Freedom, bitterness, stagnation

2/03/2026

Interview with Prof. Albin Głowacki

The Soviet Union, attacked by Hitler’s coalition, became an area of real migration of peoples from the summer of 1941. Millions of refugees and evacuees moved chaotically from west to east and from north to south, including hundreds of thousands of Polish citizens… We talk about the turning point that took place in the summer of 1941 and the situation of those who partially regained their freedom but had to risk their lives in return with Prof. Albin Głowacki, one of the leading experts on the history of Poles and Polish citizens in the Soviet Union.

Marcin Zwolski: What exactly happened in 1941 that changed the situation of Polish citizens in the USSR so radically?

Albin Głowacki: The year 1941 was a very important year in world history, result from two factors: first, the Third Reich’s aggression against the Soviet Union on June 22nd, and second, the United States’ entry into the war on December 7th, following the Japanese attack on the American base at Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. Of course, from the Polish perspective, what happened in Europe was more important.

A group of men standing on the snow in front of the wooden building
Former labour camp prisoners in the camp of the newly formed Anders Army. Kołtubanka, Chkalovsk Oblast, USSR, November 1941, photo by Czesław Zembal. From the collection of the Polish Institute and Sikorski Museum in London.

I must ask a question that often evokes strong emotions: how many Polish citizens were in the USSR at the time?

During the interwar period, approximately 1–1.2 million Poles lived in the Soviet Union. However, our focus here will be on Polish citizens who, after the Red Army’s invasion of the Second Polish Republic, were located in its eastern territories, subsequently incorporated into Stalin’s state, and for various reasons, ended up in various regions of that empire. The Siberian exile community assumes that in 1941, there were 1–1.5 million, or even two million, Polish citizens deep within the Soviet Union. These figures are presented without citing any source. They were established by émigré researchers. Since no one in “People’s Poland” had the opportunity to meaningfully research this matter, we in Poland also accepted these figures. However, since the declassification of post-Soviet archives, we have gained access to NKVD materials and, based on them, have revised the above figures.

It’s worth noting that the total number of Polish citizens deep within the Soviet Union covers several categories. One of these is prisoners of war. Various figures were also provided here, but this was due to the fact that they were counted several times. The Soviets captured some Polish units, conducted preliminary interrogations, and then released them. And along the way, another Red Army unit stopped them and again reported that they had captured certain amount of prisoners. Therefore, we should accept these figures, which concern approximately 125,000 prisoners of war ultimately apprehended by the Red Army and handed over to the NKVD, who were placed in ten POW camps.

Due to the dire housing, food, and sanitary situation, approximately 42,500 privates and non-commissioned officers from the Eastern Borderlands were released. A similar number of people from the German occupation zone were also released. This occurred in October–November 1939. Ultimately, approximately 40,000 prisoners remained.

About 15,000 of them were placed in three special camps—those we remember well from the Katyn Massacre (Kozelsk, Starobelsk, and Ostashkov). Meanwhile, 25,000 privates and non-commissioned officers were placed in POW labor camps. The first such camp, the Rivne Camp (from Rivne), was established to build a road from Novgorod-Volynskyi to Lviv. It was a camp stretching along the road’s construction route, with branches at various sections of the construction site. People were distributed along the entire route. Of these 25,000, approximately 15,000 were sent to this camp, and 10,000 to camps in southeastern Ukraine, such as the Krivoy Rog, Yeleno-Karakub, and Zaporizhzhia. These were also special camps because these people were employed in mines and steel mills.

In any case, escapes occurred in these camps, especially during the construction of the second one, so the number of 40,000 prisoners decreased somewhat. We know the fate of prisoners from special camps who were shot in 1940. Finally, the third “loss” was related to the situation that occurred at the beginning of the German-Soviet war in 1941. These people were evacuated east, and during this evacuation, significant losses also occurred. It should also be noted that in the summer of 1940, the NKVD took over 5,000 Polish soldiers interned in Lithuania and Latvia.

But prisoners of war are only the first category…

The second category were those arrested. Between September 1939 and mid-1941, there were approximately 110,000 of them. Some of them were held in Kresy prisons, while others, having already received sentences—most likely not judicial, but issued by extrajudicial bodies, primarily special boards—were imprisoned in labor camps or on their way to labor camps, i.e., in transit prisons. We do not know the exact number of Polish citizens held in labor camps at that time. NKVD statistics count them as Soviet citizens. As of June 10, 1941, 43,000 arrested individuals were still held in Kresy prisons.

Lots of unknowns, but also lots of numbers… Let’s move on to the next category.

