Wartime Rescue of Jews by the Polish Catholic Clergy

I took the pot from her hand and ate the best meal I had had in many months. I heard one say, “Lord, they starve you.”

I thanked them for their kindness and quickly retreated to my work.
Clem Loew recalled the assistance he received from clergy when staying in a convent in Olsztyn, a small town near Częstochowa, in The Hidden Children: The Secret Survivors of the Holocaust, Jane Marks, ed., (New York: Fawcett Columbine, 1993), at pages 142–43.
“The next day my mother went to a bishop and told him we were Jews. She promised to donate a lot of money to the Catholic church if he would take care of me. The bishop agreed, and he arranged for me to stay in a convent in a town called Olsztyn, outside of Warsaw. …

“When we arrived at the convent, a nun named Sister Leonia showed us around the clean three-story building with its large and friendly looking dormitory for the children. … That was where I ended up staying for the next three years. Emotionally I was numb. They treated me well, but I was just going through the motions of doing what I was supposed to do. I learned all the prayers very quickly, but I was aware of being different. …

“I had several close calls. One time I was outside playing in the sandbox when a nun rushed over to me, grabbed me, and dragged me inside. She slid me under a bed, whispering, ‘The Gestapo are coming to search for Jews.’ I lay there terrified until the coast was clear. Another time the Gestapo did find me. The officers were actually dragging me away! One was yanking me out the door when a retired bishop living in the convent hobbled down the wide steps and yelled, ‘If you take him, then you have to take me too.’ He put his life on the line for me! The Nazis could easily have taken both of us, but for whatever reason they left me alone.”
(The retired “bishop” residing at the convent in Olsztyn was probably a monsignor or some other prelate rather than a bishop. The donation provided by Clem Loew’s mother was in all likelihood simply to cover the expenses of housing and feeding the child, a not unheard of request of those who were able to afford it, given the impoverished circumstances in which church institutions found themselves.)
Assistance from priests in Częstochowa, in southwestern Poland, who were encouraged to extend help to Jews by Bishop Teodor Kubina, is documented in a number of sources. Bishop Kubina instructed his priests to issue false baptismal certificates to Jews and to find them hiding places. On his instructions, Rev. Wojciech Mondry, the pastor of St. James parish and local dean, transported Jewish children to shelters in Kraków.²⁶² The following accounts are found in Wacław Zajączkowski, Martyrs of Charity: Christian and Jewish Response to the Holocaust, Part One (Washington: St. Maximilian Kolbe Foundation, 1987), pp.143–45, Entries 124, 129 and 131.²⁶³
June [16], 1943. Early in the morning German Schutzpolizei (security police), under the command of a Gestapo officer, Wilhelm Laubner, surrounded the rectory of St. Barbara’s parish. Its leader, accompanied by two gunmen and a Jew who was previously caught with an identification card forged in that parish, entered the building and, with a burst of bullets, killed Rev. Teodor Popczyk, 33, who was pointed out by the Jewish informer as the person guilty of providing him with false papers.

[August] 1943. Bolesław Grzeliński, an organist at the parish of St. Zygmunt [Sigismund], was engaged in the preparation of false identification papers for the Jews. It involved searching for an appropriate name of a deceased parishioner, marking the entry in the parochial books to prevent more than one ID for the same name and distributing the papers among the Jewish refugees. The organist was promptly arrested after several such documents were discovered in the ghetto. He was tortured to disclose the names of his beneficiaries.

