year Plan, he built and expanded factories that currently produced modern weapons for the needs of the Army. Of course, it wasn't perfect; although Kwiatkowski had built the industry, it wasn't operating at full capacity because the Deputy Prime Minister tried to achieve a balanced budget.
In a sense, it was absurd, but he understood where it came from. Nevertheless, the current situation turned Kwiatkowski's entire plan upside down, which was evident. The Deputy Prime Minister betrayed signs of sleep deprivation and exhaustion. A trend common to everyone gathered in the room.
The last five days had taken a toll on everyone.
"Gentlemen..." began Śmigły with a certain officer-like tone. "...the last five days have taken a toll on all of us. The situation is comparable to that from over twenty-one years ago. Chaos, disorder, we hardly know where to start. Nevertheless, I believe we have gathered enough information to start taking some serious action to pull ourselves out of this mysterious swamp we suddenly found ourselves in. Let's gather what we have and start looking for solutions."
The short speech delivered by the Commander-in-Chief was enough to reinvigorate the other officials. They shook off the lethargy with which they had arrived and looked at Marshal Śmigły with full concentration, waiting for what he would say next.
Seeing that none of them intended to speak up but only expressed their support for his words through silence and expression, Śmigły decided to start with Józef Beck.
"Mr. Minister Beck, let's start with you. Although, in truth, we already know that, due to this Event, there was little you could do given your position, nevertheless, you have some work cut out for you. Could you outline the political situation of the world as we know it?"
"I couldn't help but I would have to, Marshal," Beck joked, loosening the atmosphere among those gathered. "Nevertheless, I will do it quickly and efficiently so that we can move on to more pressing matters."
"Please go ahead," encouraged the Marshal.
Beck cleared his throat and then began speaking in a measured and calm tone. "As you know, dear gentlemen, as a result of an unexpected and peculiar event, we have lost contact with almost the entire world as we know it. Almost, because for unexplained reasons, we still have Free City of Danzig, the German part of Upper Silesia, and a mountainous piece of Slovakia and Hungary. Whatever force brought us here apparently decided to lend us a slight hand, leaving us with two valuable economic areas and preserved the cohesion of our Carpathians as much as possible. Elsewhere, our 'helpful' neighbors have decided to turn into our only unproblematic neighbor, the sea."
The sarcasm in the last sentence brought a smile to everyone's faces. It wasn't entirely true; Poland had good relations with Latvia and Romania, but the general accusation was correct. All of Poland's neighbors had some grievances against it, which in their opinion, were best resolved through full concessions from the Polish side, or better yet, if Poland simply disappeared from the map.
"I've noticed that this Force has been quite generous to us, leaving us with the industrially rich resources of Upper Silesia intact. It has also left us with Gdańsk and its valuable shipyards, and additionally, on the only side where we border land, we have a mighty and compact mountain range," noted the Minister of Industry and Trade, Antoni Roman.
"True," agreed Beck. "If we were to assess our position based on geography alone, then for now, I emphasize for now because we don't know exactly what the world looks like around us, we are in an excellent position. We've turned the zone of pressure between the great powers, which left us with no choice but to be either a superpower or not exist on the maps at all, into a very convenient and resourceful defensive position."
„So, Minister, do you agree with me that this alone gives us quite decent grounds for positively resolving our current situation?" President Mościcki interjected.
"One could say so, but I believe we need to better understand our surroundings to ultimately determine if that's true. We might as well be in the middle of nowhere or worse," Beck replied. "True, true, Minister, but we've strayed from the topic," Marshal Śmigły said, wanting to steer the conversation back on track.
Beck nodded in agreement. "You're right, Marshal. We've digressed too far from what I wanted to convey," he said, then straightened in his chair and returned to a more businesslike tone. "As I said, of our nine former neighbors, only three remain. Gdańsk, Opole Silesia, and the Sea. Everyone here knows the situation in the internal sphere of the Sea. That's why we'll deal with Gdańsk first."
"Minister, this morning Colonel Smoleński informed me that there have been internal conflicts in Gdańsk, culminating in the overthrow of Greiser, President Foster. Is that true?" Marshal Śmigły asked.
"I wouldn't put it that way, but it's a fact that Foster decided to end the previous theater and seized full power in Gdańsk, appointing himself as the Head of State," Beck replied.
"I see," nodded Marshal Śmigły. "So, can I assume that the previous anti-Polish course is being maintained? What impression did you get from your conversations with the city authorities?"
Beck sighed slightly. "Yes, Marshal. As we all know, Gdańsk hasn't been on our side from the very beginning. And since the Nazis appeared, the situation has only worsened. And when Hitler showed his strength, in recent months, the people of Gdańsk have openly acted against the Polish state, trying to get rid of both Poles and Polish government personnel. They smelled blood, so to speak."