When the war began, in September 1939, countless people fled eastward from the Germans. Suddenly, they found themselves in another country, as the Soviets had seized these lands. Therefore, many refugees remained in the Soviet-occupied territories. There was a social problem. These were people who had no jobs or housing there. They debated what to do with them, and the decision was made to resettle some of the refugees and local unemployed to the eastern regions of Belarus and Ukraine and employ them there. Others were “mobilized” to work in even more distant places – and this included specialists. I know of cases where doctors and dentists, high-class specialists, were recruited to work in the Caucasus, Moscow, or Leningrad. They were employed there on a voluntary basis, but the unemployed and refugees were forcibly mobilized, for example, to the Donbas, to mines or steelworks. There were probably tens of thousands of them, perhaps 70,000-80,000. That’s how many left. But when they finally arrived, they were very disappointed, because they were told they would have good wages, get accommodation, etc. After some time, many of them fled and returned to the Borderlands…

If we are talking about mobilization, we cannot forget about the army.

Yes. On November 29, 1939, Soviet citizenship was imposed on our citizens, so as Soviet citizens they were subject to compulsory service in the Red Army. Two conscriptions were held: autumn in 1940 and spring in 1941. After the outbreak of war with Germany, more were hastily mobilized. Estimates vary: from 100,000 to 210,000 Polish citizens conscripted into the Soviet army. Some even put the figure at 320,000, but I believe the lower numbers are closer to the truth. These people were scattered throughout various garrisons throughout the Soviet Union.

Anyone we haven’t mentioned yet?

They were still being evacuated after the outbreak of the German-Soviet war in the summer of 1941. Mentioned above are the prisoners who were transported to prisons outside the combat zone and then, as German troops advanced, transferred further east. Some of them were murdered by their guards or died en route. Some factories were evacuated with their entire staffs, as were some institutions, such as orphanages. There is a well-known story of children from the Druskininkai colony who were evacuated and ultimately ended up in Karakulin in the Udmurt Republic.

What about those fleeing from the front?

Exactly, it was a completely chaotic operation, with all sorts of people fleeing. I’m currently researching Polish students in the Soviet Union during the war, and I’ve noticed that among those studying in the Urals, Moscow, and Central Asia, there were those who fled the front, first finding their way to Kiev or Kharkiv, for example, and then further afield. It’s difficult to pinpoint their number, but in terms of categories, I would single out communists, as the administrative apparatus and party officials saved themselves by moving to other cities eastward.

Entire so-called new government….

Exactly. These people were later used in organizing Polish structures, first after the Sikorski-Mayski Agreement, and then in the creation of the Union of Polish Patriots. In the archives of the Communist International in Moscow, I saw correspondence from these civilian refugees who had been in the Eastern Borderlands during the Soviet period, sometimes as important officials, teachers, or journalists, and suddenly found themselves, for example, in the Saratov Oblast on some collective farm, forced to plow, sow, or participate in the harvest. They wrote to the International, pleading that they were being misused and could be useful in propaganda, journalistic, or other work. These people were registered with the International, and when the time came, they were summoned to Moscow for political and propaganda work.

Can we say what the scale of these numbers was – thousands, tens of thousands of evacuees?

It’s difficult to estimate at all. Thousands, certainly, but was it more?

We’ve been talking for so long about the various categories of Polish citizens who were in the Soviet Union in 1941, and we haven’t even mentioned those deported.

The deported constitute the largest group. Briefly, there were four waves of deportation. The first included settlers and foresters: on February 10, 1940, over 140,000 people were deported to remote regions. The next wave, associated with the deportation of families of repressed persons, took place on April 13, 1940. It affected 61,000, and if you include the deportation of prostitutes on April 9, the number increases by another thousand. The next deportation affected refugees who were fleeing the Germans, and then, when the opportunity arose to return to German occupation, they refused Soviet passports and decided to return to the West. They were deported on June 29, 1940. This group numbered 79,000-80,000. Finally, the 1941 deportation, extended over time, encompassed—let’s call it—the “foreign social element” from the Soviet-annexed territories of Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, and Moldova, as well as the Kresy (Borderlands), i.e., the western parts of Ukraine and Belarus. These included, for example, family members of those arrested and those who had escaped earlier deportations. In the western regions of Ukraine, this deportation took place on May 21-22 (approximately 12,000), and in Lithuania on June 14 (10,000, including approximately 4,000 Poles, not counting non-Polish Polish citizens). Finally, on June 19-20, the deportation from the western regions of Belarus (22,000) was carried out under German bombs, as some transports were still en route when the war broke out. In total, these four large deportation waves affected over 324,000 Polish citizens. Once again, I draw attention to their national composition: the dominance of Poles, the large number of deported Polish Jews, and the smaller number of Ukrainians and Belarusians.

