The recording was created as part of the project „Preservation, Development, Digitalization, and Promotion of the PIASA Collections – Stage V,” co-financed by the Ministry of Culture and National Heritage of the Republic of Poland.
Nagranie powstało w ramach zadania: „Zabezpieczenie, opracowanie, digitalizacja i promocja zbiorów PIASA – etap V”. Dofinansowano ze środków Ministra Kultury i Dziedzictwa Narodowego Rzeczypospolitej Polskiej.
Polish prisoner named Włodek Turczyniak, having secured a position as the SS kitchen warehouseman, began contemplating an escape. Surveying his surroundings, he concluded that, by removing certain obstacles, he could take the risk of making a break for „freedom” from the warehouse area, which was near the Soła River. One wall of the building was not secured with barbed wire on the river side, and the lower windows on that wall belonged to the building’s basement. These windows were fitted with iron bars, and the basement itself had a heavy iron door with a lock, the key to which was held by the warehouse squad leader, who guarded it as if it were his own life.
Turczyniak meticulously examined all of this, and being a cunning and daring young man, he began taking action. In other words, he made an imprint of the basement door’s keyhole. With this imprint, he could commission a key from Michał Kula, a master locksmith. Kula, a sharp fellow, suspected that Włodek wanted access to some SS food supplies, which greatly motivated him to take on the job. With the promise of a share in the profits, he put in all his effort, and within two days, the key was ready.
Turczyniak tested the key and found it to be a perfect fit. He rewarded Kula generously, paying him with cigarettes, salami, and an entire loaf of bread. This generosity was a calculated move — Włodek wanted to encourage Kula to craft yet another illicit item: a key suitable for unscrewing the bolts securing the iron bars on the basement window. This was crucial to Turczyniak’s plan.
The camp’s construction management, which worked closely with the local German solders to devise all kinds of security measures to prevent escapes, had failed to check everything. As a result, the basement bars had not been embedded into the wall but merely attached to it. The squad leader was aware of this flaw but consoled himself with the thought that, in case of a fire, the bars could be removed to salvage supplies. The bars were held in place by two hinges, fastened with large screws to the masonry.
With the right key, the screws could be loosened, the bars quietly removed, and an escape made through the window toward the Soła River. Having carefully thought everything through, Włodek took measurements of the screws and gave Kula a drawing. The locksmith, who had personally installed the bars a year earlier, immediately understood Turczyniak’s plan. He stared at the drawing for a long time, silently lit one of the cigarettes given to him, then looked Włodek in the eye and finally spoke.
„I know what you’re up to; I can forge the key, but I don’t want to know anything beyond that! If you get caught, you must say you stole the key from our work detail. And even if you succeed, take both keys with you and throw them into the Soła later. Swear that you’ll do this!”
„I swear,” Turczyniak replied, looking Kula straight in the eye. He then doubled the payment, which sealed the deal. The risk was enormous, but Kula, from his experience in the camp, knew that even obtaining an extra bowl of soup was a life-threatening gamble. However, those who feared taking risks ended up going up the chimney.
A few days later, once the key was ready and tested on the screws, Turczyniak began to see glimmers of freedom. Though many obstacles still lay ahead, he could hardly believe how close he was to his great moment.
The most challenging part so far had been sketching the screws, as the squad leader rarely took Włodek with him into the basement. Even when he did, he was careful and kept a close watch, but the prisoner outwitted him. He managed to make the drawing without being caught. Hiding both keys in the attic, he then began devising a way to acquire civilian clothing.
To achieve this, he needed to establish contact with someone who worked in the civilian clothing warehouse, known in camp slang as „Effects.” The effects room work detail consisted of prisoners thoroughly vetted by the camp administration. Those assigned to it knew that any deviation from the rules could be dangerous. It was a relatively good job—indoors, light work, and offering a better chance of survival. Occasionally, when quietly exchanging an old striped uniform for a new one, one could receive a ration of bread, a few cigarettes, or even a can of pâté from a kapo or a block elder—without much risk.
The Effects section also had a small tailoring workshop where SS uniforms were pressed and even altered. This was where the famous Harry, a master safecracker, worked. His colleagues on the outside had once helped him escape. In addition to cracking safes, Harry was an expert at cutting and sewing military uniforms—so skilled that he had no competition in the camp.
As for Turczyniak, he planned his acquisition of civilian clothes in stages. Under the pretext of preparing for winter, he first persuaded Bastyr from Effects to procure a thick, dark woolen sweater in exchange for a piece of pâté. Bastyr knew that the SS turned a blind eye to civilian sweaters worn by kapos – the supervisors and block elders, so he made an exception for Turczyniak as well.
Finding the right sweater took time — Włodek pretended to be picky, rejecting some as too worn or too thin. In reality, he was waiting for an opportunity to discreetly snatch a civilian cap. His sneaky maneuver worked perfectly. Before Bastyr even noticed, a gray cyclist’s cap was already hidden under Włodek’s waistband. Only then did he agree to take the sweater, which he tucked under his camp jacket before returning to his work detail.