"Until August 15 came, and it turned out they were alone, with someone as their neighbor whom they had been annoying for the past year," interjected Minister of War Affairs*** Tadeusz Kasprzycki, with undisguised joy and eagerness to solve the Gdańsk problem in a straightforward and obvious way. Using the Intervention Corps, which had been ordered to be formed two days before the Event****.
"Indeed," agreed Beck. "Their behavior has doomed them, as they are well aware. They fear us so much that a faction willing to reach an agreement with us has emerged. But as you can see, it's too late; Foster has fully taken over power, and he's ready to defend Gdańsk to the last living soul. I doubt we'll be able to reach an agreement."
"Well, he didn't conduct purges in 'German' Gdańsk just to back down from this policy now," remarked Minister of Agriculture and Rural Reforms Juliusz Poniatowski.
"So, it's going to be War," Marshal Śmigły summarized Beck's reports, clicking his tongue before relaxing. "Well, nothing changes our plans. We intended to march into the city and take it by force if the Germans started trouble. Now, nothing will stop us. Let's move on. What about Opole Silesia?"
"Opole Silesia..." Beck began, as if searching for the right term, "is a burning mess," he commented shortly.
Śmigły raised his eyebrows. "Is it that bad?"
Beck nodded. "Indeed. The detachment from the rest of the Reich completely shattered local relations. The tightly integrated economy within the German war machine fell apart when the heart driving it broke down. The power of the governor of the Opole region, Hans Rudiger, became mostly fictional, controlling only the western part of Opole where the Germans are the majority, including Opole itself. This was exploited by our compatriots, who swiftly and efficiently, through the Union of Poles in Germany, took control of the rest of Opole Silesia. They disarmed the local police and the army composed of Germans and effectively drove the Nazi gangs back to the German side."
"The Fourth Silesian Uprising," Kasprzycki commented.
Śmigły agreed with the general's conclusion and smiled, feeling for the first time in a while that instead of becoming heavier, matters were becoming lighter.
"Who's leading them?" Beck asked, although he had known the answer for a while, but he wanted everyone to be aware.
"Franciszek Myśliwiec, President of the First District of the Union. He fled from Opole with other important activists to Bytom and conducted the entire operation from there."
"I understand," Śmigły concluded. "I assume Mr. Myśliwiec is requesting immediate support from the Polish Army?" he added after a moment.
"That's correct. I received an urgent telegram from Consul Jan Małęczyński an hour ago, informing me that Mr. Myśliwiec is asking for quick assistance and a meeting with Polish authorities," Beck replied.
Among those present, murmurs arose; many were surprised by the turn of events. Some wondered why Beck had only now revealed this information. Action needed to be taken, and quickly, before the Germans regrouped! Such thoughts and others circulated among the ministers. For Śmigły, this news, though expected, was still a small surprise. Nevertheless, aware of logistical problems, he knew that unfortunately, it would take a few days to concentrate troops along the former border, let alone cross it and start intervention activities.
There were several reasons for this delay. First, insufficient railway transport. Second, an inadequate number of trucks; they had just started mobilizing them from the civilian economy. The third reason, however, was the biggest and most annoying problem that hindered the deployment of troops at the right speed: infrastructure.
The bane of every "brilliant" tactician and a constant operational reality for anyone who realizes that war is more than just tactical clashes.
You see, Poland, emerging from a period of a hundred years of bondage, emerged severely mutilated and bound by shackles that are not of its making but effectively control its movements. One of these shackles is the inherited railway and road system from the occupiers. This system, being the lifeblood of the economy, was built by other states for their own needs.
As long as great empires controlled Polish lands, it worked. But once that abnormal state for this part of the world ended with a cruel death long awaited by the Poles, it became a curse. Consequently, what should have invigorated Poland became a significant burden. It's as if your veins and arteries became shackles that instead of enlivening you, constantly and effectively restrict what you can eat and how far you can move.
It's hardly surprising; a hundred years is enough time to shatter what was once unity into pieces. As a result, we have three living ecosystems, each leading its own separate life, which only on maps constitute a single entity.
Today's events highlight this problem like none other. Because the Polish-German border, right here, more than anywhere else, reminds us of the sad fact that true unification of Poland is really far away.
Because from the side of Poland's cradle, the place where it was born, due to the fact that it was one country just two decades ago, we have infrastructure that is at a high level and smoothly connects Greater Poland with Upper Silesia. For this reason, it was obvious that the main forces and the main strike against Opole Silesia would come from this direction.
From the southern side, we have a significant drop, Galicia and Lodomeria have always been an unnecessary addition for the Habsburgs, taken so that someone else wouldn't take this once richest land of former Poland. The railway lines were established here as the last and very few; even long ago, Russia was better connected by rail.
