WARSAW, Oct. 15.--Thousands of fugitives crowd the city. They come from
all parts of Poland, but principally from the frontier towns and
villages which the Germans have been ravaging for over six weeks.
It rends one's heart to hear of the sufferings of these poor refugees,
who are mostly Jews, but with a considerable sprinkling of Poles and
Lithuanians. Every available hall and every empty warehouse is filled
with them. They must have shelter and food, and Warsaw has risen
heroically to the task of providing them with these necessities. Yet how
they suffer and what a struggle is theirs for bare existence!
My first visit was to the largest hall in Warsaw, called the Swiss
Valley, where the large Philharmonic concerts are usually held and which
in ordinary times is the gathering place of society. It is now converted
into a refuge for 600 or 700 homeless fugitives, who have left their all
behind them and fled in terror, frequently on foot, for many miles, and
carrying their possessions on their backs. The majority are old men,
women, and children. In the babel of voices are frequently heard pitiful
cries of poorly fed children, shrieks of more lusty ones, and groans and
wailings of mothers who still seem stunned and stupefied by their
frightful experiences.
Dinner was being served when I arrived. At several tables sat women,
many with babies in arms, and children, while men were being served in
one of the large corridors.
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