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Dziadek did you have a gun?

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  • Anne Kaczanowski
    Many times when my son was small he used to ask my Dad about what it was like being a soldier. Dziadek did you have a gun? Did you ever kill anyone? My Dad
    Message 1 of 14 , Nov 5, 2004
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      Many times when my son was small he used to ask my Dad about what it was like being a soldier.  Dziadek did you have a gun? Did you ever kill anyone? My Dad would be silent not knowing how to answer....and in his mind, momentarily,  he went into a dark and private place.    Two weeks ago I went to visit an old army veteran and his small grandson listened to us talk, and the same question was asked " Dziadek did you have a gun? Did you ever kill anyone?  And I recognized that same look come over the old mans face and I understood it better.  I think many in this situation had difficulty in telling their children and granchildren what being a soldier really meant.
       
        I wrote this poem for Rememberence Day. 2004,  for Kresy members ...
      perhaps someone experienced the same memory and might like to share this with their family. 
       
       Enjoy and Remember!
       
      hania 
       
       
       
       

      Dziadek, did you have a gun?

       

       

      The old man sat in his rocker with his grandson at his feet

      As he told stories from his youth, many left incomplete.

      The young boy played with the medals, tokens from the war.

      And with childhood innocence kept wanting to hear more.

       

      �Dziadek were you a soldier? Dziadek did you have a gun?

      Dziadek, dziadek  did you ever have to kill anyone?�

       

      The old man nodded and let his thoughts drift back

      To a time when his country was heavily under attack

      Instead of enjoying autumn leaves and warm September nights

      He was handed a gun and volunteered to fight.

       

      Gone were his dreams of a future, love and romance

      Everyday now could be the last dance.

      He stared into the face of death and searched deep within his soul

      And asked God for answers of why this senseless toll?

       

      He had quickly become a man inside a boy

      And his youth was robbed of love and joy

      He could still hear the roar of canons that filled the air

      As naked evil spirits brought on misery and despair

       

      Broken dreams and shattered lives kaliedscoped the earthly floor

      As spirits soared amidst the smoke leaving behind the bloody war.

      He tried not to relive the sadness and the pain

      But to forget this all would mean his comrades died in vain.

       

      He felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a whisper of a long lost friend

      �I would tell the story, if your grandson to me you would lend.

      I had dreams of a family, a home, remember the stories we shared?

      But my life was taken away from me and yours was spared.�

       

      �Dziadek, dziadek did you have a gun?

      Dziadek, dziadek did you have to kill anyone?�

       

      Looking down into the eyes of his grandson it all became very clear,

      As he again had to become a proud soldier and wiped away a tear.

      His gnarled old hand brushed back the hair of the tiny little face

      It was his duty to teach this boy and to hide the truth would be a disgrace.

       

      �Yes my child, your dziadek was a soldier and yes I had  a gun

      But my war was not a game and I never shot for fun.

      When you are older you will understand the job I had to do.

      And now I understand what I gave up,  I did for you.�

       

      hania kaczanowska 2004

       


      Do you Yahoo!?
      Check out the new Yahoo! Front Page. www.yahoo.com
    • Halina Szulakowska
      Hania, this is beautiful! As soon as I read the title of your email, I understood exactly what you wanted to say. I asked the same question of Tata when I was
      Message 2 of 14 , Nov 5, 2004
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        Hania, this is beautiful! As soon as I read the title of your email, I understood exactly what you wanted to say. I asked the same question of Tata when I was little and he was talking about Arnhem. Thank you.
         
        Halina Szulakowska
        -----Original Message-----
        From: Anne Kaczanowski [mailto:annekaczanowski@...]
        Sent: 05 November 2004 08:34
        To: Kresy-Siberia@yahoogroups.com
        Subject: [Kresy-Siberia] Dziadek did you have a gun?

        Many times when my son was small he used to ask my Dad about what it was like being a soldier.  Dziadek did you have a gun? Did you ever kill anyone? My Dad would be silent not knowing how to answer....and in his mind, momentarily,  he went into a dark and private place.    Two weeks ago I went to visit an old army veteran and his small grandson listened to us talk, and the same question was asked " Dziadek did you have a gun? Did you ever kill anyone?  And I recognized that same look come over the old mans face and I understood it better.  I think many in this situation had difficulty in telling their children and granchildren what being a soldier really meant.
         
          I wrote this poem for Rememberence Day. 2004,  for Kresy members ...
        perhaps someone experienced the same memory and might like to share this with their family. 
         
