The book, The Polish patriot, is not just a memoir of war, nor is any history book. It is the true story of the path in the life of a young Polish Jewish doctor, who just began his specialization in dentistry when World War II breaks out.
The young dentist, named David, was captured by the Russians and sent to Siberia in a cattle truck clogged with many others on a long journey. In Siberia he meets the woman who would become his wife, also a refugee from Poland. They get married, and he was drafted into the Red army. Russia was attacked by Hitler, and Stalin responds. After several years in Siberia, he manages to bring his wife and her parents to Uzbekistan where their first son was born. The Russian army invades Poland, and David finds himself back in his country, as an officer. He reaches his hometown Warsaw and finds the town in ruins, he succeeds to find his aunt Eugenia, but he discovers that his whole family has been murdered. He also discovers that Poland did not really wants him back. He advanced with the Russian army into the depths of Poland, fought the Germans retreating till his arrival in Berlin. But his war has only just begun, he settles in the city of Stettin and brings his family from Uzbekistan, they discover another Poland, an even more anti-Semitic Poland. His wife and his family leave for Israel; he is the only one left, works in a hospital and falls in love with a Polish girl. He sees the masses, demonstrating in the streets, screaming ‘Jews, go to Palestine, we do not want you to here’ and the reality has changed, it’s not the Poland he loved, where he and his parents and grandparents were born. Their blood soaks the soil and the air is full of hatred. He decides to leave and follow his family. This is the true story of Dr. David Nachimson, written by his son Uri, a few years after his father’s death.
Fragment of the book:
There was a Russian unit not far from us and their commander was a young man about twenty-five years old, enormous, with wild hair who always walked with an open shirt. He was actually the son of a peasant from one of the kolkhoz and he terrorized the residents in the suburbs. One day, he entered the building of our makeshift hospital and his eye caught a young German nurse.
He went over to her and asked, “What is your name?”
“I do not understand,” she replied in German.
“Ah. Are you a German whore?”
“I do not understand what you are saying.”
“I am Mikhail Ivanovich, and you?”
He suddenly grabbed her by the hair and dragged her into a nearby room. She was in shock and did not scream. I was in a room treating a soldier with a shattered jaw, when two German nurses came running into the room screaming, “Save her from that oversized, muscular Russian, please.”
I did not understand what they were shouting but it was obvious they were excited by what was happening. They led me to the room where the Russian commander had taken the German girl. I knew
that something was happening inside because I heard noises and crying. I opened the door and saw the enormous animal-like commander bending over the German girl who was lying on the table. He was gripping her by her throat while his pants were rolled down to his knees. He turned to me and with a broad smile said, “Let’s take turns. Wait until I am done.”
I walked out of the room and left them alone and dragged the German girls along with me. I did not want to provoke him, as he easily could shoot me. Besides, I thought to myself, why should I risk my life for a German, whose country brought about this war and distanced me from my family for six years, about whom I know nothing concerning what has happened to them.
I ordered the Germans to leave that floor and go upstairs until things calmed down. After the Russian officer left, two of his comrades went in. I went into the treatment room and remained there until they left the building. I knew that they would return. That evening, I called all five German girls together and ordered them to leave the building. Thus, in the darkness of the night, the Germans slipped away and disappeared.
The next day, the Russian officer and his comrades came by for another round. I informed them that the Germans fled during the night. He became so angry that he turned over the reception desk and kicked a stretcher that was lying on the floor beside him.
He did not believe me, so he and his soldiers made rounds of all the rooms on every floor. As they were coming down the stairs, the officer gave me an angry look and said, “I’ll be back. I do not understand how Jews can defend German whores.” He spat the ground, turned around and left.