Wojciech Marciniak
It was the summer of 2020 when I received the news that I had been awarded a grant to conduct research in the Moscow archives. Unfortunately, the COVID-19 pandemic – as it turned out later – was about to start. Travelling to Russia proved impossible. Subsequent events in the East – social protests in Belarus, the migration crisis triggered by Lukashenko at the east Polish border, and then the Russian aggression against Ukraine – ultimately thwarted my research plans. At that time, I did not know that all these obstacles would turn out to be something different than they seemed at first glance.
History with a capital H
During the lockdown, I decided to write a book. Basically, it was a significant expansion of an unpublished article – stashed somewhere in my computer archive – about the fate of Polish citizens living in the deep south of Kazakhstan, in the region bordering Uzbekistan, in the years 1943–1946. I thought it would be a good text with which to part ways (at least for a while) with the subject of the Union of Polish Patriots in the USSR. Unexpectedly, however, the book began to grow. Locked away at home, I delved into copies of documents, photographs and memories of people deported to Siberia. One name appeared particularly often in these materials: Zofia Teliżyna. The sources revealed the figure of an energetic and committed activist of the Union of Polish Patriots, first chairwoman of the Inter-Regional Board of the Union in Turkestan, and later head of the district structures of this organization. Teliżyna… Teliga! Zofia Teliga. I recalled that there was a person with that surname living in Wrocław. Our first contact, albeit impersonal, had taken place many years ago when I published a fragment of my doctoral thesis in the magazine “My, Sybiracy”, and in the next issue Zofia Teliga-Mertens referred to my text. But it could not be “my” Zofia as she would have to be about 115 years old. It turned out to be her daughter and namesake: Dr. Zofia Teliga-Mertens, an agronomist and Dame of the Order of the White Eagle (born in 1926).
A short “investigation” on the web and a few phone calls yielded results in the form of contact details for Mrs. Zosia. When I called the phone number, I heard the tired but strong voice of an elderly person, and our conversation lasted about two hours. The subject was, of course history, or rather History. Mrs. Zosia recounted events I had only glimpsed through archival records, and when I asked her to fill the gaps in my understanding, she did so effortlessly, weaving the missing pieces together with perfect clarity. She talked about her mother’s deportation, the journey to the south of the USSR, Kazakhstan, the activities of the Kuybyshev embassy’s trustees, the Union of Polish Patriots, repatriation, Moscow… As the head of the Family Tracing Department of the Main Board of the Union of Polish Patriots in the Soviet capital, Zofia’s mother had encountered the issues that I had intended to investigate in the Moscow archives, and she had known the people who worked in the Polish embassy: Henryk Raabe, Irena Kuczyńska. As Zofia Junior said, “Yes, yes, I remember them; Mummy worked with them; I didn’t like Kuczyńska very much, because she was such a lady”. I hear Mrs. Zosia’s voice and I realize that I am talking to probably the last witness of the activities for the liberation and repatriation of Poles that were conducted by the Polish Embassy in Moscow, when it was still possible to do something for our compatriots in the USSR, before Stalinism divided Polish families with the “border of friendship” on the Bug River. If a researcher of Egyptian pyramids miraculously met someone who had worked in the pharaoh’s palace in his youth, he would probably feel the same way as I do.
Independent, strong, knowledgeable
Our conversations became more frequent and longer. We couldn’t meet for the time being, so we spent a lot of time on the phone. We were writing a book about the Union of Polish Patriots in southern Kazakhstan. Mrs. Zosia would tell stories, I would take notes; I would ask questions, and she would remember. Her memories would come back, and with them the colours, smells and sounds of years gone by. Events that had faded from her memory became more and more vivid. When we talked about Mrs. Zosia’s youngest years, she told me about her family home in Wola Rycerska near Krzemieniec in Volhynia. She was born on 11 October 1926. She was the only child of Zofia née Baster, an activist in the people’s movement, and Stefan Teliga, a professional officer in the Polish Army. Her mother’s friend Wincenty Witos held her in his arms when she was baptised.
After months of phone calls, it was time to meet in Wrocław. In June 2021, I went to her home, accompanied by Prof. Albin Głowacki – an expert on the subject of Sybir exile. When we reached the old tenement house on Łukasiewicza Street, on the walls of which were still visible traces of bullets from the war, I felt my heart tremble. On the old door was a card with a name that I knew from archival sources. Mrs. Zosia, although very elderly, welcomed us with great warmth.
