FILMING UNDER FIRE

Wairarapa Times-Age, 30 November 1942, Page 5

FILMING UNDER FIRE

POLE’S DEVOTION TO DUTY. BADLY WOUNDED IN NAVAL ACTION. This story of a Free Pole’s heroic devotion to duty was told in a 8.8. C. Radio news reel;—-Petty Officer “Stanislav'’ (a pseudonym) was a film operator on a Polish destroyer which lately formed part of an escort for a big convoy of war supplies to Russia. While filming, he received no fewer than seventeen wounds from bomb splinters, but carried on with his job. He only just escaped death, but' his right arm is permanently paralysed. His film is a valuable document of the Polish Navy, and has been shown in all the news cinemas in Britain. The last part of it, when an attacking Focke Wolfe dived into the sea, had to be cut, as the film was so blurred—that was where “Stanislav" fainted. Here is his own account of the experience, as he broadcast it: “I was ordered, as film operator, to sit on the searchlight turret, in the middle of the ship some twenty feet above the deck. I saw a fire raging on the deck of one of our ships. I saw high columns of water thrown up by enemy bombs just missing the target. I saw the guns of our destroyer belching fire —then a squadron of aircraft heading straight for us. Through the viewfinder of my camera I could see every movement. As they came nearer, I pressed the button. Spouts of water rose by our ship. Splinters rattled on the deck. I saw several wounded. The explosions grew louder and more frequent. “Suddenly, a thunderbolt —as if someone had struck me in the breast. I was covered with a hail of splinters. I felt I was choking. Blood spurted from my mouth. There was a burning pain in my right elbow. My right arm hung helplessly but' still holding the camera. In a flash I realised that if it fell on the steel deck it would be smashed to pieces and all my work lost. So I crawled along and leaned against a coil of rubber cables ... At that moment I saw a German Focke hit by our flak. I felt I must, try and film it. So with my left hand I reached for the camera, and I knelt, propping the camera against the railings. Again he pressed the button and managed to get the Focke as it dived in flames and disappeared into the sea . . . Then I remember blood from the wound in my head over the camera and the film—then everything became blurred.”