I was asleep, tired of traveling, but not hard adequate to miss the router's warning.
– We scope the block-post! – the man shouted and started slowing down.
I breathed. We were somewhere between Debalcev and Donetsk, in the area of the separatist “republic”. I wasn't very happy about the documentary checks in the breath - stricken village. On a busy Donetsk street, the military simply lacked time for a thorough examination of papers and revision. Here – I was calculating – even to kill boredom they could afford to hold bus passengers. Especially Poles.
– Guys, accreditation on top – I turned to my colleagues. Michael and Darek knew precisely what was going on. So far, the receipts from the so-called: Ministry of Information DRL, presented together with the passport, allowed us to avoid trouble. But it was not certain that it would be this time. "Wostok battalion boys treat accreditation differently. You know, hot Caucasian blood can rip you up," we were warned at the office issuing the document. It's kind of loyal, but it's like a snack, like a female handing out paper to this jerk wishes us.
A man with European facial features entered the bus. "Well, not Chechen," I thought, although I was somewhat afraid about the Russian flag on the sleeve of the uniform.
– We are journalists from Poland – I said, giving the Russian an eagle book on the cover.
Bored so far, the Sergeant's face was clouded.
– Your passports! – he was drying out towards the boys.
Michael and Dark's papers ended up in the Russian's pocket. "That's ass," I said. Behind the window of 3 soldiers about the beauty of the capers, they smoked cigarettes and looked dangerously at the window of the router. The local passengers were in their seats strangely, although it was apparent that they were looking in our direction. I was certain they were expecting something. And so am I, a fewer days ago. It was then that 2 abroad journalists received a solid beating while crossing the demarcation line ("borders" of Ukraine and DRL). The rebels didn't just beat them, they robbed them.
In the meantime, an aged C.O. carded my passport.
– Where were you? – he asked, without taking his eyes off 1 of my Afghan visas.
We went to Debaltev to do a communicative on a city that was coming back to life, severely damaged in fresh fights.
– Uh, the Russian nodded, proceeding this explanation. "You'll most likely lie anyway," he answered and gave me my passport back. He then took out the boys' papers, looked at their another sides, and besides returned them to the owners. – You can go – he turned and moved on to the exit. Standing at the door, he looked at us, and with a voice of remorse, he said: "Explain to this minister who truly liberated the camp in Auschwitz...
——–
Three months earlier, in a radio interview with Jedynka, the then head of the Polish Ministry of abroad Affairs, Grzegorz Schetyna, said: "(...) is the first Ukrainian front and Ukrainians liberated (Auschwitz). It was the Ukrainian soldiers (...) who opened the gates of the camp.”
The speech took place on the 70th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz and was part of the political context of early 2015. The aggressive actions of Russia in Ukraine – nevertheless they did not meet that the decisive reaction of the European Union and NATO – resulted in a series of "faults", which were besides carried out on a symbolic level. Schetina's words were heavy moscaled, as evidenced by diplomatic protests at the highest level. But regret besides appeared on the lowest levels – as we found in Donbas.
——–
Decades of aggressive propaganda made the Russians believe in the story of the only winners of planet War II, called the large Patriotic War by them. In the story of liberators, who previously – this is besides highly crucial – became victims of German aggression. It was a lie in the times of the USSR, a lie with the era of putin. After 2000, even more – then this story became the basis of state ideology, and 9 have, the day of victory, the most crucial feast of Russia. Not only was there no place in this communicative to emphasize the merits of the Western Allies, there was no space for reflection on your own responsibility. The alliance with Hitler, the demolition of Poland, the capture of the Baltic countries, the attack on Finland and the brutal cleansings accompanying each annexation – these facts were omitted, lied, in various ways annulled. The war began on June 22, 1941, and ended with Berlin's winning storm in May 1945. On the way, brave Ivan opened the gates of the concentration camp in Auschwitz.
This Ivan was a Russian – Putinism further corrected the myth, denying russian cultural minorities. Meanwhile, the German concentration camp in Auschwitz was liberated by army soldiers, which included representatives of all the nationalities of the USSR. With the advantage of the Russians, it is simply a fact, but the next largest group were Ukrainians. We can talk about this in the context of a single event, but this concerns the full war effort made by the Soviets. Trying to take credit for Russia and the Russians is simply a gross theft. And the reaction referred to in the first part of the text perfectly explains the popular saying here: “on the thief's gore hat”.
Ano gore.
So on January 27, 1945, the camp gate was opened by soldiers of the multiethnic Red Army. Praise be to them, considering what the place was unleashed. But today, on the 80th anniversary of these events, it's hard to escape unfunny thoughts. It was expected to be “never again!” and yet it is not – the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of Russian liberators cook a terrible destiny for the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of Ukrainian liberators. I do not equate the Holocaust with the Russian crime in Ukraine – not these goals and not this scale, but methods frequently stay the same. I am talking about the destiny of Ukrainian captives in Russian captivity, regularly beaten, raped, maimed, fed to animals or not fed at all, without simple medical care. These people, erstwhile they return from “inhuman land”, look like prisoners from Auschwitz. They're like walking skeletons, half-living beings, ghosts; they're just short of...
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