She had troubles with movement, but her memory – despite her multiple complaints – turned out to be very strong. We talked not only about past. Mrs. Zosia, even though she didn’t have access to recent media, was surprisingly up to date about recent events and was vividly interested in current affairs. Her flat looked like time had stopped, but she was living in it on her own terms: independent, strong and wise, with a jaunty sense of humour. Our meetings became more and more frequent. The Łódź–Wrocław route became more and more familiar. In the autumn, we were joined by Professor Małgorzata Ruchniewicz from the University of Wrocław, who recorded Mrs. Zosia’s memories and often visited her, establishing a bond of friendship. The need to be listened to – this was probably more important to Mrs. Zosia than medical support. And so she spun her family’s story. An extraordinary story.
Teliga’s Volhynian house
Her dad – Stefan Teliga – originated from the Kielce region, from Bieliny, where he was born on 14th June 1896. During World War I, he fought in the ranks of the Polish Legions. He was wounded in the Battle of Optowa. After the war, he served in the 24th Infantry Regiment. In the Polish–Bolshevik War, he showed courage and heroism on the front line. In 1921, he became a Knight of the Silver Cross of the Military Order of Virtuti Militari, Class V, and in 1932 he was awarded the Cross of Independence. In addition, he received the Cross of Valour four times. In the same year, he was promoted to the rank of captain. For his war merits, he received an allocation of land in the aforementioned Wola Rycerska (Kuszlin estate) in Volhynia* , where he brought his wife, whom he married on 16th December 1925 in Katerburg (currently Katerynivka).
Mother Zofia, née Baster, was born on April 6, 1906 in Gruszów in Zaolzie. Her family lived in Nowy Bohumín. In 1920, she was expelled to Poland with her parents by the Czechoslovak authorities. She was put in a camp for displaced people in Oświęcim. After completing commercial studies, she worked in the notary office of Stanisław Gerlach in Jaworzno and then moved to Kielce (1924), where she found employment as a sales correspondent at the Suchedniów Casting and Machinery Factory (Huta “Ludwików”). In Kielce, she met her future husband.
The Teligas’ Volhynian home was full of joy. The young couple led a quiet and relatively prosperous life among the multinational community of Volhynia. Zosia, growing up, attended Krzemieniec High School – the famous “Volhynian Athens”. In 1937, the family moved to Krzemieniec, where Zosia’s mother took up work at the Tobacco Growers’ Association.
Visible traces of blood
The outbreak of World War II disrupted the orderly life of the Teliga family. After the German invasion of Poland, Stefan was mobilized into the army but was soon arrested by the NKVD. He was beaten and tortured; his officer’s service record book shows bloodstains. Until the end of his life, his wife carefully kept the dominoes he had made from bread in Krzemieniec NKVD prison.
Meanwhile, at dawn on February 10, 1940, both mother and daughter were herded by Soviet soldiers onto trains that were taking families of military settlers deep into the USSR. Unexpectedly (probably on February 13), three men were led to the wagon they were in. One of them turned out to be Stefan Teliga. The family was taken to Kotlas, and then to Zapan Yarengi in the Arkhangelsk region. Once there, it turned out that the guards had stolen their most valuable luggage – their pots and pans. The Teligas were then rescued by their neighbour, Mrs. Chmielowska, who gave them an aluminium saucepan. Throughout their entire exile, they cooked everything that was edible in it.
In exile, the battered Stefan was unable to work. Zofia and her nearly 14-year-old daughter worked felling trees and floating timber down the Vychegda River. After the “amnesty” in 1941, the Teligas set off to the south of the USSR, towards the concentration sites of the Polish Army. According to his wife, Stefan Teliga was detained by the NKVD during one of the train stops. It later turned out that he had died on 12 February 1942 in a hospital in Kokand (Uzbek SSR). His body was probably buried in an unmarked mass grave. On 12 January 1970, he was declared legally dead.
Through the mountains on a camel
Meanwhile, both women reached Uzbekistan and then the South Kazakhstan region. They were sent to the Kozmoldak (Kazy-Mułtak) collective farm near Syzgan in the Suzaki region, which was separated from larger population centres and communication routes by the Karat Mountains. The Polish and Kazakh populations there were plagued by hunger and recurring waves of typhus.