         Enjoy and Remember!
         
        hania 
         
         
         
         

        Dziadek, did you have a gun?

         

         

        The old man sat in his rocker with his grandson at his feet

        As he told stories from his youth, many left incomplete.

        The young boy played with the medals, tokens from the war.

        And with childhood innocence kept wanting to hear more.

         

        "Dziadek were you a soldier? Dziadek did you have a gun?

        Dziadek, dziadek  did you ever have to kill anyone?"

         

        The old man nodded and let his thoughts drift back

        To a time when his country was heavily under attack

        Instead of enjoying autumn leaves and warm September nights

        He was handed a gun and volunteered to fight.

         

        Gone were his dreams of a future, love and romance

        Everyday now could be the last dance.

        He stared into the face of death and searched deep within his soul

        And asked God for answers of why this senseless toll?

         

        He had quickly become a man inside a boy

        And his youth was robbed of love and joy

        He could still hear the roar of canons that filled the air

        As naked evil spirits brought on misery and despair

         

        Broken dreams and shattered lives kaliedscoped the earthly floor

        As spirits soared amidst the smoke leaving behind the bloody war.

        He tried not to relive the sadness and the pain

        But to forget this all would mean his comrades died in vain.

         

        He felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a whisper of a long lost friend

        "I would tell the story, if your grandson to me you would lend.

        I had dreams of a family, a home, remember the stories we shared?

        But my life was taken away from me and yours was spared."

         

        "Dziadek, dziadek did you have a gun?

        Dziadek, dziadek did you have to kill anyone?"

         

        Looking down into the eyes of his grandson it all became very clear,

        As he again had to become a proud soldier and wiped away a tear.

        His gnarled old hand brushed back the hair of the tiny little face

        It was his duty to teach this boy and to hide the truth would be a disgrace.

         

        "Yes my child, your dziadek was a soldier and yes I had  a gun

        But my war was not a game and I never shot for fun.

        When you are older you will understand the job I had to do.

        And now I understand what I gave up,  I did for you."

         

        hania kaczanowska 2004

         


        Do you Yahoo!?
        Check out the new Yahoo! Front Page. www.yahoo.com
        ****************************************************************************
        KRESY-SIBERIA GROUP = RESEARCH REMEMBRANCE RECOGNITION
        "Dedicated to researching, remembering and recognising the Polish citizens
        deported, enslaved and killed by the Soviet Union during World War Two."
        ****************************************************************************
        Discussion site : http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Kresy-Siberia
        Gallery (photos, documents) : http://www.aforgottenodyssey.com/gallery/
        Film and info : http://www.AForgottenOdyssey.com
        ****************************************************************************
        To SUBSCRIBE to the discussion group, send an e-mail
        saying who you are and describing your interest in the group to:
        Kresy-Siberia-owner@yahoogroups.com
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      • Helena Danielczuk
        Hania what a beautiful poem and so so true. Thank you. You should try to get it published as it is so pertinent and needs to be available to a larger
        Message 3 of 14 , Nov 5, 2004
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          Hania what a beautiful poem and so so true. Thank you.

          You should try to get it published as it is so pertinent and needs to be
          available to a larger audience.

          hela



          Bye 4 now Hela.




