Our mother Janina Matiasz  and grandmother Katarzyna Matiasz  lived in Słowita which is a small settlement near the city of Lvov. Mother was a teacher and worked in the nearby village of Wyżniany. When war broke out, trying to escape the forces of the Soviet Union as they gradually too over Poland, both mother and grandmother were caught and deported to Austria.  Our father, Antoni Sitek, came from Komorow a small village near Mikstat. He had a garage business with a partner in Warsaw.  When war broke out in 1939 he joined the Polish resistance and took part in the Warsaw uprising at the end of which he was taken prisoner and detained in a P.O.W. camp from which he escaped  and ended up in Austria. Our parents met and married in Salzburg  only to be separated as Dad, having joined the Polish army, was assigned to the Red cross and travelled by naval ship arriving in Liverpool on the 16th Sept. 1947. Mum and granny travelled by train to France and then sailed from Calais to Dover. They were reunited in the Polish camp at Doddington in Cheshire.

Other buildings were nissen huts made from corrugated steel. The largest one was used as a cinema  showing a different film  every week and having a stage that was also used for staging shows and national events like the 3rd of May  The other nissen huts were used as a  nursery and school, a dance hall, and a club house with a snooker room at one end and a television room at the other. In the early years there was a communal cookhouse but later people cooked for themselves in their huts. The camp Church was located in one of the barracks, the only  difference being that the windows were fitted with stained glass and there was no heating. Standing next to the church was a wooden tower which housed the Church bell. Although there was a church on the camp there was no cemetery. The people from  the camp where buried in a cemetery at nearby Wybunbury, a village about three miles away.

It always seemed to me that everyone living in the camp attended every  funeral that took place at the camp making their way to Wybunbury cemetery by whatever means they could. Some even walked there and back. The tallest building on the camp was a water tower which was in a field between camp 1 and the A51 road. It was built with brick and had a large steel water tank on top. We had a grocery and general provisions shop and it was run by an ex-policeman from Birmingham called Percy Walley and his wife. They also had a shop in Crewe on West Street and they lived in a flat above that shop. Mr.& Mrs. Walley ran the camp shop right up until the camp closed but even after Doddington camp closed Mr. Walley still used to deliver Polish produce to people living in the Crewe area. I remember Percy Walley as a very pleasant character who had picked up a lot of the Polish language over his time in Doddington

The camp was one of many  National Assistance Board camps but the day to day administration and general running of the camp was the responsibility of Mr. Tadeusz Laganowski His British counterpart was a man called Frank Elliot. Mr. Laganowski had been a Captain in the Polish Army and  commanded Polish troops in the battle at Monte Cassino.  Dad was  employed by the Assistance Board as the camp electrician.  Mum worked in the nursery with Irena Trembaluk, Janina Kus and Janina Dzuban plus a few others the names of whom I cannot remember. I attended the school at the camp before moving to Bridgemere primary school which was about three miles away.  While at the Polish school  I remember Mr Jan Czerski who taught us geography among other subjects. We had  English lessons at the camp school but I  learned more from watching T.V. programmes such as Rin Tin Tin and Flash Gordon.

When we moved into a semi-detached house in Crewe with running hot and cold water and a coal fire in the living room, nobody missed the little hut we left behind in Doddington. But now I look back on those days and remember them with fondness and I cherish those childhood memories of a happy and carefree life.

ROMAN'S MEMORIES

As a child who had grown up in Doddington DP Polish Camp, my recollections are of a wonderful time in a picturesque setting with children of similar age, culture and outlook.  As an adult and researching my roots, I have learnt that reality, from the parent’s perspective, was quite different. My story has two distinct branches so readers, including today’s migrants, need an understanding of the context to fully appreciate the conditions.

Academia) attached to the special events in the year such as 3^rd May and 11th November.  At Christmas we dressed up and paraded  around the camp carol singing , took part in plays and on St. Nicolas day (6th December) we all received presents. On these occasions dad played violin alongside "Pan" Mr. Regula on accordion providing the music whilst Mum organised and sang in the choir.  Boys and girls belonged to scout troupes that were very active, I was a bit too young but my brother George was a scout. There were two lakes near the camp, Doddington and Blackmere, where my love of fishing must have emanated from. In the evening my father along with a number of people held a card school where great political debates took place, including the occasional arguments.

From my perspective, life was good however there were occasions where my parents  were discussing unfortunate circumstances such a suicides and deaths in the community.  The hardships evident in the adult community were shielded from us. In summary my recollection of life at the camp from my young perspective was one of adult camaraderie, national pride, hard work, music and song, deep seated faith, laughter, support and determination.  It is only now in researching my roots that I wished I had listed intently to the stories and tales my parents tried to relay to me.

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