Poland betrayed, army disbanded and lost.
Enslaved in Russia, snow, death, misery and dispair.
Anders, his army – the Polish Army reborn.
Long suffering march across Russia to freedom,
then escape to the Middle East, repair, restore, rejoice.
Anders Army joins the British 8th,
to Italy to fight for others.
To Italy for the wine, the women, the warmth….
to find nothing but mud, mud, mud!
But who will fight for Poland.
Monte Cassino, the name says it all.
Stuck in a tank, smelly and cramped.
The noise, the fear, the death,
and nothing but mud, mud, mud!
So many lost!
To Rome, to Rome, march on to Rome.
More fighting, more loss, more sorrow.
Finally victory, but where do we go.
Italy has been freed,
but Poland has been lost.
So many soldiers with nowhere to go.
To Naples for ship berths to some other land.
For my Grandfather UK became his new home,
a wife, two daughters and a new life.
But never to Poland again.
“For our freedom and yours
we soldiers of Poland
our soul to God
our life to the soil of Italy
our hearts to Poland”
– written on the Polish memorial on point 593
which overlooks Monte Cassino Abbey.