          >From: Anne Kaczanowski <annekaczanowski@...>
          >Reply-To: Kresy-Siberia@yahoogroups.com
          >To: Kresy-Siberia@yahoogroups.com
          >Subject: [Kresy-Siberia] Dziadek did you have a gun?
          >Date: Fri, 5 Nov 2004 00:33:34 -0800 (PST)
          >
          >Many times when my son was small he used to ask my Dad about what it was
          >like being a soldier. Dziadek did you have a gun? Did you ever kill
          >anyone? My Dad would be silent not knowing how to answer....and in his
          >mind, momentarily, he went into a dark and private place. Two weeks ago
          >I went to visit an old army veteran and his small grandson listened to us
          >talk, and the same question was asked " Dziadek did you have a gun? Did you
          >ever kill anyone? And I recognized that same look come over the old mans
          >face and I understood it better. I think many in this situation had
          >difficulty in telling their children and granchildren what being a soldier
          >really meant.
          >
          > I wrote this poem for Rememberence Day. 2004, for Kresy members ...
          >perhaps someone experienced the same memory and might like to share this
          >with their family.
          >
          > Enjoy and Remember!
          >
          >hania
          >
          >
          >
          >
          >
          >Dziadek, did you have a gun?
          >
          >
          >
          >
          >
          >The old man sat in his rocker with his grandson at his feet
          >
          >As he told stories from his youth, many left incomplete.
          >
          >The young boy played with the medals, tokens from the war.
          >
          >And with childhood innocence kept wanting to hear more.
          >
          >
          >
          >�Dziadek were you a soldier? Dziadek did you have a gun?
          >
          >Dziadek, dziadek did you ever have to kill anyone?�
          >
          >
          >
          >The old man nodded and let his thoughts drift back
          >
          >To a time when his country was heavily under attack
          >
          >Instead of enjoying autumn leaves and warm September nights
          >
          >He was handed a gun and volunteered to fight.
          >
          >
          >
          >Gone were his dreams of a future, love and romance
          >
          >Everyday now could be the last dance.
          >
          >He stared into the face of death and searched deep within his soul
          >
          >And asked God for answers of why this senseless toll?
          >
          >
          >
          >He had quickly become a man inside a boy
          >
          >And his youth was robbed of love and joy
          >
          >He could still hear the roar of canons that filled the air
          >
          >As naked evil spirits brought on misery and despair
          >
          >
          >
          >Broken dreams and shattered lives kaliedscoped the earthly floor
          >
          >As spirits soared amidst the smoke leaving behind the bloody war.
          >
          >He tried not to relive the sadness and the pain
          >
          >But to forget this all would mean his comrades died in vain.
          >
          >
          >
          >He felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a whisper of a long lost friend
          >
          >�I would tell the story, if your grandson to me you would lend.
          >
          >I had dreams of a family, a home, remember the stories we shared?
          >
          >But my life was taken away from me and yours was spared.�
          >
          >
          >
          >�Dziadek, dziadek did you have a gun?
          >
          >Dziadek, dziadek did you have to kill anyone?�
          >
          >
          >
          >Looking down into the eyes of his grandson it all became very clear,
          >
          >As he again had to become a proud soldier and wiped away a tear.
          >
          >His gnarled old hand brushed back the hair of the tiny little face
          >
          >It was his duty to teach this boy and to hide the truth would be a
          >disgrace.
          >
          >
          >
          >�Yes my child, your dziadek was a soldier and yes I had a gun
          >
          >But my war was not a game and I never shot for fun.
          >
          >When you are older you will understand the job I had to do.
          >
          >And now I understand what I gave up, I did for you.�
          >
          >
          >
          >hania kaczanowska 2004
          >
          >
          >
          >
          >
          >---------------------------------
          >Do you Yahoo!?
          > Check out the new Yahoo! Front Page. www.yahoo.com/a

          _________________________________________________________________
          It's fast, it's easy and it's free. Get MSN Messenger today!
          http://www.msn.co.uk/messenger
        • Paul Havers
          I second that, Get it PUBLISHED Paul
          Message 4 of 14 , Nov 5, 2004
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            I second that, Get it PUBLISHED

            Paul

            At 08:53 05/11/2004, you wrote:


            Hania what a beautiful poem and so so true.  Thank you.

            You should try to get it published as it is so pertinent and needs to be
            available to a larger audience.

            hela



            Bye 4 now Hela.




            >From: Anne Kaczanowski <annekaczanowski@...>
            >Reply-To: Kresy-Siberia@yahoogroups.com
            >To: Kresy-Siberia@yahoogroups.com
            >Subject: [Kresy-Siberia] Dziadek did you have a gun?
            >Date: Fri, 5 Nov 2004 00:33:34 -0800 (PST)
            >
            >Many times when my son was small he used to ask my Dad about what it was
            >like being a soldier.  Dziadek did you have a gun? Did you ever kill
            >anyone? My Dad would be silent not knowing how to answer....and in his
            >mind, momentarily,  he went into a dark and private place.    Two weeks ago
            >I went to visit an old army veteran and his small grandson listened to us
            >talk, and the same question was asked " Dziadek did you have a gun? Did you
            >ever kill anyone?  And I recognized that same look come over the old mans
            >face and I understood it better.  I think many in this situation had
            >difficulty in telling their children and granchildren what being a soldier
            >really meant.
            >
            >   I wrote this poem for Rememberence Day. 2004,  for Kresy members ...
            >perhaps someone experienced the same memory and might like to share this
            >with their family.
            >
            >  Enjoy and Remember!
            >
            >hania
            >
          • Krystyna
            Haniu; Thank you for sharing this lovely poem with us. It brought so many memories to me about my childhood and my relatives who had fought in the war. Now I
            Message 5 of 14 , Nov 5, 2004
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              Haniu;
              Thank you for sharing this lovely poem with us. It brought so many memories to me about my childhood and my relatives who had fought in the war.
               