1944. Since the formation of the ghetto on April 19, 1941, the rector of the cathedral parish, Rev. Bolesław Wróblewski, took care of more than 60 Jewish children by placing them in various Catholic institutions [among them the home for abandoned children and orphans on Piotrowska Street operated by the Sisters Servants of the Blessed Virgin Mary Immaculately Conceived (of Stara Wieś)]. Finally, sometime in 1944, the Germans became suspicious of his activities and of his entire household. After the intensive search disclosed no children present at the rectory, the 74-year-old priest [actually 77] was pistol-whipped [but survived] and his sister, Miss Wróblewska, was struck by the Gestapo officer Hintze with a rifle butt on the head and died a few days later. Their maid who had a broken arm was pushed into a cellar and the bed-ridden aunt of the priest, Mrs. Wielowieyska, was severely beaten.
Confirmation of the assistance provided by Rev. Tadeusz Wiśniewski of St. Sigismund [Zygmunt] parish in Częstochowa is found in the accounts of the Albertine Sisters (infra); Jewish charges at the Albertine Sisters’ hostel at 14 Wesoła Street in Częstochowa received baptismal certificates from that parish. The parish of St. Joseph also furnished false identity documents to Jews in Częstochowa.²⁶⁴
Confirmation of the assistance provided by Rev. Bolesław Wróblewski is found in a number of Jewish testimonies. Miriam Rubin (later Rothschild), who was born in March 1942, was taken out of the Częstochowa ghetto in early 1943 by a Polish woman named Kwiatkowska. With the assistance of Rev. Wróblewski, she obtained identity documents in the name of Jolanta Maria Dobosz. Her mother perished during the liquidation of the ghetto, but her father hid in a bunker and survived. After the war he reclaimed his daughter.²⁶⁵ Celina Alter (later Kristine Magidsohn) was initially sheltered by the Bednarek family, who then entrusted her to Rev. Wróblewski. Rev. Wróblewski provided her with false identity documents in the name of Krystyna Maliniak and placed her in a Catholic orphanage. After the war, she was taken by her aunt and uncle and they settled in Toronto.²⁶⁶
Maria Widawska’s 5-year-old son and 4-year-old niece were placed by Rev. Wróblewski in Catholic children’s institutions in Częstochowa. Previously, after leaving the ghetto in Częstochowa in September 1942, Maria Widawska and her son had received assistance from a number of Poles, including priests and nuns, as they moved from village to village, ostensibly passing as Christians. Living near the Dominican Sisters’ cloister in Św. Anna near Przyrów, they received food from the sisters through the intervention of their confessor, identified as Rev. Księżyk, but likely Rev. Józef Krzyżanowski, the pastor of Przyrów. The local vicar, who was also aware of their true identity, was also very helpful. Widawska had stored some of her belongings with a priest, likely the pastor, Rev. Marian Kubowicz, in her native village of Kłomnice, which she retrieved as necessary and sometimes spent the night in the priest’s barn. Mrs. Borczyk obtained a birth and baptismal certificate for her from the local organist and vicar. After returning to Częstochowa, a priest at the Pauline monastery of Jasna Góra directed her to a nursery on St. Barbara Street. After speaking with the head sister, the lay director advised her to leave her son at the doorsteps as a foundling, since they could not officially accept him from a parent. Since a woman whom Widawska knew started to blackmail that institution, the child was transferred to an institution run by the Albertine Sisters. He was accepted by the superior, Sister Vita (Józefa Pawłowska) as a foundling and was treated very well. When his Jewish origin became known, he had to be sent to another institution for boys, again as a foundling. Unfortunately, he was denounced and seized by the Germans and shot. Widawska continued to roam the surrounding countryside. For a period of time, she stayed with nuns, possibly at a convent in Kielce run by the Albertine Sisters.²⁶⁷
Paula and Hannah Kornblum, sisters from Kałuszyn, were employed by Mieczysław Rylski, the owner of a glass manufacturing factory in Częstochowa, under false Christian identities. Paula Kornblum, later Popowski, born in 1923, went by the name of Apolonia Borkowska; her younger sister became Anna Borkowska. They were two of many Jews sheltered by the Albertine Sisters. The superior, Sister Vita (Józefa Pawłowska), was described as being “like an angel” to them. Sister Vita was recognized by Yad Vashem in 2014, together with Mieczysław Rylski. (The Holocaust Quilt: Commemorating Charleston’s Survivors: Paula Popowski, Internet: .)
Paula stayed in Warsaw from November 1942 to April 1943. In April 1943, Paula heard the first shot of the Warsaw uprising. From the Polish side, she saw Jews being taken away from the ghetto. She saw trucks and shootings going on day and night, and the situation became dangerous for Paula and Hannah. The sisters discussed the situation with their boarder, who suggested they move to Czestochowa [Częstochowa]. …