Nevertheless, in this case, it was much better than in Congress Poland because the areas of Zawiercie and Częstochowa located east of Upper Silesia are literally small Polish Ardennes. A real communication desert, no railways, the only station is in Częstochowa, from which two railway lines go east towards Congress Poland, and one railway line to each of the other partitions.
In short, it's a lousy place for maneuvering troops and conducting battles, but ideal for creating a death zone for the attacker. Marshal Śmigły planned to exploit this, specifically planning for the Lodz and Krakow armies to have weak links in this area so that the main thrust of the German attack would fall into the trap. He even had a name for it: the Częstochowa Pocket.
Of course, this was a consciously planned advantage already by the Russians, for whom it was a borderland not worth defending with resources.
Nevertheless, in the current situation, as well as in times of peace, it was a significant disadvantage. A massive hole in the railway network means that this area simply doesn't utilize its natural economic potential. Therefore, within the intervention plan in Upper Silesia, it was not planned for significant forces to be stationed there. Although as it turns out, none will likely be needed because the eastern part of Opole Silesia is controlled by insurgent forces.
A very convenient turn of events. Marshal Śmigły summarized it to himself in his thoughts. It was expected that the Polish population in this area would fight for their rights in anarchy and eagerly await Polish troops. But an uprising? Well, the Silesians were underestimated. Apparently, the terror inflicted upon them by the Germans in recent years made them decide that as soon as it became clear that the rest of the Reich was no more, they decided to break free without waiting for Poland to come to their aid.
No, it made the job easier because it means that the German forces will be even smaller. They might even be confined to just one incomplete infantry division.
"What area have they captured?" Śmigły asked, seemingly intrigued, although the fact was that he already knew what had happened; he was asking for formality's sake so that others would know.
"Everything east of the line known to Marshal Śmigły from the ceasefire in May 1921, which is the Olza-Strzelce Opolskie-Gosławice arc," replied Beck, who instructed his adjutant to distribute the appropriate map to all present. Marshal Śmigły only glanced at it for formality's sake.
A brief look was enough to ascertain one thing: the Germans, even if they had a few infantry divisions, were trapped. The Poles had captured the main industrial areas located on the Silesian Highlands, the most valuable and important element of the region. The Germans, on the other hand, controlled the Oder Valley and the southern part of the Sudetes, mainly agricultural areas. Relying on such areas, all they could have in abundance were soldiers without weapons.
Truly a situation that every general wishes for their enemy. It's just a pity that in reality, the Germans don't want to give him that pleasure. Sorry, they didn't want to, but now it doesn't matter. Whatever is happening in the Old World is not Śmigły's concern.
The only thing that matters is that arrangements need to be made here. And is there anything better to start with than getting rid of the hated nuisance created by a certain crazy Welshman?
"I see that the Germans in Silesia can only achieve one thing: delaying the inevitable. Perhaps even attempts at guerrilla warfare based on the Sudetes. One army consisting of four infantry divisions, supported by two cavalry brigades, is enough to control the entire Upper Silesia," commented Kasprzycki.
"I see that the General doesn't even consider a diplomatic solution," remarked Minister of Religious Affairs and Public Enlightenment Wojciech Świętosławski with feigned sarcasm.
"Very rightly so on the part of the general, because the talks with Mr. Rudiger are, to put it diplomatically, going nowhere. Ideology and arrogance towards the Poles are ingrained in him, blinding him just as much as Foster," replied Beck.
"So, no chance of peace?" President Mościcki chimed in, not very concerned.
"Yes," Beck replied, "I haven't noticed any willingness from either of them to reach a peaceful agreement. The only thing the current situation has changed is that neither of them currently displays the typical arrogance and conceit that the Germans usually have. Other than that, there's no significant reflection, as if they didn't realize that we would prefer to resolve the matter practically and rationally."
"A practical and rational German? That sounds like a sober Russian or an honest Jew, an oxymoron," remarked Prime Minister Sławoj-Składkowski.
"Alright, that's enough," Śmigły interjected, cutting off the discussion. "So the facts are that Germany doesn't intend to seek a peaceful agreement and is ready to fight? Is that right?"
Beck nodded. "Yes, Marshal."
"Well, then they'll get what they want," Śmigły stated decisively. "They don't want peace, they prefer to repeat the existing mistake, which is war with us? So be it, history will judge them."
No one in the room expressed opposition, not because Śmigły's charisma and influence directly influenced their will. Though indirectly that might have been the case, it was mostly because it didn't make much sense anymore. Plus, the pre-war fervor that had been ongoing for a few months now effectively erased from their minds the option of a peaceful resolution with Germany. Long ago, ministers had made the same decision in their hearts as the ruling triumvirate and the entire nation. They would fight, even if they were to lose embarrassingly in an isolated battle.
