Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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ESCAPE FROM POLAND (3n the first day of Septen ber, 1939, (lerinany began its invasion of Poland from the west. Just seventeen days later Russia attacked from the east, and in three weeks Poland had been crushed between the two armies. However, students in Poland ' s universities began an underground movement for the freedom of Poland. In the University of Lwow, in eastern Poland, there were two brothers, Rotnan and Staszek. They worked hard in the Underground throughout the winter, but in February tlie Russian secret police came to Staszek ' s room and arrested him. Roman discovered that a counter-spy had dent)unced Staszek and knew that ihev would now be looking for hini also. For the next few days he was constantly on the move, always sleeping at a different house and never returning to his own room for fear of being captured Soon he realized, however, that he could not go on hiding forever and decid- ed that he would escape from Poland and join the Pt)lish army then being formed in the Mi(hlle f.ast. The I ' luler- ground arranged for him to meet with nineteen others and two guides at a herder ' s shack in the mountains near Lwow. The group of twenty-one, which included three women, left early in the morning on April 17, 1940. They realized the hardships they would have to ccdurc, for it was forty miles to the Hungarian border, and they would have to stay away from roads and villages to avoid the Russian troops. Because it was spring, the snow was melting, and sometimes they would sink up to their waists in the soft snow of the forests. They carried very ' little food with them, and when they were thirsty they drank snow or water from the mountain streams. Their only weapons were six revolv - ers and one shotgun with a small amount of amnnuiition. After walking all day, they came to the home of peas- ants known to the guides. The people were friendly and gave them food and offered them the attic to sleep in. All the next day they stayed out of sight and rested. That night, as they ploughed through the woods, they continual- ly heard bears growling in the distance. By the early morn- ing they were near the border and were stopped in their tracks by a stream swollen, by recent melting snows, into a raging river. They could not cross in broad daylight, but when darkness fell they joined hands in a chain and attemp- ted the crossing. The stones slid from under their feet, the fast current pulled them under, and after many attempts, they realized that they would have to cross the river at the bridge in the nearby village. Cautiously, they crawled up to the end of the bridge and waited for the clouds to obscure the moonlight. Then, silently, in single file, they crept across the bridge. Suddenly a dog started to bark, and with- in seconds other dogs joined in. A light appeared in one of the houses, and frantically they ran across the bridge and flung themselves into the ditch of slush and snow on the opposite side. They lay in the freezing water for fifteen minutes until the noise had subsided and the dogs were quiet. Then very quietly they rose and continued on their way. The border was now only one hour ' s journey away, and when tliey came to the foot of the hill, the guide told them llial on ihr other side was Hungary. However, between ihcni aiul freedom were the Russians patrolling the top of the liiil uilh (ierman shepherd dogs. They decided that if ihey were seen and ordered to stop, Roman and six others who carried weapons would shoot it out with the Russians, allowing llie rest of the party to circle round to the right through a valley ami escape to freedom. Again, as a dark cloud covered the moon, they raced for the frontier. Suddetdy, a Russian voice shouted, Stop! dogs barked furiously, and they heard the whine of bullets. Immediately the firing party dropped to the ground and started return- ing their fire. The larger group moved to the right to cross at a different poijit amongst the Russians. Seconds later, there was a terrific explosion and then the sound of dogs whining anil men screaming from pain. Roman and the others discovered later that a Russian soldier was wounded as he was about to throw a hand grenade. He dropped the grenade, which exploded, injuring the dogs, killing some men, and wounding others. Their hearts pounding, the Poles got up and ran for their lives across the border into Hungary. All of them reached safety, not knowing where the rest of their party was, so they hid in the bushes and waited lor daylight. The next morning tliey saw Hungarian soldiers advancing in a line towards them at the bottom of the hill. They were taken where the rest of tlieir group welcomed them with open arms. But fate had one more blow in store for them. The Russians demanded their return because they had kill- ed and wounded some of their men and dogs. The Hungar- ians, who were not at war with Russia, should normally have returned them, in which case they would have faced a firing squad, but there was, in their group, the son of an official in the Polish Diplomatic Service in Budapest. Through his influence, they were all allowed to stay in Hungary. Two weeks later, Roman said farewell to the rest of the escape party and started his journey to the Middle East to join the Polish army being formed there. During the Second World War, there were thousands of escapes from occupied countries across thousands of miles of frontier, but 1 have a special pride in telling this story — for Roman is my father! ! Nina Jezek Form V B 26