In Czestochowa, they met a man [Mieczysław Rylski] who owned a glass factory. They had to tell him they were Jewish, but he told them that if they found work permission they could stay with him. After a couple of months, they had to leave because there were suspicions about why the girls were staying there. Their boss had a connection with a convent in the city, so they talked to the Mother Superior, and explained that they were Jewish. They stayed at the convent until the end of the war, but continued to work at the glass factory. Work began at 7 am, and it was a 45-minute walk. The factory had to close every day at 4 pm so that the workers would have time to get home before martial law, which took effect at 8 pm. Nobody was allowed to go out past 8 o’clock, but sometimes during the winter Paula and Hannah would sneak out to see some Jewish people that they had contact with in hiding.

The nuns lived in a house together on 14 Wesoła Street. They all shared a room. There were ten single beds; the nuns each had their own and Paula and Hannah shared one. The nuns were very fair, in particular the Mother Superior, Sister Vita, who was “like an angel.” She was the only one that knew they were Jewish. Every Sunday, Paula and Hannah went to church and learned the catechism. Paula’s neighbors in Kaluszyn [Kałuszyn] were all Catholics, along with the workers in her family’s flourmill, but they did not socialize with them often, and were not familiar with the religion. Everything was new.

Paula and Hannah could not maintain any sense of their Jewish identity during this time; they were extremely afraid of any “slip of the tongue.” They went to great lengths to disguise themselves, writing fictional letters to fictional relatives, to “keep in touch” with their family. They concocted stories, that they were orphans, and their parents had been killed during a bombardment, and they only had distant relatives left. They knew very little about what was happening to Jews outside of Czestochowa. …

In the beginning of 1944, some sisters visited Paula and Hannah at the glass factory to inform them that SS soldiers had been looking for them at the convent, and would return later when they came home from work. It turned out that the officer was not an SS man, but a Pole who was serving the Germans. After debating about what to do, the girls decided to tell him the same story they had told everyone else. There was nowhere to run, and if they could convince him that they were not Jewish, it would confirm their Polish identity. For some reason he believed them, and the Germans never bothered them again.

In January 1945, the Russians liberated Czestochowa … Paula and her sister stayed at the convent for a few weeks after liberation, because they were uncertain what to do next.
Other religious orders also provided assistance to Jews in Częstochowa, some of which are mentioned elsewhere. The Pauline Fathers from the Jasna Góra monastery, which housed the revered icon of the Black Madonna of Częstochowa, smuggled food to Jews confined in the ghetto, despite the constant surveillance of the German authorities, and assisted the Jews in other ways. A Jew by the name of Proskurowski, who had converted to Catholicism, took refuge in the Pauline monastery. Against their instructions, he ventured out into the city peddling goods and was caught by the Germans and shot. After the war, the monks reported the person who had denounced him to the authorities. He was tried and sentenced to a long term of imprisonment.²⁶⁸
Elżbieta Fiszhaut (later Górska) was twelve years old when the war broke out. She and her mother, Helena Fiszhaut, escaped from the Warsaw ghetto in August 1942. Elżbieta, who went by the name Stanisława Matusik, was placed in a convent in Częstochowa. She left the convent after about a year, when the person who placed her there was arrested by the Germans. Elżbieta returned to the convent after the Warsaw Uprising of 1944 and remained there until the end of the war. Elżbieta was also helped by a priest while in Częstochowa. (“Elżbieta Fiszhaut (Stanisława Matusik), Elżbieta Górska, Elisabeth Gorski and her mother Helena Fiszhaut (Józefa Kalińska),” January 7, 2014, The Polish Righteous, Internet: .)
In August 1942, Helena obtained false documents for herself and her daughter. Ela became Stanisława Matusik and Helena became Józefa Kalińska. They managed to escape from the ghetto and headed to Bielany (a suburb of Warsaw), to the home of Aldona Lipszyc, Helena’s friend from high school. Aldona took them in. After a few weeks, Ela was placed into a convent orphange in Częstochowa. Helena remained with Aldona until the outbreak of the Warsaw Uprising.