              Now I work in Long Term Care and spend my days with over 100 seniors.Many of them are veterans. I like to ask you if I could share with them your poem on Rememberance day, November 11th?
               
              Blessings
              Krystyna Styrna-Ejnesman
               

              Helena Danielczuk <helena52@...> wrote:

              Hania what a beautiful poem and so so true. Thank you.

              You should try to get it published as it is so pertinent and needs to be
              available to a larger audience.

              hela



              Bye 4 now Hela.




              >From: Anne Kaczanowski
              >Reply-To: Kresy-Siberia@yahoogroups.com
              >To: Kresy-Siberia@yahoogroups.com
              >Subject: [Kresy-Siberia] Dziadek did you have a gun?
              >Date: Fri, 5 Nov 2004 00:33:34 -0800 (PST)
              >
              >Many times when my son was small he used to ask my Dad about what it was
              >like being a soldier. Dziadek did you have a gun? Did you ever kill
              >anyone? My Dad would be silent not knowing how to answer....and in his
              >mind, momentarily, he went into a dark and private place. Two weeks ago
              >I went to visit an old army veteran and his small grandson listened to us
              >talk, and the same question was asked " Dziadek did you have a gun? Did you
              >ever kill anyone? And I recognized that same look come over the old mans
              >face and I understood it better. I think many in this situation had
              >difficulty in telling their children and granchildren what being a soldier
              >really meant.
              >
              > I wrote this poem for Rememberence Day. 2004, for Kresy members ...
              >perhaps someone experienced the same memory and might like to share this
              >with their family.
              >
              > Enjoy and Remember!
              >
              >hania
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >Dziadek, did you have a gun?
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >The old man sat in his rocker with his grandson at his feet
              >
              >As he told stories from his youth, many left incomplete.
              >
              >The young boy played with the medals, tokens from the war.
              >
              >And with childhood innocence kept wanting to hear more.
              >
              >
              >
              >�Dziadek were you a soldier? Dziadek did you have a gun?
              >
              >Dziadek, dziadek did you ever have to kill anyone?�
              >
              >
              >
              >The old man nodded and let his thoughts drift back
              >
              >To a time when his country was heavily under attack
              >
              >Instead of enjoying autumn leaves and warm September nights
              >
              >He was handed a gun and volunteered to fight.
              >
              >
              >
              >Gone were his dreams of a future, love and romance
              >
              >Everyday now could be the last dance.
              >
              >He stared into the face of death and searched deep within his soul
              >
              >And asked God for answers of why this senseless toll?
              >
              >
              >
              >He had quickly become a man inside a boy
              >
              >And his youth was robbed of love and joy
              >
              >He could still hear the roar of canons that filled the air
              >
              >As naked evil spirits brought on misery and despair
              >
              >
              >
              >Broken dreams and shattered lives kaliedscoped the earthly floor
              >
              >As spirits soared amidst the smoke leaving behind the bloody war.
              >
              >He tried not to relive the sadness and the pain
              >
              >But to forget this all would mean his comrades died in vain.
              >
              >
              >
              >He felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a whisper of a long lost friend
              >
              >�I would tell the story, if your grandson to me you would lend.
              >
              >I had dreams of a family, a home, remember the stories we shared?
              >
              >But my life was taken away from me and yours was spared.�
              >
              >
              >
              >�Dziadek, dziadek did you have a gun?
              >
              >Dziadek, dziadek did you have to kill anyone?�
              >
              >
              >
              >Looking down into the eyes of his grandson it all became very clear,
              >
              >As he again had to become a proud soldier and wiped away a tear.
              >
              >His gnarled old hand brushed back the hair of the tiny little face
              >
              >It was his duty to teach this boy and to hide the truth would be a
              >disgrace.
              >
              >
              >
              >�Yes my child, your dziadek was a soldier and yes I had a gun
              >
              >But my war was not a game and I never shot for fun.
              >
              >When you are older you will understand the job I had to do.
              >
              >And now I understand what I gave up, I did for you.�
              >
              >
              >
              >hania kaczanowska 2004
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >---------------------------------
              >Do you Yahoo!?
              > Check out the new Yahoo! Front Page. www.yahoo.com/a

