Exclusive for CFP: Back to Freedom – 20 Years Ago

On February 28, 1990 – I left a Communist prison

By David Dastych Sunday, February 28, 2010
In Barczewo Prison was kept the war criminal, Gauleiter of Ostpreußen - Erich Ko
ch. He died in prison in 1986.
With him the communists kept there the Solidarity and anti-communist leaders: Ad
am Michnik, Władysław Frasyniuk and Leszek Moczulski in the early 1980s.
[and David M. Dastych and Professor Jozef Szaniawski, Col. R.Kuklinski’s friend
and biographer, in the late 1980s.]
Warsaw-Poland-February 28: It is twenty years already since I left a Communist p
rison in Barczewo [nicknamed “Barczewo-Hilton”] on Wednesday morning, the last d
ay of February1990.

I knew I would be conditionally released, after my 8-year sentence was reduced t

o 5 years by a Military Tribunal in Warsaw on January 2, 1990. But I didn’t know
exactly when I would be set free. On that ordinary weekday, my lawyer D. Krasow
ski, Esq., came to see me and he told me I would be called to a Military Tribuna
l hearing in Barczewo Penitentiary. I wasn’t sure they would release me on that
day. But the hearing lasted only 15 minutes, and I was told I was to be released
on conditional terms immediately. Then, I had to go to a prison wardrobe to dre
ss up and to my cell in a Special Ward to pick up my things. I asked for a permi
ssion to visit some of the co-prisoners to give them some things and to take let
ters from them. Then I said good-bye to the “fellow-criminals” I knew and I coll
ected some cash from a depository, before leaving the prison for good.
It was a bright, sunny day and, at first, I went to a nearby chapel to meet a mo
nk, who helped me in my prison years. He wasn’t there, so I left some money in t
he chapel, I prayed briefly and I went out to take my place in my lawyer’s car.
There were no cell phones at that time in Poland. But I didn’t want to call my f
amily from a post office: my sudden come-back should be a surprise to them.
I asked the lawyer to keep me company in visiting the beautiful small town of Ba
rczewo, situated at a lake. When in prison, I never had a chance to see it, the
only view from my cell was of some trees and a high prison wall. That prison was
located in a former monastery. I took out my cash and I went to a store to buy
a white shirt and a tie. To my great surprise, they were quite expensive. For se
veral years I had no idea how much Polish money was worth, as there had been a b
ig inflation.
After a peaceful regime change in Poland and a victory of “Solidarity” in the se
mi-free elections of June 4,1989, I read a lot about the economy to get prepared
for my later life.
PRISON POETRY
Some time ago, in my cell, I wrote a little “poem” about the economic situation
of Poland. In a rough English translation it runs like this:
Our Poland Today
No money, no honey
But hopes and baloney,
No sugar, no meat
But an eternal Polish wit;
No vodka, no squash
But free computers “McIntosh”;
A heap of banknotes
But no real pay –
This is our Poland today.
Like it? It wasn’t the only piece of poetry I wrote in prison. I also wrote the
lyrics to a song about “Barczewo-Hilton” and a lot of epigrams like this one (tr
anslated from Russian):
Lech Walesa in Moscow
He came to us as a guest
To sing a requiem
For dead Communism
In the name of a living “Solidarity”
In the second half of 1989, I asked the Military Court in Warsaw to grant me per
mission to correspond with family and friends in the United States. The permissi
on was granted, a unique case, as I was convicted…for spying for the C.I.A. But
the regime was over and we experienced more freedom in the special prison ward.
To make some fun, I started to write letters in Polish, English and Russian, tra
nslating the ones in the foreign languages myself. The letters were then posted
by my family. I wrote to my friend, Mr. Zygmunt “Ziggy” Broniarek, then a Washi
ngton D.C. correspondent of the chief Comparty daily “Trybuna Ludu.” Broniarek (
still alive, over 80 now) promised me to pass some of my Russian letters to Ms.
Condoleezza Rice. I invented a Russian pen-name for myself “Lev Davidovich Zek”
and I pretended to be “an unknown Russian poet,” writing from a Siberian forced
labor camp. I penned mostly short epigrams, like this one:
Gorba…Gorba
You’re a Greek Zorba
or (more seriously)
I remember the Afghan mountains,
Flames and blood of children and widows,
Bombs and missiles of Russian soldiers;
Death all around…
But we aren’t the aggressors, are we?
I am not sure Condi Rice received my “poems” as Ziggy promised to pass them to h
er. But a chance to write letters to American friends gave me a “lift to heaven”
and a lot of joy. On August 1,1989, an American professor of law from Washingto
n D.C. visited me in Barczewo Prison and I handed him a report about my case and
about the conditions in Polish prisons. In 1989, there were many strikes and ev
en riots in prisons. In Barczewo Prison, the criminals organized a strike and ch
ose me as their “legal counsel.” That was too much for the Prison Warden and, of
course, he refused. I enjoyed some respect among the co-prisoners, mostly ordin
ary criminals with long-time sentences, up to 25 years. The policy of that time
was to put dangerous criminals into the cells of “political” prisoners, or “enem
ies of the state” like me, an alleged C.I.A. spy. I observed them carefully, as
some of them were secret informers. I learned from them some skills and a prison
slang, and even I practiced karate with one young bandit. When in Warsaw Centra
l Jail, I helped some talented prisoners (painters, wood-carvers etc.). They off
ered me their drawings, which I still keep at home (perhaps I should scan some).
A COME BACK
As we drove back to Warsaw, my lawyer couldn’t drink alcohol but I had some cogn
ac with coffee that made me happy and jovial. Poor Mr. Krasowski had to listen
to my prison stories, jokes and songs.
We came to my family house in the late afternoon. My old Mother almost had a hea
