On 18 October 1947, in Końskie, the Końskie Branch of the District Commission for the Investigation of German Crimes, represented by a member of the Commission, K. Gwarek, interviewed the person named below as an unsworn witness. Having been advised of the criminal liability for making false declarations and of the wording of Article 107 of the Code of Criminal Procedure, the witness testified as follows:
| Name and surname | Stanisław Chamczyk |
| Age | 74 |
| Parents’ names | Józef and Franciszka |
| Place of residence | Kornica |
| Occupation | farmer |
| Religious affiliation | Roman Catholic |
| Relationship to the parties | father of the murdered Kazimierz Chamczyk |
On 16 September 1943, in my flat in Kornica, German gendarmes and the Kalmyks [probably Asian-looking Russian soldiers or former Soviet prisoners, fighting on the German side] arrested my grandson Stanisław Portuła. My son Kazimierz Chamczyk had left at noon that day on a bicycle without saying where he was going, so he was not at home. I went to where the arrestees were assembled and saw my son Kazimierz there, among them. As I found out later from [illegible] Władysław Szewczyk from Barycz, Gowarczów commune, my son had been riding on a bicycle through the village when he was detained by German guards and taken to Kornica.
Eighteen arrestees from Kornica, including my son and grandson, were transferred to the prison in Końskie. Until 21 September 1943, food packages for my son were accepted in the prison, and then [they] were rejected, with no explanation given.
During the next two years, there was no news about my son. We thought he was in Germany doing forced labor. In February 1945, as far as I remember, the inhabitants of Kornica found and excavated a grave in the Barycz camp near Końskie, revealing between ten and twenty male corpses. Among those corpses, my wife Anna and my son Ryszard recognized my murdered son Kazimierz – by the preserved remnants of clothing and shoes. Together with the remaining bodies, my son was buried in the cemetery in Końskie, in a common grave.
After my son’s arrest, a friend of Kazimierz’s, from the village of Komaszyce, told me that on 16 September 1943, my son had come to Komaszyce by bicycle carrying orders as a liaison of a Polish organization and was captured on his way back. My son never told me anything about being in the organization. I don’t know the names of the German gendarmes in Końskie.
The report was read out.