The first to break the silence after the Marshal's words was Minister of Industry and Trade Antoni Roman. "So, am I to understand that we need to switch the economy to wartime mode? It would be very helpful in temporarily controlling the current situation. Industry and trade are currently in shock after losing all foreign markets. If we don't quickly give them something to do, our economy will collapse."
Marshal Śmigły looked silently at Deputy Prime Minister Kwiatkowski, who quickly understood the implication. He cleared his throat to draw attention to himself before responding.
"I agree with Minister Roman's suggestion. Entering a wartime economy should give us at least three months of stability, enough time to find either some civilization to trade with or to invent a solution to cope with autarky. What's more important is that it will give people something to do so they don't waste time causing trouble."
"Let it be so, the Ukrainians are already in turmoil. Commander Zamorski reported to me that outposts in the Eastern Lesser Poland***** and Volhynia are reporting a worrying increase in hostile activity towards state authorities. They expect Ukrainian riots and disturbances," Prime Minister Sławoj remarked.
"Well, who would have expected that?" Kasprzycki replied ironically.
"We'll do what needs to be done," Śmigły cut in, not wanting to delve too deeply into the topic. Ukrainians and their resistance had always been a delicate issue. There was no perfect solution to this problem, only those that were more or less bad.
"Alright, let's get back to the topic. Does the minister have anything else to add?" Beck asked, making sure no one would continue the topic.
"Yes. I want to move on to what we've managed to establish about that other world. One of my subordinates, I can't remember which one, gave it the temporary name Arkadia. I suggest we use it as our designation to differentiate our planet from that one."
"I understand," Śmigły acknowledged. "So what do we know about Arkadia?"
"Not much, but what we've managed to establish through aerial reconnaissance in recent days is a few facts. Firstly, something clearly rotated our country by 180 degrees in the north-south axis. All compasses, without exception, show that our south suddenly became north and north became south."
Sounds of amazement filled the room. Beck waited a moment for everyone to absorb this information before continuing.
"Secondly, inhabited areas and a local civilization have been discovered in two locations. One beyond the Carpathians, and the other across the sea."
"That's great! We won't have to wait long to get back on our feet!" exclaimed a delighted Roman. Some of the ministers shared his joy, but it was premature. Kwiatkowski spoke with a heavy heart.
"Well, not necessarily great."
"What do you mean, Prime Minister?" Roman asked, surprised.
Kwiatkowski simply replied, "Edward, tell them."
Everyone looked at the Supreme Commander with undisguised fear or concern. What was going on? Many were asking themselves this question. Those who knew the truth were waiting for the Marshal to drop the bomb.
As if wanting to tease them a little, the Marshal said nothing, gesturing with his left hand for his adjutant, Colonel Tadeusz Munnich, to approach. He knew what to do. He handed the Marshal a folder sealed with the words Top Secret on the front.
Śmigły took his time opening it, then began to speak.
"Gentlemen, the first contact with the locals ended in a series of armed incidents. What I'm about to read to you is the most serious of them all. It concerns the civilization mentioned by Mr. Beck, across the sea. As it turns out, this civilization is located on an island and apparently does not like interference in its airspace. They are prepared to make great sacrifices to defend themselves against outsiders."
Seeing that no one had any additional questions, the Marshal began to read.
*During the Second Polish Republic, Warsaw was a separate voivodeship.
** For the curious, the joke goes like this:
"What is the breadbox for?"
"The breadbox, as the name suggests, is used for storing grenades."
*** Today, it is the Ministry of National Defense; the new name was introduced during World War II after the fall of France.
**** During the interwar period, Poland did not have a permanent army but rather a cadre army. This means there were no permanent units filled with professional soldiers, only their skeleton, which was more of a training unit than a combat one, consisting of both professional and conscripted soldiers who were trained for their duties on Day W during their conscription. When mobilization was declared, a given unit would be formed by transitioning to a state of war. Then it would assume its true size and strength. A significant exception to this rule was cavalry units, which, due to their small size, were the only tactical units that could be used immediately, with most soldiers being permanent.
The Intervention Corps itself was a special formation tasked with occupying Gdańsk in case Germany attempted a similar move as they did earlier in Lithuania. This plan was abandoned by the end of August due to changing political circumstances, but orders dissolving the entire Corps and instructing the Army Pomorze to change its position arrived on September 1st. As a result, although the corps was dissolved, the Army Pomorze remained in place as if it still existed there, contributing to the unsuccessful defense of Pomorze and the complete breakdown of the army at the hands of the Germans.
***** The term emerged during the interwar period, and it is partially synonymous with the term Eastern Galicia, but the difference is that Eastern Lesser Poland extends further west than Galicia. Moreover, it mostly refers to the areas we now call Western Ukraine, excluding Volhynia.