After receiving the news of her husband’s death, Zofia Teliga fell seriously ill with heart disease and then malaria. When she recovered, she made efforts to move to the south of the Suzaki region – to a larger settlement. During the evacuation of General Anders’ Army to the Middle East, she took care of the transport of Polish orphans from Chulak-Kurgan to Turkestan, but unfortunately she was unable to get out of the USSR. In the autumn of 1942, she moved to Turkestan with her daughter, travelling some of the way through the mountains on foot. Having no strength left, she rode a camel led by her daughter. She was protected from the cold by kilims taken from Poland.
At the turn of 1943, already in Turkestan, Zofia Teliga became the director of a Polish children’s home. At that time, the facility was a shelter for about 170 Polish and Jewish children, whom she tried to save from not only death but also Russification. After the USSR broke off diplomatic relations with the Polish government in exile in the spring of 1943, she was dismissed from this position, so she supported herself on a disability pension, and her daughter worked in the Burgem sovkhoz near Kush-Ata.
In the autumn of 1943, due to nagging by a delegate of the Union of Polish Patriots from Moscow, she began preparations for the organisation of Union of Polish Patriots structures in the Turkestan region. In February 1944, she became the chairwoman of the District Board (from March 1945 – Inter-district Board) of the Union of Polish Patriots in Turkestan. From April 1945, she headed the District Board of the Union of Polish Patriots in Chymkent. After the evacuation of General Anders’ Army to the Middle East, Zofia Teliga co-organised schools and care facilities, made efforts to allocate food and clothing, counteracted the denationalisation process of Polish children, and fought against omnipresent poverty and hunger. She cared for the families of Polish soldiers, war invalids, and exiles who needed support the most. She also organised various cultural events, which was very difficult in the political and living conditions of those times. She also visited Polish orphanages, schools and boarding schools. During one of these visits, she received an eagle made by the children of Nursery No. 2 in Sairam. Admittedly, it rather more resembled a so-called kurica (chicken) than the pre-war Polish national emblem, but in the circumstances of those times it was a testimony to these orphans’ – by thrown by fate into the far corners of the USSR – attachment to their Polishness. Together with Mrs. Zosia, we found this eagle in the box room, where it had been lying since 1946.
Real “tickets to Poland”
Zofia Teliga’s activity and commitment were noticed by the Union of Polish Patriots authorities in Moscow. After the conclusion of the Polish-Soviet repatriation agreement on July 6, 1945, she was summoned to the Soviet capital to take up the position of head of the Family Search Department of the Main Board of the Union. She was offered the role of coordinator of the search for Polish citizens missing in the USSR, but she refused for the time being because she absolutely wanted to oversee repatriation matters in Southern Kazakhstan. In the autumn of 1945, she coordinated Polish citizenship for exiles applying for repatriation in this area; without this citizenship, these people could not legally leave for Poland.
Only after making sure that the majority of Poles and Polish Jews in South Kazakhstan would receive permission to repatriate, in November 1945, together with her daughter, she went to Moscow. There, however, she was bedridden again. After regaining her strength, she took care of formalities related to repatriation and searched for the missing. She continuously hoped that her beloved husband was still alive… She was helped by her daughter, who stamped repatriation certificates with the seal of the Polish-Soviet Mixed Commission for Evacuation, which were then sent to the field. These documents were almost relics for Sybiraks because they were real “tickets to Poland”. Zosia also visited the sick, mostly wounded soldiers from the Kościuszko Division in hospitals, providing them with all the help she could, even if it was just food and emotional support.
Meanwhile, Zofia Senior was responsible for researching missing persons in the USSR and also solicited the repatriation of exiles, camp prisoners and prisoners. She contributed significantly to the return to Poland of over 250 thousand Polish citizens. For her activities on behalf of her countrymen, she was awarded the Bronze Cross of Merit.
Compensation: three poverty-blocks
At the turn of July 1946, Zofia Teliga returned to Poland with her daughter. They settled in Wrocław. Zofia Senior found work at the Voivodeship Office, and then at the County Office in positions related to social welfare. Her daughter began studying agriculture at the University of Wrocław. After completing her studies, she became involved in research and teaching at the Agricultural Higher College, which was previously part of Wrocław University. In 1951, she was employed at the Faculty of Life Sciences and Technology. She taught students, wrote articles, defended her PHD thesis, but above all she loved fieldwork.