              _________________________________________________________________
              It's fast, it's easy and it's free. Get MSN Messenger today!
              http://www.msn.co.uk/messenger



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              ****************************************************************************
              KRESY-SIBERIA GROUP = RESEARCH REMEMBRANCE RECOGNITION
              "Dedicated to researching, remembering and recognising the Polish citizens
              deported, enslaved and killed by the Soviet Union during World War Two."
              ****************************************************************************
              Discussion site : http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Kresy-Siberia
              Gallery (photos, documents) : http://www.aforgottenodyssey.com/gallery/
              Film and info : http://www.AForgottenOdyssey.com
              ****************************************************************************
              To SUBSCRIBE to the discussion group, send an e-mail
              saying who you are and describing your interest in the group to:
              Kresy-Siberia-owner@yahoogroups.com
              ****************************************************************************

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            • Anne Kaczanowski
              Please do share my poem and kindly let me know of the response to these words. Bet you get one good story out of someone. It is amazing how a few words can
              Message 6 of 14 , Nov 5, 2004
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                Please do share my poem and kindly let me know of the response to these words. Bet you get one good story out of someone. It is amazing how a few words can sometimes touch a person and bring out of them a precious story that over time has become insignificant and unimportant to anyone.  I am sure most of this group can relate to my poem, as at one time or another they  were  that little child. Perhaps it will trigger a memory someone has forgotten.

                Krystyna <thymetrax@...> wrote:
                Haniu;
                Thank you for sharing this lovely poem with us. It brought so many memories to me about my childhood and my relatives who had fought in the war.
                 
                Now I work in Long Term Care and spend my days with over 100 seniors.Many of them are veterans. I like to ask you if I could share with them your poem on Rememberance day, November 11th?
                 
                Blessings
                Krystyna Styrna-Ejnesman
                 

                Helena Danielczuk <helena52@...> wrote:

                Hania what a beautiful poem and so so true. Thank you.

                You should try to get it published as it is so pertinent and needs to be
                available to a larger audience.

                hela



                Bye 4 now Hela.




                >From: Anne Kaczanowski
                >Reply-To: Kresy-Siberia@yahoogroups.com
                >To: Kresy-Siberia@yahoogroups.com
                >Subject: [Kresy-Siberia] Dziadek did you have a gun?
                >Date: Fri, 5 Nov 2004 00:33:34 -0800 (PST)
                >
                >Many times when my son was small he used to ask my Dad about what it was
                >like being a soldier. Dziadek did you have a gun? Did you ever kill
                >anyone? My Dad would be silent not knowing how to answer....and in his
                >mind, momentarily, he went into a dark and private place. Two weeks ago
                >I went to visit an old army veteran and his small grandson listened to us
                >talk, and the same question was asked " Dziadek did you have a gun? Did you
                >ever kill anyone? And I recognized that same look come over the old mans
                >face and I understood it better. I think many in this situation had
                >difficulty in telling their children and granchildren what being a soldier
                >really meant.
                >
                > I wrote this poem for Rememberence Day. 2004, for Kresy members ...
                >perhaps someone experienced the same memory and might like to share this
                >with their family.
                >
                > Enjoy and Remember!
                >
                >hania
                >
                >
                >
                >
                >
                >Dziadek, did you have a gun?
                >
                >
                >
                >
                >
                >The old man sat in his rocker with his grandson at his feet
                >
                >As he told stories from his youth, many left incomplete.
                >
                >The young boy played with the medals, tokens from the war.
                >
                >And with childhood innocence kept wanting to hear more.
                >
                >
                >
                >�Dziadek were you a soldier? Dziadek did you have a gun?
                >
                >Dziadek, dziadek did you ever have to kill anyone?�
                >
                >
                >
                >The old man nodded and let his thoughts drift back
                >
                >To a time when his country was heavily under attack
                >
                >Instead of enjoying autumn leaves and warm September nights
                >
                >He was handed a gun and volunteered to fight.
                >
                >
                >
                >Gone were his dreams of a future, love and romance
                >
                >Everyday now could be the last dance.
                >
                >He stared into the face of death and searched deep within his soul
                >
                >And asked God for answers of why this senseless toll?
                >
                >
                >
                >He had quickly become a man inside a boy
                >
                >And his youth was robbed of love and joy
                >
                >He could still hear the roar of canons that filled the air
                >
                >As naked evil spirits brought on misery and despair
                >
                >
                >
                >Broken dreams and shattered lives kaliedscoped the earthly floor
                >
                >As spirits soared amidst the smoke leaving behind the bloody war.
                >
                >He tried not to relive the sadness and the pain
                >
                >But to forget this all would mean his comrades died in vain.
                >
                >
                >
                >He felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a whisper of a long lost friend
                >
                >�I would tell the story, if your grandson to me you would lend.
                >
                >I had dreams of a family, a home, remember the stories we shared?
                >
                >But my life was taken away from me and yours was spared.�
                >
                >
                >
                >�Dziadek, dziadek did you have a gun?
                >
                >Dziadek, dziadek did you have to kill anyone?�
                >
                >
                >
                >Looking down into the eyes of his grandson it all became very clear,
                >
                >As he again had to become a proud soldier and wiped away a tear.
                >
                >His gnarled old hand brushed back the hair of the tiny little face
                >
                >It was his duty to teach this boy and to hide the truth would be a
                >disgrace.
                >
                >
                >
                >�Yes my child, your dziadek was a soldier and yes I had a gun
                >
                >But my war was not a game and I never shot for fun.
                >
                >When you are older you will understand the job I had to do.
                >
                >And now I understand what I gave up, I did for you.�
                >
                >
                >
                >hania kaczanowska 2004
                >
                >
                >
                >
                >
                >---------------------------------
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              • Krystyna
                Thank you for your very kind permission. I like to share with you the fact that many of the seniors are Polish, Russian, German, Jewish, English and Canadian
                Message 7 of 14 , Nov 5, 2004
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                  Thank you for your very kind permission.
                  I like to share with you the fact that many of the seniors are Polish, Russian, German, Jewish, English  and Canadian WWII survivors. Women who worked in munition factories while their men fought in the war.
                   