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HOUSE EDITOR: LOUISE PIGOT OUR FUTURE? A trace of cosmic dust. A bit of radiation. The far astronomers rushed— to write— There once was a planet third from the sun. Sheila Fishbourne Form VI A PEOPLE When God created man He made them different colours. But each one has a heart and soul And feels Uke all the others. So we must be kind to everyone No matter what they are. In being kind, I ' m sure that they Will love us more by far. Some day peace and happiness Will spread through all the earth. But it must start with you and me. Even if we are the first. Lonny Wall, Form II MUSTARD! PLEASE! Us. Yes. Seven glasses of water. You can ' t count. I want two. 1 can count — 1 can ' t carry. I ' ll go with you. Us too. Sit down; three is enough. 1 flunked my Chemistry. Guess who just spilled her water? She pushed me. Macedonia was in Rome. Could you ask Jo to pass the mustard? ! What happened in 206 B.C.? We aren ' t there yet. OUCH! What are you doing in the Gym Dem? Can I have some more? Exercises. JUDO exercises. Who has the mustard NOW? ! How did you do in your EngUsh? 1 feel sick. Well, you ' ve only had four mUks! Stop talking! Miss Harvie is standing and looking at us! Did someone ask for the mustard? Nabiha Atallah, Form IV A AT LUNCH What ' s there to eat today? Did you do your math? What math? Neither did I, Can I please have the mustard? What did you think of the history test? UGH! Who kicked me? Please pass the mustard. How ' s your foot? Sore. Who defeated the Persians? Julius Caesar. Mustard! Please! Where ' s my spoon? Did Darius win the battle in 509 B.C.? My hot dog has mould on it! I know— we studied it in Biology! That ' s relish. Kathy, stop hogging the mustard! I stiD can ' t do an aerial walkover. Can 1 go get some water? Anybody else want some? I do. JUNE When that hot June with his sonne-beams brighte The work of May hath made to leave us quite. And soothed every throbbing heade in thoughte Of fuUe three months with booke-worke naught; When questing breezes with hire cooling breath In every wight ' s bodie inspired hath The spirit of games, of balle and of nette, Among the leaves in gardens drippynge wette After that from the cloudes, showeres Ughte Y-fallen have, to maken aUe brighter- Then longen folk to seken hire friendes. And from lerninge hire ways they wish to wende; Then are they intercepted by EXAMS, And on alle wordly joys are placed bans. So now, for that they heedless were of studie, In joyous June they pay the penaltie. Vivien Law, Form IV B 25

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HONG KONG PEARL OF THE ORIENT AND HE WILL BE CONDEMNED I like to go window sliopping along St. Catherine Street. Sometimes I go into the little fancy stores and pick up a thing or two tliat catch my eye. I always turn them upside- down automatically, and most of the time I find the words Made in British Colony Hong Kong . Yes, Hong Kong, the little island where I came fr om, the little island that used to be my home, the little island that 1 love so much I lived in an apartment building in the suburbs in Hong Kong. From the balcony of my flat, I could see the valley surrounded by hills and a piece of grassland spreading from the valley. The grassland trimmed the deep blue sea, wliich stretched far across the surface of the earth until it touched the sky. There was a beach there by the grassland called Deep Water Bay. It was only one of the many beaches in Hong Kong. We used to go swimming every morning when the air was fresh and the sun was just rising. Sometimes it got so hot that even the sea water was warm. Imagine when the temperature rises to 94 Fahrenheit! Even in winter we used to go to the little cafes by the sea and spend a pleas- ant windy afternoon sipping tea or coffee. The sea was glamorous in the afternoons. It shimmered like a diamond under the blazing sun. If we really wanted to experience life in the country , we used to go to the New Territories, which were lent to the British government by the Chinese Republic. Farmers and fishermen lived there, and most of the plains were fields where rice was grown. Cows and sheep could be seen on the road, or on the muddy grassland near the highway. Tourists liked to go there because there they could find what they had always thought was the real way the Chinese lived. Many Chinese-style temples and gardens were built to attract tourists. The city itself was as enchanting as the suburbs. We used to walk all over the town, just window-shopping. It was so glamorous at night with all the neon lights and cars. It was like a plate of different coloured jewels. Beautiful, beauti- ful! Yet I always loved the suburb ' s lights better, where, on the pitch black sea, a few dim yellow lights were moving around, and in the sky above, the stars were winking their bright little eyes, and the moon was moving gracefully and slowly across the sky like a noble lady. The little insects in the forest sang sweet little tunes, and got occasional applause from the dogs in the houses nearby. It was so peaceful at night! Every night felt like a Christmas Eve. And the things we used to do there — walking along the shady road, sitting on a rock listening to the waves, lazing on the grass in the military cemetery, running barefoot in the stream in the hills in a heavy rain, floating on the crys- tal sea, shaking hands under the water, leaning against the closed door to listen to the roaring wind in a storm, oh, and millions of other little things we used to do. Fifteen years on that little island; I am glad those years have not been wasted. Mary Stephen, Form VI B A young man stood in silence, A sheet of paper in one trembling hand; Slowly his empty hand grasped a metal object, Then he was still. His once clear head became cloudy — His brain became a colloid of rushing thoughts; He had thoughts of his brothers — Men of all colours and creeds; His thoughts were of the hate and prejudice of man. And in the back of his tortured mind Was fear. And though this feeling of self-fear was minute in proportion to his universal concern — It was there. It accompanied the other multitude of thoughts — And why not? The man hesitated another flickering instant And then raised his hand. His heart beat wildly and he could not control his fingers. But somehow the flame was kindled, and the paper glowed. And then only the ashes remained. He looked at them blankly; Then he sat down. His entire body was racked with sobs. And he knew. Deep inside him he knew 1 1 r could never go to war. Paula Engels, Form VI A DEATH Death is a wondrous thing. She comes by day or night. Sometimes to those suffering. To relieve them from their plight. And what of us the living When one close to us dies? We weep and wail and wonder. But for whom? Therein my question lies. For the dead yet live on Somewhere far better than earth, In a place where races of any creed or colour Exist, without war, but with peace and mirth. Nancy WaU, Form V B 27