She also focused on combating poverty and the backwardness of the post-war Polish countryside. After leaving the university, she combined her agronomist studies with editorial work, including for the magazine “Gromada. Rolnik Polski”. Her mother did not remarry. She could not come to terms with the loss of her beloved Stefan. Her daughter’s first marriage ended in divorce, but she lived happily with her second husband until his premature death.
Both Zofias only returned to “Eastern affairs” as pensioners, after Poland’s political transformation at the turn of the 1990s. In 1998, the State Treasury granted Zofia Senior compensation for the lost property in Wola Rycerska. However, she received not money but three completely devastated blocks of flats in Szczytnica near Bolesławiec in Lower Silesia that had previously been used by Soviet soldiers. Zofia Senior was 92 at the time; her daughter was 72. These two elderly women decided to set up a housing estate there, to which they would bring as many Poles from the East as possible. And so repatriation entered their lives again. At first, however, they financed the renovation of these homes from their own pensions, donations and loans. At the same time, it was mainly Zofia Junior who made efforts to bring back her compatriots from Kazakhstan, Russia and Ukraine. Senior Zofia, increasingly ill, supported her only child financially and morally. When she died on November 18, 2001, the first residents were already settling in Kresówka Leśna (as that was the name that stuck to the estate).
Wanting to open the way to the Homeland for Poles in the East, Zosia Junior did not spare her health or her own money. She persistently overcame financial difficulties, procedural problems and the insensitivity of officials. Not everyone understood why what she was doing was important, but she knew that the Poles she brought back and provided housing for would give rise to new generations of citizens of the Republic of Poland. Opposing the verdicts of history, Zofia Teliga-Mertens lit a candle of hope for the return to the Homeland of those Poles who, by Stalin’s decision, were supposed to never see it again. She took the burden off the Polish authorities, who were too slow and reluctant in their work with repatriation processes. By bringing these people back, she changed the fate that Stalin had dictated for them: deportations, transports and prisons. She brought about 200 people back to Poland and gave them a chance to live and develop among their compatriots. Years later, she was honoured, among others, with The Order of the White Eagle (2017), the Knight’s Cross of the Order of Polonia Restituta (2013) and the Medal of the Centenary of Regained Independence (2021). She is a laureate of the Wrocław Award and an Honorary Citizen of Lower Silesia. She had no desire for fame or adulation. What she did resulted solely from the pure goodness rooted in her heart and life experiences.
An alarm clock from the time of Franz Joseph
Time passed. Its symbol was an alarm clock belonging to Zofia Senior. Produced during the time of Franz Joseph, it measured extraordinary experiences: the time of World War I, deportation from Zaolzie, school, work, love, marriage, the birth of a child, another war… Then deportation, the loss of her husband, wandering, illness and despair. In post-war Poland, the alarm clock measured the time of Stalinism, People’s Poland, the dawn of freedom, efforts for repatriation. Zosia Junior and I found it on February 24, 2022 – exactly on the day of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Memories returned then in their worst form – the tears of this elderly Sybirak woman had not been so bitter for decades.
In September 2022, Mrs. Zosia began to leave – “move out”, as she used to say. The last time we spoke on the phone was during my return from a lecture in Olsztyn while I was waiting to change trains at the station in Koluszki. Everything in life comes too late – she regretted that we had only met so recently – we could have stolen horses together… “And Kazakh camels”, I added. She laughed heartily. She died at home on September 27. In the last hours of her life, I told her about ordinary things. I know she heard me.
Zofia Teliga-Mertens’ funeral took place on November 4, 2022 at the Osobowicki Cemetery in Wrocław. Her mother’s ashes were also placed in the grave. With the participation of a military honour guard, a symbolic funeral of Capt. Stefan Teliga took place at the same time.
When a historical era ends, we notice it only after some time. When a person whose life was an era dies, the loss is felt immediately, and the scale of the void is measured by their actions – this is how I began my memories of Mrs. Zosia during the funeral. Just before filling the grave, I put in a few pebbles brought a few weeks earlier from Kazakhstan – from a mountain range that both women had conquered years ago.
Wojciech Marciniak – Archives of Sybiraks of the Łódź University
Translated by Katarzyna Remża
*Volhynia is a historical region in the basin of the upper Bug and the Dnieper tributaries: Pripyat, Styr, Horyń and Slucza, currently part of Ukraine. After the end of World War I, the western part of Volhynia was legally incorporated into Poland under the Treaty of Riga of March 18, 1921, but in fact it belonged to the Republic of Poland from May 1919.