On 12 March 1948 in Kraków a member of the Main Commission for the Investigation of German Crimes in Poland, Magistrate Stanisław Żmuda (PhD), acting in accordance with the provisions of and procedure provided for under the Decree of 10 November 1945 (Journal of Laws of the Republic of Poland No. 51, Item 293) in connection with Article 254, 107 and 115 of the Penal Code, interviewed the undermentioned as a witness, who testified as follows:
Name and surname | Samuel Stoeger |
Date and place of birth | 14 May 1911, Kraków |
Parents’ names | Majer and Matylda, née Weiss |
Religion | Jewish |
Nationality | Polish |
Occupation | miller |
Place of residence | Kraków, Kalwaryjska Street 63/5 |
Following the liquidation of the Kraków ghetto, which occurred on 13 March 1943, the German occupation authorities sent me as a prisoner to the forced labor camp in Płaszów, where I remained until 16 November 1943. I was later transferred from Płaszów in a transport of 1,600 men. Along the way, the groups of prisoners would be sent to work in Kielce, Skarżysko and Częstochowa, whereas the remainder – 200 men (myself among them) and 200 women – were conveyed to Pionki near Radom, along the Radom–Dęblin route.
The journey from Płaszów to Pionki in closed railcars lasted three days. We were placed in a camp that had been erected (and duly equipped) on the premises of the local factory, and already contained some 2,500 men, women, and even children, in the main from the district of Radom.
I would like to add that the township of Pionki was a factory settlement, where already before the War the Polish authorities had erected the country’s largest and most modernly equipped gunpowder factory, subsequently enlarged and covering 30 km2 of sandy, forested land. I obtained the above information from foremen who worked at the facility. The plant had been taken over by the Germans, who continued the production of gunpowder. The entire factory was surrounded by a barbed wire fence and guarded by the Wehrmacht, while on its premises the Germans established a camp, the inmates of which provided forced labor for the facility. The camp had its own barbed wire fence and was guarded by a “Ukrainian” division, the so- called Blacks. The commandant of this unit was a former Polish Army sergeant, one Globisz, who was known to the local populace and paraded in a German military uniform. I am not certain as to the exact sounding of his surname, however he must have been better known to the foremen, who presently continue to reside in Pionki – among others Paweł Bogacz, Jan Wyłup, and Grabczyk. The said Globisz made life a misery for us prisoners, completely looting newly-arriving transports and – throughout the period of existence of the facility – beating and terrorizing the inmates. He also took part in a few executions of prisoners. Furthermore, he would order special flying squads to conduct searches in the camp and seize any hidden food. The commandant of the camp, and indeed of the whole gunpowder factory, was a major of the German air force, an invalid by the surname of Brandt.
I don’t know when exactly the camp in Pionki was set up, however I heard that it was in the middle of 1942. Its official name was “ Pulverfabrik–Pionki”. The facility itself was located in a forest and surrounded by a barbed wire fence. It comprised 12 living barracks and a few administrative barracks. The camp housed Polish Jews only. No foreign Jews were detained there. On average, it had some 2,500 prisoners, of whom approximately 70% were men, and the rest women and children; there were some 100 children. During its existence, the camp had approximately 3,000 inmates, for natural mortality was relatively low. I was incarcerated there until 29 July 1944, when it was liquidated due to the approach of the Eastern Front.
The evacuation of prisoners had been prepared for 23 July 1944, however partisans blew up the railway bridge and our removal was delayed by a week, until 29 July 1944. At the time, the Eastern Front came to a halt by the Vistula, at a distance of no more than 18 km from the facility. Some 2,400 people were sent by train to the concentration camp in Oświęcim, while around 300 Jewish prisoners were left on the factory premises and used to disassemble machinery and equipment. The journey from Pionki to Oświęcim – in the sweltering heat, with no food or water – took 3 days. A dozen or so people died along the way of hunger and thirst, while another dozen or so were executed by the guards – SS men from the Radom garrison. When we were unloaded in Oświęcim, 3 bodies were found in the wagon in which I had been traveling.
All of the prisoners employed at the factory were guarded by the so-called Blacks, while as regards work on the production of gunpowder in the factory, supervision was exercised by German and Polish foremen. In principle, we were supposed to work 8 hours per day in three shifts, however it was frequently the case that prisoners were sentenced to work 8 hours longer for even the slightest – oftentimes imaginary – infringement. We toiled under a system of strict work discipline. Women performed physical labor equally with the men, and I remember instances when they were forced to carry sacks of gunpowder weighing 50 kg up to the third floor, whereas they could have easily been allowed to use the lifts. People performed various types of work, and some were particularly dangerous to health – such as handling pyrite, or caustic and explosive acids; indeed, these substances were not only detrimental to one’s health, but also destroyed clothes due to their innate aggressiveness. Lighter work included the cleaning and maintenance of factory premises and bringing in materials, however Jewish prisoners were used for these tasks only sporadically, for some 3,000 laborers – regular residents of Pionki – were specially employed for this purpose. Each prisoner would receive one half liter of soup daily, and a weekly allowance or ration, this comprising 1,40 kg of bread, 15 decagrams of marmalade and 10 decagrams of sugar. Fortunately, prisoners received additional food from the Polish laborers, who handed their factory food rations over to them in secret. Thanks to their help, we inmates were somehow able to survive our ordeal. There was an infirmary at the camp, which was located in one of the barracks, however it didn’t have any drugs or dressings. The majority of patients were those who suffered work- related accidents. There were no epidemics in Pionki, however prisoners owed their relatively good health and resistance to illnesses to the fact that they drank the spirit intended for the production of gunpowder. The natural mortality rate at the camp was relatively low.
Prisoners detained in Pionki were subordinate to the SS-Polizei-Führer in Radom, who following any reports submitted by the camp authorities or individual foremen (Germans) would administer punishment (including the death penalty) to inmates. I remember two executions carried out at the facility by SS men from the Radom garrison. The first of these took place in May 1944, if my memory serves me right, and claimed the lives of 8 male prisoners, while the second was conducted in June 1944 (or so I think); the victims were again male prisoners, 4 in all, who had been charged with stealing spirit. The bodies of these prisoners were buried in a spinney near the camp, on the factory grounds. As I heard, a total of 30 corpses are lying there. One of the bodies is that of a partisan commander, a former inspector of the Polish State Police; I know this because I had a look at his police card when he was being buried, however I no longer remember his surname. In January 1944, he led a group of partisans who attacked the factory premises with the objective of acquiring explosives and freeing us prisoners. The assault, however, was unsuccessful, and the commander paid for its failure with his life.
I don’t remember the surnames of inmates who were buried on the grounds of the camp, nor those of my co-prisoners. Many of them were citizens of Radom, and – if still alive – in all certainty reside there.
From Pionki, the Germans sent me to Oświęcim concentration camp, from there to Gliwice, and – finally – to Blechhammer, where I was liberated on 18 January 1945.
At this point the report was brought to a close and, after being read out, signed.