rt-attack of joy! I had to stay with her and talk to her until she went to sleep
. Then my Khmer girl-friend came to see me with her two sons and we were all too
happy. The whole night, I drank Suntory Whiskey with my Japanese brother-in-law
, Teruo, who was very curious about my experience. He knew I was also made a “Ja
panese spy” by the secret police, which was a big lie and provocation. My sister
Halina made some good food, Polish and Japanese, and the night passed quickly.
The next morning, on March 1, 1990, I woke up ready to perform my “normal” priso
n chores. For some time yet, I couldn’t get accustomed to freedom. I went to a P
olice (militia) station to register as a conditionally released “criminal” and t
hen I visited a passport office and I asked for a Polish passport, of which I wa
s deprived for 14 years by the Communist special services. It was a great fun: I
had to fill in a passport form and I wrote with certain pride when and for what
for I was convicted. To my great surprise, I received my passport in just a few
days.
FINDING A HOME
In 1988, when I was imprisoned, I divorced my wife to protect her and my two chi
ldren – Olaf (son) and Natalia (daughter). My wife, who was a journalist and edi
tor-in-chief of a women’s weekly paper, met Raisa, the wife of Mikhail Gorbachev
, to ask for help. Nothing happened then, of course. Only one foreign country, I
srael, issued a note to the Polish Foreign Ministry inquiring about me. The U.S.
Government did nothing to protect me, therefore, later on, in Brussels, I met a
CIA diplomat to end my services for The Company. I didn’t ask for money or prot
ection or for anything else, as I worked on my own and it was a voluntary servic
e. I also wrote to the Prime Minister of Japan, dismissing an allegation that I
served to his intelligence agency (I was accused of that). He never replied but
soon I got a well-paid job with Asahi-TV as a co-producer of a documentary about
the changes in Poland. I also wrote for a big Japanese magazine about the econo
mic reforms, led by Professor L. Balcerowicz.
But I had no permanent job, no housing (I left my large apartment to the former
wife and children). I used to stay with my old Father and with my girl-friend, t
raveling often and doing some business. Soon I registered my own small enterpris
e, called “Dastych Trading Co.” and I made good use of the economic freedom in P
oland to earn money.
CELEBRATING FREEDOM IN BERLIN
My first trip abroad, after a dozen or more years, was to Berlin, already united
. I went there by plane from Warsaw, incidentally meeting on board a former jour
nalist colleague, the late Mr. M. Rakowski, who was a Prime Minister of Poland i
n the 1980s, and then the last First Secretary of the PUWP (the Communist party)
, which he “laid to rest.” We chatted in a friendly fashion, and I learned that
my letter from the Warsaw Central Prison never reached him. In Berlin I had to g
o through the fallen Wall and I installed myself in one of the expensive hotels.
From there I phoned to family and friends all over the world, from Germany to A
ustralia and the U.S.A. and I wrote many letters to politicians, MPs and other p
eople. Later on the Chancellor of Germany Helmut Kohl sent me a thank-you note v
ia the Embassy with thanks for my part in the re-unification of Germany. Well, t
his part was a tiny one, as the main thanks they owed was to Mikhail Gorbachev.
In Berlin I visited good restaurants, theaters and clubs, and also the places ne
ar the Wall, where I was earlier on the Eastern side many times, since 1961, wit
h no chance to cross over to West Berlin. That was sad.
Later on I also went to Moscow, where nobody wanted to arrest me but friends acc
epted me with typical Russian cordiality and a lot of vodka. I also became a tra
vel-guide to tour Europe, and then Asia on low cost. In the 1990s, I went to Chi
na to trade and this was a really good choice. I was also in Israel, meeting my
close friend, a nuclear physicist, the late Mr. Shalheveth Freier (also a former
 intelligence operative). By following his advice, I started a multi-year operat
ion monitoring illegal trafficking in nuclear materials and weapons…But that is
a separate story to tell at another time.
Let me finish this article with a piece of poetry from prison. It’s about East G
ermany in 1989:
Go West Young Man
(East German style)
Here we go again
To the West on Freedom Train,
By Walesa we’ve been told
How to jump over the Wall;
Thanks to Poland, now we know
How to be brave and where to go;
Good-bye Genosse Honecker!
In the West we will live much better
And when all of us get invited
Germany will be re-united.
—[October 1989)
Oh. I have found some nice aphorisms yet (also from my prison notes):
Socialism is the road to Communism that means – to nowhere.
Capitalism is what remains on the bottom of socialism, after its reform.
The law of the Left is lawlessness; the law of the Right is dictatorship;The law
of the Middle is – probably – a democracy.
The criminal code in socialism: a citizen has the right to be convicted.
Lech Walesa is a Polish variant of Julius Caesar: “Veni, vidi, arrange”
Three ways out of the economic crisis:
A liberal way – take care of yourself,
A socialist way – the state will help you if you help yourself,
A charitable way – free soup!
Generations pass by and prisons remain!
© David Dastych, 2010

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David Dastych Bio

David Dastych Most recent columns
David Dastych, 67 is a veteran journalist, writing for Polish and foreign media.
He was also a businessman and consultant to foreign business, one time an assoc
iate director of Japan External Trade Organization (JETRO) in Poland. Now he own
s and operates an international media agency in Warsaw (David’s Media Agency), s
erving foreign authors and providing PR services to business companies.
David can be reached at: davids@aster.pl
Other articles by David Dastych
Operation Housecall, National Anthem
Geography of the Recession
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