Warsaw, 3 December 1945. The investigating judge Halina Wereńko heard as a witness the person specified below. Having been advised of the criminal liability for making false declarations, the witness was sworn and testified as follows:

Name and surname Eugenia Drozdowska
Age 35 years old
Occupation laboratory assistant, currently unemployed
Education three classes of secondary school, laboratory assistant course
Place of residence Warsaw-Żoliborz, Słowackiego Street 20, flat 20

During the Warsaw Uprising, in the second half of August 1944 (I don’t remember the exact date), my 14-year-old son, Lucjan Wojciech, was wounded on the arm and leg and was taken to a hospital in the building of the Ministry of Justice at Długa Street 7. His right arm was amputated, and then I took my son to the basement of a house at Franciszkańska Street 11 where I had been hiding myself.

On 1 September, a German unit in SS uniforms stormed into our house and ordered all inhabitants out. With the help of three other people I took my son on a blanket to a graphic arts school near the Security Printing Works, where the German soldiers had already driven a large group of civilians from the neighborhood. The SS men separated healthy men, women and children and placed them in a garden. The rest, that is, the sick, the old, the injured and those who were unable to walk, were called on to get into the waiting trucks which were supposed to take them to a hospital. I saw three full trucks leave, and I got into the fourth one with my wounded son. I saw that old men from the retirement home at Franciszkańska 6 were going in the same convoy. In the second half of August, when the retirement home had been bombed, its residents had been scattered in the neighborhood. They were loaded onto trucks along with me. I cannot tell how many of them there were. I saw that there were many. I heard that a chauffeur estimated the number of people taken in trucks at 2,207.

The trucks took us to a square at Okopowa Street 57, where garden patches had been made, and tomatoes and other vegetables were growing. I didn’t notice any special marks there, I was very nervous. In front of the square, at Okopowa 55 or 57, there was a house in which the German troops were barracked. The first truck from the convoy, the one in which I was being transported, stopped in front of that house and an escorting SS man talked for some time with the soldiers who were keeping guard there. What kind of troops these were, I cannot tell. When we reached our destination, we were placed in a square enclosed with a black fence. The old, the sick, and the injured sat down on the ground, so the entire square was packed with people. Then I noticed that there were only two Germans in SS uniforms in the square, both about 23–24 years old.

I would like to emphasize that the trucks had already left. I saw that the SS men were drinking a quarter of a liter of vodka each and black coffee. I approached them and asked for some black coffee for my gravely wounded son. They refused, saying, “soon you won’t need any”. While they drank vodka, they brought a finely dressed man, about 40 years old, healthy, and judging by his appearance – a Jew. They took his wristwatch and told him to lean his head on a pole [standing] in the square, and then one of the SS men shot him in the back of the head with a small caliber revolver (silent shot). I was standing some 10 meters away from the pole then. Immediately after the shot, two Jews took the corpse by the arms and legs and threw it under two haystacks. They did not speak Polish. I tried to talk to them to save my son and myself. Judging by their words, they were from Hungary. Two SS men began to call the people one by one and were then shooting them in the back of the head. The foreign Jews were throwing the corpses under the haystack. After they had executed about a half of the crowd, they executed also my son. Then I fell face-down on the other side of hay, and when I regained some control of myself I began to crawl to the paling. I went through a hole in it and entered a Jewish cemetery, and then Powązki [Catholic cemetery]. There I saw some single bodies of men. As I saw a German soldier approaching, I hid in a tomb and remained there for 20 hours. On the night of 2 September I reached Pruszków through side roads.

In February 1945, when I returned to Warsaw, I went to my son’s execution site, and where the haystacks had been, I saw traces of ashes, small unburnt bones, fragments of bones, suitcase fittings, burnt scissors, knives and pots.

At this the report was closed and read out.