The ruins of a Russian Orthodox monastery, 1939: paint peels from the walls, light filters in from the cracks in the ceiling, cigarette smoke whirls through the air. Primitive wooden camp beds are stacked up high, one on top of the other, for the monastery has been turned into a prison. The prisoners, soldiers in khaki-brown wool uniforms and black boots, are gathered in a large group. Craning their heads forward, they listen to their commanding officer make a speech.
Solemn and tired, he does not ask them to fight. He asks them to survive.
“Gentlemen,” says the general, “you must endure. Without you, there will be no free Poland.”
The scene ends. The audience—at least the audience in the Warsaw theater where I watched the film—sighs, rustles, collectively draws its breath. Those watching know, as they were meant to know, that the soldiers, the flower of Poland’s pre-war officer corps, did not survive.
And without them, there was indeed no free Poland…
Even if you cannot access the movie, remember always its lesson:
Collectivists must always slaughter their enemies — both actual and potential — before those free men and women can rise and tell the world of the horrors that inevitably happen beyond closed borders.
Dear readers — without you, there will be no free America.