                   Some are war brides who joined their  husbands to start families. in Canada.
                   
                  We do have interesting "Reminiscing Programs". I have also started a Men's Club. I hear stories about their work on  Avro Arrow and the Mark 2.  and the first flight of the prototype flown by Chief Test Pilot, Jan Zurakowski, on March 25, 1958.
                   
                  I am a Recreation Therapist and have many friends who also followed their calling to work in therapy. If I have your permission I would also like to forward you heart wrenching poem to other Long Term Care Facilities (Nursing Homes) such as as part of personal healing process for our beloved seniors. 
                  Blessings
                  Krystyna Styrna-Ejnesman


                  Anne Kaczanowski <annekaczanowski@...> wrote:
                  Please do share my poem and kindly let me know of the response to these words. Bet you get one good story out of someone. It is amazing how a few words can sometimes touch a person and bring out of them a precious story that over time has become insignificant and unimportant to anyone.  I am sure most of this group can relate to my poem, as at one time or another they  were  that little child. Perhaps it will trigger a memory someone has forgotten.

                  Krystyna <thymetrax@...> wrote:
                  Haniu;
                  Thank you for sharing this lovely poem with us. It brought so many memories to me about my childhood and my relatives who had fought in the war.
                   
                  Now I work in Long Term Care and spend my days with over 100 seniors.Many of them are veterans. I like to ask you if I could share with them your poem on Remembrance day, November 11th?
                   
                  Blessings
                  Krystyna Styrna-Ejnesman
                   

                  Helena Danielczuk <helena52@...> wrote:

                  Hania what a beautiful poem and so so true. Thank you.

                  You should try to get it published as it is so pertinent and needs to be
                  available to a larger audience.

                  hela



                  Bye 4 now Hela.




