The cemetery is full. Adjacent streets and yards are all packed with crowds. In front of the grave, surrounded by representatives of the authorities and the clergy, there are the closest relatives of the murdered. You can hear crying and wailing.
National banners lean over the open graves, and Polish eagles cover them with their wings. The bells don’t toll in complaint to heaven, the bells stolen from Polish churches by the invaders, but all Polish hearts are beating today in unison in memory of those who died for the holy cause of the freedom of the Polish people, for freedom and for social justice. Above the holy remains of martyrs stand today representatives of the Polish army, representatives of the government, the government and the justice that will mete out punishment for the crimes the world has never known before.
You can hear the lament all around for those who are gone, who were killed by the enemy. The pain is throttling, so excruciating, hitherto unknown to humanity.
And man asks why did it happen? They died because they were Poles, they died for their holy love for their land, for their love for the Polish people. And you, their close family members, be proud of their death because they gave their lives for Poland.
After soldiers fired a honorary salute, the gathered sang the national anthem and a parade of crowds before the open graves started, so that everyone could cast the last glance at the murdered. Crowds filed through the cemetery until late evening.
A description of the funeral of the Radogoszcz victims on February 18, 1945.
State Archive in Łódź, District Committee of the Polish Workers’ Party in Łódź, ref. no. 39/1029/0/5/17, pp. 45-48.