The Provisional Government reaches Warsaw My welcome from exile My mother is alive Maniac Gomułka Potsdam bickering Molotov grabs all
THE Provisional Government of National Unity flew to Warsaw in (appropriately enough) Russian transport planes on June 27, 1945.
We landed at Okęcie airport outside the capital. My heart swelled at the sight of countless thousands of Poles who had come to the airfield to see this curious mixture of utter strangers and old friends who were to govern them until that happy day when, under the terms of Yalta, they could elect men and women of their own choice in a free and unfettered election.
It was difficult to keep from weeping. For on those faces was the indescribable nobility of a people who remained unconquered in a conquered land, who remained free in bondage. I knew so many of them, and they called my