                  >From: Anne Kaczanowski
                  >Reply-To: Kresy-Siberia@yahoogroups.com
                  >To: Kresy-Siberia@yahoogroups.com
                  >Subject: [Kresy-Siberia] Dziadek did you have a gun?
                  >Date: Fri, 5 Nov 2004 00:33:34 -0800 (PST)
                  >
                  >Many times when my son was small he used to ask my Dad about what it was
                  >like being a soldier. Dziadek did you have a gun? Did you ever kill
                  >anyone? My Dad would be silent not knowing how to answer....and in his
                  >mind, momentarily, he went into a dark and private place. Two weeks ago
                  >I went to visit an old army veteran and his small grandson listened to us
                  >talk, and the same question was asked " Dziadek did you have a gun? Did you
                  >ever kill anyone? And I recognized that same look come over the old mans
                  >face and I understood it better. I think many in this situation had
                  >difficulty in telling their children and granchildren what being a soldier
                  >really meant.
                  >
                  > I wrote this poem for Rememberence Day. 2004, for Kresy members ...
                  >perhaps someone experienced the same memory and might like to share this
                  >with their family.
                  >
                  > Enjoy and Remember!
                  >
                  >hania
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >Dziadek, did you have a gun?
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >The old man sat in his rocker with his grandson at his feet
                  >
                  >As he told stories from his youth, many left incomplete.
                  >
                  >The young boy played with the medals, tokens from the war.
                  >
                  >And with childhood innocence kept wanting to hear more.
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >�Dziadek were you a soldier? Dziadek did you have a gun?
                  >
                  >Dziadek, dziadek did you ever have to kill anyone?�
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >The old man nodded and let his thoughts drift back
                  >
                  >To a time when his country was heavily under attack
                  >
                  >Instead of enjoying autumn leaves and warm September nights
                  >
                  >He was handed a gun and volunteered to fight.
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >Gone were his dreams of a future, love and romance
                  >
                  >Everyday now could be the last dance.
                  >
                  >He stared into the face of death and searched deep within his soul
                  >
                  >And asked God for answers of why this senseless toll?
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >He had quickly become a man inside a boy
                  >
                  >And his youth was robbed of love and joy
                  >
                  >He could still hear the roar of canons that filled the air
                  >
                  >As naked evil spirits brought on misery and despair
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >Broken dreams and shattered lives kaliedscoped the earthly floor
                  >
                  >As spirits soared amidst the smoke leaving behind the bloody war.
                  >
                  >He tried not to relive the sadness and the pain
                  >
                  >But to forget this all would mean his comrades died in vain.
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >He felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a whisper of a long lost friend
                  >
                  >�I would tell the story, if your grandson to me you would lend.
                  >
                  >I had dreams of a family, a home, remember the stories we shared?
                  >
                  >But my life was taken away from me and yours was spared.�
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >�Dziadek, dziadek did you have a gun?
                  >
                  >Dziadek, dziadek did you have to kill anyone?�
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >Looking down into the eyes of his grandson it all became very clear,
                  >
                  >As he again had to become a proud soldier and wiped away a tear.
                  >
                  >His gnarled old hand brushed back the hair of the tiny little face
                  >
                  >It was his duty to teach this boy and to hide the truth would be a
                  >disgrace.
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >�Yes my child, your dziadek was a soldier and yes I had a gun
                  >
                  >But my war was not a game and I never shot for fun.
                  >
                  >When you are older you will understand the job I had to do.
                  >
                  >And now I understand what I gave up, I did for you.�
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >hania kaczanowska 2004
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  >---------------------------------
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                  Blessings
                  Krystyna
                   
                   
                   
                   


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                • Eve5J@aol.com
                  Hania - Thank you so much. A real tearjerker, again, and excellent as usual. Please tell the group about your poem from last year too. Give them the post
                  Message 8 of 14 , Nov 5, 2004
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                    Hania -
                     
                    Thank you so much.  A real tearjerker, again, and excellent as usual.  Please tell the group about your poem from last year too.  Give them the post number of the English translation please?  Some of our newer members may not have read it.
                     
                    With my very best regards,
                    Eve Jesionka Jankowicz
                    USA
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                  • Liz/Ian Halko-Carrington
                    Dear Hania, I was so very moved by your poem that even as I write this I still have chills and am fighting back tears thinking of all those men and women who
                    Message 9 of 14 , Nov 6, 2004
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                      Dear Hania,

                      I was so very moved by your poem that even as I write this I still have chills and am fighting back tears thinking of all those men and women who fought so bravely and still continue to fight. This poem needs to be published for everyone to read especially as we near Remembrance Day. Our ancestors are not the only ones who do not tell their children and grandchildren what it was like to fight for their country.

                      Does anyone know – if Hania agrees - how we can get this poem out to the world? Can we send it to newspaper editors? How would you feel about that Hania?

                       

                      Liz Halko

                      Toronto, Ontario

                    • Krys Dobrzanski
                      Droga Haniu, I share Liz s sentiments precisely, you have a great and unique talent and this should be more widely accessible. I have certainly emailed it to
                      Message 10 of 14 , Nov 6, 2004
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                        Droga Haniu, I share Liz's sentiments precisely, you have a great and unique talent and this should be more widely accessible. I have certainly emailed it to as many people as I can, both with Polish links and without, all of whom will appreciate it I'm sure.
                         
