This is a follow-on from my previous post about Poland’s scars of war.
Every morning I walk down my road, turn the corner at the end and head down Łobzowska Street. As I turn that corner I always glance across to the building on the opposite corner and wonder what happened there. Once, somebody stood on the very corner that I walk past every morning and fired a couple of dozen shots at a window across the road. I wonder why. I wonder who it was. I wonder who he was shooting at, if he found his mark, and if he lived to tell the tale? Once, probably 60 years ago, there was an incident on Łobzowska Street.
This is what the corner looks like:
This is what the building opposite looks like, including a close-up of the target area:
I have little doubt that I will never find out the details of what happened here. I assume it happened during the war. Just another brief violent episode among a hundred million other brief violent episodes. In my favorite version a fat corrupt SS officer is standing in that window, hands clasped behind his back, looking out on his conquests when a brave and foolhardy partisan pumps six rounds into him from across the street. In my least favorite version a drunken soldier wending his way home decides to loose off a few shots at the window of a girl who refused his advances. There are a million variations in between.
I look at other Krakow building in unnecessary detail on Wyspianski Unwinding