Am I correct in my calculations that after June 1941, there were certainly over half a million Polish citizens deep within the Soviet Union?

Yes. A working estimate is over 700,000 people. In any case, we’re talking about a huge number.

For these people, the moment Poland resumed diplomatic relations with the Soviets, followed by the “amnesty” and the freedom to move around the Soviet Union, marked a radical change.

The amnesty was the result of the signing of the so-called Sikorski-Mayski Agreement on July 30, 1941. An agreement criticized by some Polish politicians, but one that the repressed Polish citizens welcomed with great joy, as it proved to be a salvation, a relief, a hope for a change in their tragic fate. One can certainly agree with the critics that more could have been negotiated, but we were determined to conclude the negotiations quickly. Moreover, the British, who were the main players in these negotiations, were very keen on normalizing Polish-Soviet relations. There is no doubt that some provisions were unfinished and imprecise, a fact later exploited by the Soviets. The agreement stipulated that the Soviet-German treaties of 1939, which concerned territorial changes in Poland, had become invalid. However, it failed to mention that the Soviet authorities’ decisions to incorporate these lands into the Soviet Union or to grant Soviet citizenship to their inhabitants had also become null and void. Many people suffered because of this later.

Who specifically did the amnesty apply to, and what opportunities did it offer?

It covered Polish citizens deprived of their liberty in the Soviet Union, either as prisoners of war or “on other sufficient grounds.” Generally speaking, it applied to those held in POW camps, prisoners, laborers, people remaining in custody, and a large number of exiles.

What about those conscripted into the Red Army or mobilized for labor?

They were not mentioned in the amnesty decree. Moreover, it must be said that some of the Polish citizens conscripted into the army were sent to the front at the outbreak of war with Germany. They rightly wondered what they were fighting for, and in the first phase of the fighting, they often seized the opportunity to cross over to the other side of the front. Because the situation was becoming quite large, the Soviets withdrew the so-called “zapadniki” (“cadaver”), those mobilized from the western regions, from the Kresy (Borderlands), from the front lines. Unfortunately, this did not mean their demobilization, only their transfer to the so-called “stroybats”—construction battalions. The conditions there were terrible, as these battalions were used to build war facilities, but also to work in the war industry, in conditions practically equivalent to labor camps. Despite this, they were not covered by amnesty.

The amnesty decree of August 12, 1941, was generic, while the release procedure was regulated by detailed directives from NKVD chief Lavrentiy Beria. He sent various guidelines to the field, explaining, for example, that Polish citizens arrested before September 17 were also subject to release if their Polish citizenship was documented. However, if someone had been convicted by special courts or suspected of, for example, espionage for Germany, they were not covered by the amnesty. People of German, Romanian, and Italian descent were not subject to release, as these countries were fighting the Soviets. Therefore, if someone was Italian but a Polish citizen, they could not be released. There were certain internal restrictions, and although formally everyone was subject to release, in practice it was different. According to NKVD data from January 15, 1943, at the end of this operation, a total of 389,041 people were released – a very large group, but certainly not all. It must also be said that the “amnesty” for Polish citizens surprised their “employers” the most. When a camp commander suddenly learned he was to release 100, 200, or even 1,000 former prisoners, he was reluctant to do so, because he had a plan to execute, and who was to carry it out? This was one of the reasons why the “amnesty” was implemented with varying degrees of resistance. Efforts were also made to retain those exiled who worked on collective farms, in the forests, or in factories, through various incentives—raised wages, better positions, and better accommodations—to prevent production from collapsing.

When did people start leaving places of forced residence?

The “amnesty” was announced in August 1941, and the first guidelines were issued that same month, so in reality, the release could have begun in September or October. But I know of examples where some were released only in the spring of 1942, so it wasn’t immediate. If someone was sent north, they knew they had to get out before winter arrived, before shipping stopped, because the only transport was by water. So, as soon as they learned of this possibility, people immediately wanted to leave. Others, however, believed they had to prepare for such a trip, organize food, clothing, and footwear, which wasn’t easy at all… If someone decided to set off with their entire family, they had to secure a place on a train, ship, or barge. While those “amnestied” were granted free travel, they weren’t given seats! After all, these weren’t the wagons we imagine today. Let’s remember that the war was raging, and the railways were busy transporting troops, weapons, and ammunition, as well as evacuations from front-line areas. How could one get on a train in such conditions? In the crowds of those willing, one had to jostle, maneuver, storm entrances, and guard captured positions to prevent anyone from taking them. These people endured ordeal trying to travel to the formation sites of General Anders’s army or somewhere in Central Asia, to regions with a better climate.