                        I thought that you might be interested in my husband's response to your beautiful and moving poem. Firstly, he emerged with his eyes brimming with tears and then proceeded to tell me his own childhood experience of asking this same "question" of his late father, who was in the AK.
                         
                        "Father, if you were fighting in the War how come that you are alive....!?"
                         
                        "Son, I just flexed my muscles and the bullets bounced off me!"
                         
                        A truly modest response to an horrific and painful time.
                         
                        With kindest regards,
                        Krys

                        Ipswich, England
                         
                          
                          I wrote this poem for Rememberence Day. 2004,  for Kresy members ...
                        perhaps someone experienced the same memory and might like to share this with their family. 
                         
                         Enjoy and Remember!
                         
                        hania 
                         
                         
                         
                         
                      • Anne Kaczanowski
                        I really have no idea how to go about getting this published..but would appreciate advice from anyone who could help me with some ideas. Liz/Ian
                        Message 11 of 14 , Nov 6, 2004
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                          I really have no idea how to go about getting this published..but would appreciate advice from anyone who could help me with some ideas.

                          Liz/Ian Halko-Carrington <halko.carrington@...> wrote:

                          Dear Hania,

                          I was so very moved by your poem that even as I write this I still have chills and am fighting back tears thinking of all those men and women who fought so bravely and still continue to fight. This poem needs to be published for everyone to read especially as we near Remembrance Day. Our ancestors are not the only ones who do not tell their children and grandchildren what it was like to fight for their country.

                          Does anyone know � if Hania agrees - how we can get this poem out to the world? Can we send it to newspaper editors? How would you feel about that Hania?

                           

                          Liz Halko

                          Toronto, Ontario



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                        • Anne Kaczanowski
                          I loved your husband s story from his dad. This the kind of stuff I was hoping to hear. My dad was actually quite small in the army, and when I mentioned this
                          Message 12 of 14 , Nov 6, 2004
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                            I loved your husband's story from his dad.  This the kind of stuff I was hoping to hear. My dad was actually quite small in the army, and when I mentioned this to someone, they said " Don't knock his size...because a smaller target is harder to hit.

                            Krys Dobrzanski <krysdobrzanski@...>
                            wrote:
                            Droga Haniu, I share Liz's sentiments precisely, you have a great and unique talent and this should be more widely accessible. I have certainly emailed it to as many people as I can, both with Polish links and without, all of whom will appreciate it I'm sure.
                             
                            I thought that you might be interested in my husband's response to your beautiful and moving poem. Firstly, he emerged with his eyes brimming with tears and then proceeded to tell me his own childhood experience of asking this same "question" of his late father, who was in the AK.
                             
                            "Father, if you were fighting in the War how come that you are alive....!?"
                             
                            "Son, I just flexed my muscles and the bullets bounced off me!"
                             
                            A truly modest response to an horrific and painful time.
                             
                            With kindest regards,
                            Krys

                            Ipswich, England
                             
                              


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                          • Sister Christine
                            Thank you for sharing such a beautiful and moving poem. I do hope that one day it will be published. Sr. Christine Ct., U.S.A. ... Do you Yahoo!? Check out
                            Message 13 of 14 , Nov 6, 2004
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                              Thank you for sharing such a beautiful and moving poem.  I do hope that one day it will be published.
                              Sr. Christine
                              Ct., U.S.A.


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                            • Dlachocki@aol.com
                              In a message dated 11/5/2004 3:33:50 AM Eastern Standard Time, annekaczanowski@yahoo.com writes: Dziadek, did you have a gun? The old man sat in his rocker
                              Message 14 of 14 , Nov 6, 2004
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                                In a message dated 11/5/2004 3:33:50 AM Eastern Standard Time, annekaczanowski@... writes:

                                Dziadek, did you have a gun?

                                 

                                 

                                The old man sat in his rocker with his grandson at his feet

                                As he told stories from his youth, many left incomplete.

                                The young boy played with the medals, tokens from the war.

                                And with childhood innocence kept wanting to hear more.

                                 

                                “Dziadek were you a soldier? Dziadek did you have a gun?

                                Dziadek, dziadek  did you ever have to kill anyone?”

                                Heniu, Thank you for posting your poem. It is just what others said,"Well done" and the foggy glasses are the best prove of it. I am a luckey dad, since my boys did not asked that question, so I am sort of saved by the bell.
                                Dezio Lachocki, Wayne, NJ , USA.
                                 
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