…
I walked past the bench today on the old pathway
a place we’d sit surrounded by woodland’s stretches
Where I’d listened to you talk of Poland before the war
…
Of the Germans, Auschwitz and you as a teenage boy
delivering bread from your father’s bakery
to the Waffen SS barracks I remembered in sepia tones
…
Photographs only. And you’d lose some loaves behind
the wire fences – no more words, no more details.
you did what was needed to be done. No questions.
…
What else could you do. Nothing more to say
The old bench is falling away now, the pathway a mire
of boot marks washed in black mud by the rains
…
constant falling and your days my dear Stanislaus
are getting forgotten too. Are you listening to the way the rain
is falling again today. And so with thoughts of you I walk through
…
the heavy leafed trees weighed by the gathering rain
I’m lucky I’ve been surrounded by people like you
who through their actions mattered, your words of kindness too
…
Remembering you I often wonder how your fathers bread tasted,
how it smelled in that place where burning flesh consumed the air
where burning human flesh and the violence could not be ignored.
…
And as you told me once silence kills – imagine a life with that?
Stanislaus Pipkin was originally from Poland. His father a baker
was forced to supply bread to the SS Barracks in Auschwitz
…
Concentration Extermination camp. Stanislaus as a teenager
helped his father by delivering bread to the barracks.
He also gave bread to the inmates although to do so
…
meant certain execution if discovered. Stanislaus
didn’t talk much about his activities.
After the war Poland was overran by Soviet forces
…
and Stanislaus was eventually forced to escape to Britain.
He came to live in Wales where he worked in the mines.
He married, raised a family in Pontypridd.
…
When the communists were ousted from Poland
Stanislaus was able to return free from the fear
of reprisal for his activities.
…
Stanislaus Pipkin was honoured by Poland as a National Hero.
©robcullen30062020
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