The SS kitchen attic was spacious, allowing him to hide both the sweater and the cap. Later, during another visit to Effects, under the pretext of changing his prison uniform, he managed to swipe a pair of thin gray trousers. Carefully folded, they too were hidden under his jacket. Now he had a complete civilian outfit, stashed away in the attic, though in a different hiding place than the keys. He was sure no one would find them.
But, as the saying goes, the devil never sleeps. In this case, the devil took the form of a Volksdeutscher from Żywiec, who happened to be snooping around the attic and stumbled upon Włodek’s bundle of civilian clothing. The discovery stunned the man, but fortune was on Turczyniak’s side—he happened to enter the attic at that very moment. Spotting the Volksdeutscher holding his trousers and cap in surprise, Włodek’s heart nearly stopped.
„Good God! Where did these civilian clothes come from?!” he shouted, masking his fear with feigned shock.
„I don’t know,” the Volksdeutscher replied. „I was just wondering what to do with them…”
„If you don’t know, I do! Don’t you realize that for something like this, our entire work detail—including you and me—could be sent to the Penal Company? There’s only one option: put them back where they were, and later, I’ll quietly throw them in the furnace and burn them!”
„The sooner, the better,” the Volksdeutscher agreed, realizing his own skin was at stake.
The performance was so convincing that the man didn’t suspect a thing. An hour later, Włodek carried a well-stuffed sack down from the attic and, in full view of the Volksdeutscher, tossed it into the roaring furnace. In reality, only a few old sacks burned, while the civilian clothes were relocated to a safer hiding place.
Now, only one month remained before his planned escape—set for an evening just before Christmas Eve. He had timed it well, knowing that the SS guards would be more distracted during the holidays, with many going on leave.
As the crucial day approached, Włodek’s satisfaction grew, along with his hope for a successful escape, until finally, the long-awaited pre-New Year’s Eve evening arrived. Darkness had already fallen when a truck arrived with goods for a larger unloading. Lamps were lit in front of the warehouse and the kitchen. Within a small radius around the buildings, several SS guards stood on post, but the wall of the building facing the Soła River was free of them.
Turczyniak knew this, so he discreetly carried the keys and clothing from the attic down to the basement, then quickly returned to his workers, urging them to hurry with loud shouts. The squad leader, already slightly drunk, was pleased with this enthusiasm—certain that the unloading in the warehouse was proceeding smoothly, he entrusted everything to Włodek and went to the kitchen to have „one more” drink and eat some hot ham.
Turczyniak, who had been waiting for just this moment, leaped into the basement like a lion, turned the key in the lock, opened the door, rushed to the grate, and feeling for the screws, unscrewed both. Though pulling the grate away was difficult, he used all his strength, removed the iron bars, and quietly, as best he could, placed them beside the wall. He hid both keys—the one from the lock in his pants pocket, the one from the screws inside his coat. Grabbing the small package of clothes, he unhooked the window latches and pushed it open with all his might.
Seconds later, he was already beyond the wall, darting like an arrow to the Soła River and swimming across to the other side. Though the entire operation lasted less than five minutes, the squad leader had finished his „one deep gulp,” followed it with another, and slowly, while still chewing his ham, walked unsteadily into the courtyard.
For now, his mind was still clear enough, so he sharply scanned the yard. At first glance, the Kommando was busy unloading, but an unnatural silence hung in the air—Turczyniak’s shouting was missing, and that puzzled him.
Not yet suspecting anything serious, he started looking around for his warehouseman, getting angrier when he couldn’t see him anywhere. The first ones to cross his path were the Kluz brothers.
” Where is Włodek? I need Włodek quickly!” he shouted at them.
The brothers obediently ran to the warehouse, calling out everywhere:
„Włodek! Włodek, report to the boss! Włodek — right now!”
Since Włodek was nowhere to be found upstairs, they ran down to the basement just in case. There, they suddenly noticed that the basement door was wide open, and a draft from the empty window proved it had been opened.
In a flash of realization, both brothers grasped what had happened.
„Oh no, Włodek ran away!” the older Kluz exclaimed excitedly.
„You know what, brother? Let’s run too! In God’s name — go!” added the younger one.
Helping each other, they climbed through the window. Moments later, the splash of the Soła greeted their plunge, followed their swimming, and when they finally emerged, dripping with freezing water onto the shore, the blackness of the night swallowed them completely in its impenetrable cloak. No one in the camp ever saw them again — they vanished like thin air, together with Włodek.
Józef Reszka
The recording was created as part of the project „Preservation, Development, Digitalization, and Promotion of the PIASA Collections – Stage V,” co-financed by the Ministry of Culture and National Heritage of the Republic of Poland.
Nagranie powstało w ramach zadania: „Zabezpieczenie, opracowanie, digitalizacja i promocja zbiorów PIASA – etap V”. Dofinansowano ze środków Ministra Kultury i Dziedzictwa Narodowego Rzeczypospolitej Polskiej.