The journey itself was not a pleasure either…

Yes. And it lasted several weeks. The route was traveled not according to timetables, but as the conditions on the tracks and waterways permitted. In the crowded freight cars or on the barges, it was impossible to maintain basic personal hygiene, and the surrounding people were physically, mentally, and physically exhausted. Various diseases immediately broke out: typhus, dysentery, pneumonia, and various digestive ailments. A sanitary disaster ensued in those cars. We know of situations where, when the cars arrived at the station, the first to be removed were the corpses. It was horrific. And once there, it turned out that Polish citizens weren’t the only ones arriving. There were enormous crowds everywhere, as millions of people had been evacuated from the front lines. Moreover, if someone came from the north to Uzbekistan or Kazakhstan, to a warm climate, it was very easy to catch various diseases there, especially since the condition of these people was terrifying, they were human skeletons desperately begging for help.

Although after the resumption of diplomatic relations with the Soviets, local branches of the Polish embassy were established, and representatives of the Polish embassy were established, all of this was still in the process of being organized. The operational framework for Polish diplomatic missions was agreed upon only at the end of December 1941, and in the meantime, their potential wards urgently needed real help. Along the way, they would exit trains and reach out to stations and request concrete support. Polish military outposts were established at key railway junctions for the “amnestied” people, but these were also still in the process of being organized.

Let’s also remember that these people didn’t know the geography of this vast country very well, so they traveled somewhat blindly, and sometimes trains were rerouted – someone wanted to go one way but ended up in another. People died along the way, families were separated. For example, someone left the station to look for food, only to have the train with his family depart… These were terrible tragedies.

A two men digging a grave in the frozen, snowy ground
Soldiers digging a grave in a cemetery, Buzuluk, Chkalovskaya Oblast, USSR, December 1941, photo by Czesław Zembal. From the collection of the Polish Institute and Sikorski Museum in London.

In research on deportations or other forms of Soviet repression, we typically focus on the moment of repression itself as the most tragic, and present the moment of “amnesty” or release as the happiest. However, it turns out that this was a continuation of the tragedy, or even its worsening.

These people, exhausted, weakened, sick, disoriented, starving, and filthy, camped in train stations, streets, and squares in cities and towns across Central Asia, dying of hunger, disease, and exhaustion. Remember, when they arrived, so did evacuated Soviet citizens, so the local authorities first sought to help their own people. Embittered Polish citizens demanded help, food, housing, and some kind of work, and at some point, the authorities resolved this problem radically. On November 19, 1941, the USSR State Defense Committee passed a resolution to resettle 36,500 Polish “amnestied” from Uzbekistan to Kazakhstan. The Polish authorities were unaware of this, and no one consulted them. The NKVD implemented this resolution very quickly, between November 25 and December 5, 1941. Despite intervention, the Polish embassy was unable to do anything. Trains were simply rerouted overnight.

The recollections of the exiles indicate that they were unaware of this resettlement. They arrived, were already in Uzbekistan, and suddenly their train was heading to Kazakhstan. The Polish embassy, ​​aware of the massive scale of the spontaneous movement of desperate compatriots following the announcement of the “amnesty,” warned that this would lead to disaster. Ambassador Stanisław Kot appealed to the Soviets to refrain from spontaneous departures. At the same time, he lobbied the Soviets for a planned resettlement of the “amnestyed,” designating the Volga region, where Germans had previously lived, punitively expelled by Stalin after the outbreak of the war. But nothing came of this plan.

It is said that the mortality rate among Polish citizens during the post-amnesty relocations may have exceeded the mortality rate in the gulags and special camps of 1940–1941…

I can say with certainty that 1942 was the worst period in the lives of Polish exiles. In some areas, 1943 was also the worst, as in Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan, a genuine famine still prevailed there. The highest death toll in 1942 was in the Central Asian region. A large percentage of both civilians (including many children) and soldiers from General Anders’s army died there from exhaustion, particularly due to epidemics of typhus and other infectious diseases.

 Interviewer: Marcin Zwolski

Prof. Albin Głowacki, PhD – lecturer at the University of Łódź, member of the Council of the Sybir Memorial Museum.

Translated from Polish: Katarzyna Remża (Sybir Memorial Museum).

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