Ela had been in Częstochowa for about a year, when her mother received news that the person in Częstochowa, who had been looking after Ela and who had placed her into the convent, had been arrested and accused of helping Jews. She was worried that, under torture, the woman (known to Ela only as Jadzia) would reveal details of whom she had helped and where they were. Helena immediately went to Częstochowa and brought her daughter back to Aldona’s home. Later, it turned out that Jadzia had been executed without betraying anyone.

Over the following months, Ela remained in Warsaw, repeatedly changing where she lived. In August 1944, when the uprising broke out … Ela remained in the Lipszyc home over the first weeks of the Uprising, after which she again set off looking for her mother. Along the way, she was caught and thrown into a truck. The truck driver, an Austrian in the German army, stopped the truck in a forest and told Ela to run away. She was caught a second time and ended up in the camp in Pruszków. There, she met her aunt, Dr Anna Margolis who, pretending to be a nurse, could move freely amongst the prisoners. Her aunt managed to extract Ela from the camp and place her into a crowded apartment in Grodzisk. …

Counting on the fact that danger to the orphanage had passed, Ela headed to Częstochowa. After many troubles and adventures, she arrived there after a few days. Within the convent, she waited for the German army to retreat. On foot, she went to Warsaw, but found no family or friends. Her pre-war family home had been requisitioned by the Polish army. So she went to Łódż, to the home of her aunt Margolis. A few weeks later, Helena also arrived there. Following the Uprising, she had been transports to a work camp in Goerlitz [Görlitz]. …

For many years, Elisabeth Gorski (almost 90 years old), together with many others of the Rescued, visits schools in the state of Victoria, Australia. Their visits include a presentation about the Holocaust, prepared by the Courage to Care educational program, aimed at younger high school students. … During meetings with the young people, Elżbieta talks about the heroic people, thanks to whom she survived. She recalls Aldona Lipszyc, a priest in Częstochowa, the Austrian soldier in the German army, as well as Jadzia from Częstochowa, murdered by the Gestapo for helping Jews. …

Among those who had saved Elżbieta and her mother, only Aldona Lipszyc was posthumously awarded the medal of the Righteous Among the Nations in 1996. Elżbieta could never manage to establish details of the others who also deserved to be awarded that title.
After escaping from the ghetto in Częstochowa, Ignacy Jakobson and his colleagues from the Jewish underground formed a partisan group which had its base near Koniecpol. Among those who came to their assistance was a priest whose identity has not been established. (Bartoszewski and Lewin, Righteous Among Nations, pp.588–89.)
I, Władek Chajutin, an actor by profession, and his brother Jurek went on a scouting patrol. We reached the village of Kościelna near Koniecpol, but the German gendarmes were stationed there. At night I approached the village church with the utmost care. In the presbytery I found a young priest, whose name I do not know. He offered us assistance, gave us three bags of food, showed us the way across the Pilica River and gave us his blessing; a farmer then led us across the river (the farmers in that village were most favourably disposed to us).

In 1942 Ruth Schwarz (later Pardess), born in 1940, was entrusted by her parents, then in the Sambor ghetto, to Alojzy Plewa, a prewar acquaintance, while they hid separately. Being a single man, Alojzy took the little girl to his parents’ home in the village of Kliny near Kępno, in western Poland. The local residents were informed by his parents, Antoni and Anna Plewa, that this was their son’s illegitimate child. They gave the child a new name, Antośka. In order to maintain her cover, she was baptized and attended church services with the Plewas. In spite of her young age, Ruth remembers the local priest, who called her a “holy daughter.” After the war, when her mother came for her, Ruth did not recognize her. The Plewas “were very good, good-natured, and gave the child back.”²⁶⁹

