On 22 February 1949, the Magistrates’ Court in Lipsko nad Wisłą, with Judge Aniela Krężelewska presiding and with the participation of a reporter, Stanisław Wroński, on the motion of the Main Commission for the Investigation of German Crimes in Poland, pursuant to Article 4 of the Decree of 10 November 1945 (Journal of Laws of the Republic of Poland No. 51, item 293) and Articles 107, 109, 113, and 115 of the Code of Criminal Procedure, heard the person named below as a witness. Having been advised of the criminal liability for making false declarations and of the significance of the oath, the witness was sworn pursuant to Article 111 of the Code of Criminal Procedure and testified as follows:
| Name and surname | Anna Chmielnicka |
| Date and place of birth | 10 April 1910, the village of Wiśniówek, Krępa Kościelna commune, Iłża district |
| Religious affiliation | Roman Catholic |
| Nationality and state affiliation | Polish |
| Occupation | housekeeper, farmer, lives with her husband |
| Place of residence | Lipsko nad Wisłą |
| Criminal record | none |
The Germans entered Lipsko at dawn on 8 September 1939. Three Germans on motorcycles were followed by tanks. At first they behaved peacefully, but before noon they made a round of the houses and gathered a large group of men in the town square. The men were ordered to sit down in front of the fire station and had machine guns cocked at them. Then some senior officer arrived in a taxi and asked the Germans what those people had done to them; the Germans replied that they didn’t do anything, but were wandering around and getting in their way. The senior officer ordered that the gathered men be searched for knives, other weapons and razors. The men were searched, but nothing was found on any of them.
After the search the Germans ordered the men to sit down and listen. They strictly forbade them to wander around or leave their homes, even should “flames or axes come falling from the sky”. The interpreter who was then present remarked that people had to leave their homesteads to fetch water or tend livestock. The officer replied that these things should be taken care of by 6.00 p.m. by women and children. At the same time, in the fields by the road bordering on the fields of the village of Cukrówka, the Germans killed fourteen Polish soldiers who had raised their arms and surrendered.
When the men went back home, the Germans captured a Jew whose surname I no longer remember and on whom they found a razor. The Jew was killed and I saw that other Jews carried him to the synagogue. On the way there they cursed the war and the Germans, saying, “Rascals! They killed such a decent man, such an indecent army!” Three Germans on a motorcycle with a trailer rode very slowly by these men, listening to their expletives. Next they went to that senior officer to report to him what they had heard. The senior officer ordered them to shoot any Jew they should stumble upon during the next 24 hours. It was then that the Germans set fire to the synagogue, killing those gathered inside. Those who tried to escape the burning building through the doors or windows had grenades hurled at them. My Jewish friends, Moszek Grynberg and Aron Kac, who in the spring of 1942 were deported by the gendarmerie, told me that over 120 Jews were killed in the synagogue alone.
Later the Germans murdered Jews at various points in the town. I saw a German kill a man carrying a load in Kościelna Street, and then the same German spared Josek Fajfer, a Jew he was acquainted with, only warning him against wandering around. On the next day I went out searching for my two daughters, respectively 4 and 5 years old, who had sneaked out of the house. I met my Jewish friend, Chana Kac, and we asked each other about our children. Next I went to my sister, Paulina Wrońska, who lived at Iłżecka Street, and found my children at her place. While I was there, 12 Jews were stood against the gate opposite my sister’s house and killed. I turned my head so as not to see it. I didn’t see the bodies up close. The corpses were left lying in the street for a day and a night; the pigs, chased out of the burning buildings, were circling the corpses and nibbling at them. I wanted to take my children home, so I asked a soldier who was standing nearby whether I could cross the town safely. The soldier advised me against walking alone, saying that it would be a better idea to join some soldier who was going in that direction, as the troops were shooting and he couldn’t take responsibility for the bullets.
The shooting lasted until 11.00 a.m. on 9 September 1939. On the way to my house I saw German soldiers banging on the doors of various houses and looting those where nobody was home. They also plundered shops, stealing valuable materials such as wool and silk. The cheaper things were handed out to the crowd. On the afternoon of 9 September 1939, the Germans ordered that the murdered Jews be buried. From that time on the town was quiet – until the gendarmerie arrived.
At this point the report was concluded, read out and signed.