Thanks to the generosity of Tomek Szczerbicki (another email group friend) we located the grave of Jan Ryszard Janicki, the second pilot of “B for Barbara”, at Powazki Cemetery in Warszawa. Janicki was the only member of the crew who returned to Poland in 1946.

Powazki Cemetery is a virtual time capsule of Poland’s history and culture.  Not only are Poland’s notable identities, politicians, writers, actors buried here but the headstones display a large cross section of Poland’s demographic diversity over the decades, reaching back to the early 19^th century.  Most inscriptions had a denotation of what best described the earthly achievements of the departed, where a patriot, an academic or highly decorated in the military.  Powazki are seen as vital to the history of Poland’s capital that in the period around All Soul’s Day, Poland’s acting fraternity conduct an annual campaign to seek money for its maintenance.

After a good forty minute slow walk along the uneven footpaths in between lonely gravestones of individuals, elaborate family mausoleums, fancy human size statues of angels and Christ figures, we reached the sector where we were told by cemetery authorities that Janicki’s grave was situated.

Tomek started scurrying between the gravestones, his eyes peeled for the name of the second pilot.  I remained near the main laneway guarding the flowers and traditional candles we bought for the grave.  After a while, Tomek identified a flat concrete slab with a fading weather worn inscription of “Cpt. Jan Ryszard Janicki, Pilot 300 squadron 1912 – 1991”.  The humble grave stone did not stand out  amongst the more elaborate neighbouring marble graves and could not be easily seen.  Next to his name there were some dusty plastic flowers and candle holder.  This was a sign that there must be either some family members or friends who had visited the grave in the previous months.  The inscription also indicated that Janicki’s war experiences were known to his family and were considered to be significant.

We placed the tub of white flowers and several candles near Janicki’s name and bent our heads in thought and prayer.

Tomek then volunteered to place a laminated note on the grave for the visiting family member to inform them that the other descendants of “B for Barbara” would like to make contact with them.  I am so hopeful that this will be successful as Janicki’s post war story must be as interesting as his story of evasion from capture in Belgium in 1941.  We have heard so many tragic stories of airmen who returned to Poland after the war and were either shot or imprisoned by the Soviet regime.  On the other hand we have so much information that we could tell the Janicki family about their father and grandfather.  How proud they would be to know that there is a memorial in Oud Turnhout with the name of their family member.

A couple of days afterwards, Piotr Hodyra (also from the airforce email group) informed me that he researched the name of Rutkowski (the family name of Aunt Wilhelmina’s husband Adam who was killed in the the first days of the Warsaw Uprising) with the Wola  cemetery authorities and located three persons with that family name.  Two of the names we disregarded as the ages and military units were not consistent with the details of the person we were seeking.  The remaining Rutkowski had no first name or dates inscribed and was in a grave with a couple of other persons.  Piotr took photos of the grave and I have sent a letter to the Polish Red Cross to try and confirm the details.

For people living in countries such as Australia, the UK or the United States, it would be difficult to comprehend the mass loss of families after genocidal massacres.   During one of my walks along the streets of Warsaw, I couldn’t help but notice metal plaques every few buildings stating that at this place 34 or 56 or 22 people were brutally butchered by Nazis.  In the major cemeteries there are mass graves of 65 or 120 nameless persons who never were recognized. 

In other families, people disappeared into the depths of the Soviet Union, never to be seen again.

The worst places of anonymous death are the killing factories of Treblinka, Auschwitz and Majdanek, where ashes are the only remnants of living human beings.

When one totals the numbers which perished as a result of the Nazi and Soviet killing industries, both in the camps and also in the cities, towns and villages, one can only imagine the impact of this slaughter on the average surviving people.  For six years, death was imprinted on the consciousness of people, either as witnesses or indirect victims.  Many of us in the second and third generations have inherited not only the loss but also the terror and horror of this period.