After leaving her home in Lwów, for a period of time Henryka Trauber lived in Rudki near Sambor. She stayed with Mrs. Szubert, who was also sheltering the Berkowicz family, and then with her own sister, who was a convert. A priest used to visit Henryka when she was at her sister’s house, thus enabling her to maintain her cover as a Christian. Henryka later stayed with her son, who was living in Dębica on Aryan papers, for several months, before relocating to Kraków, where she survived the war.²⁷⁰
The following account is based on the testimony of Artur Dreifinger, originally from Lwów, who moved to Warsaw with his mother during the occupation and he went by the name of Tadeusz (Tadzik) Stenawka. He was separated from his mother during the Warsaw Uprising of August 1944. Young Tadzik was taken in and assisted by many Poles, who were afraid of keeping him for long because of his Jewish appearance. He was eventually taken to Częstochowa where he was cared for by Rev. Antoni Marchewka, and later placed in an orphanage in Kraków. After the war he was reunited with his mother and moved to Argentina. (Ireneusz Skubiś, “Wiem, że to Bóg mnie uratowała” / “I Know That It Was God Who Saved Me,” Niedziela, no. 46, November 12, 2006.)
When I was seven the Warsaw Uprising broke out. After its fall and the bombardment of Warsaw my mother and I found shelter in a basement for twenty days. Suddenly, the Germans appeared and made us all leave our shelter. Children under 10 were to stand facing the street and those over 10 were to face the walls of the buildings. So were their fathers. After a second all those men and boys were shot.

I was only with my mother and I was separated from her. On that day I was left alone in the world. From the place of the shooting some people took me to the Red Cross, which was just two hundred meters away. There somebody put me in a car and took to Włochy near Warsaw. I was alone there. I did not know where to go and did not have anything to eat. It was dark. I was sitting in the street and crying. One person passed by, and another one, asking why I was crying. I did not know what to answer. I said I did not have mother, I lost her, and I was by myself and had nowhere to go. Some people took me to their house. I had a chubby face and it was providential because people often were afraid of taking emaciated kids thinking they were ill. I was perhaps one day in that house and the next day I was taken to another. They simple said, “Tadzik, you must go.” I asked why, not understanding anything.

“You know why,” they said. They were afraid of speaking straight, “Because you are Jewish.” And then I went from home to home. I heard various things, “If you do not leave they will kill me, my wife, children and you. You must go. And do not tell anyone that you were here. Have some underwear, food and go.” And that was every day. One day someone took me to Pruszków. I felt very well there, they treated me as their son. From there I was taken to Częstochowa.

When I arrived there some people waited for me: some 30-year-old man, a woman and a girl who could be of my age. The woman who had brought me there gave me to that man and left without saying anything. And we went home. There I met a boy who was my age. The next day a priest came and it turned out that it was Fr. Antoni Marchewka. He asked, “Are you Tadzik?”

During the occupation my mother decided that I would be called Tadeusz Stenawka. The priest took me to a small room. There were a bed, a toilet, a ladder and a table in the room. The priest told me not to go out and approached the balcony. So I stayed all day inside the room and waited for him. The priest left in the morning and came back in the evening. One day he took me to the church. From that day I went to the church with him every day. Some day he gave me a white robe, a surplice, which was needed to bring the incense. …

The day came when the priest said, “Tadzik, we must go.” I still remember that morning. It was dark, raining and no people in the street. We went to Kraków. The priest took me to a large house, where there were little ladders and numerous children, at the age of 4 to 15. I was given some food, but older kids came and took the food from me. I was scared … In the gate the priest told me to pray to Lord God every day. I know that it was God that saved me. The priest took my hand and kissed it. He was weeping. He left me with those children and went away. I did not see him afterwards.
Assistance was provided to Sonia Games (then Zofia Róża Sieradzka) of Praszka near Wieluń by Rev. Krzemiński, who knew her family from her hometown. Rev. Krzemiński had been relocated to the Częstochowa suburb of Grosz, where he lived under Gestapo surveillance when Sonia Games left the Częstochowa ghetto to seek his help to get Aryan documents. (Sonia Games, Escape from Darkness: The True Story of a Young Woman’s Extraordinary Survival During World War II [New York: Shapolsky Publishers, 1991], pp.102–104, 120–21.)