Born into a family of German origin, he spoke with a strong accent until the end of his life. However, when he was taken prisoner during the Second World War, he was persuaded to go over to the side of the Third Reich. Rear Admiral Józef Unrug replied briefly: ‘On 1 September 1939, I forgot how to speak German’.

by Piotr Bejrowski

I chose Poland

The history of the Unruh/Unrug family dates back to the times of Charlemagne. In the Middle Ages, the family was divided into many branches, while some of its representatives served at the courts of Polish kings and princes, fighting on their side in several Polish-German wars. As proof of their ties to Poland, from the 16th century onwards, the von Unruhs avoided the German spelling of their surname and consistently used the Unrug form. In the 19th century, the division between Prussian and Polish representatives of the family deepened.

From that family came Józef Unrug, later a commodore of the Polish fleet. He was born in Brandenburg on 7 October 1884. His father, Thaddäus Gustav von Unruh, was 50 years old at the time. He was a major general in the Prussian Guard, but harboured a great antipathy toward his native Prussia. In order to serve in the army, he adopted the German spelling of his surname. Aware of the Polish roots of his family, he decided to bring up his sons in the Polish culture, basing on patriotic traditions. After retiring from the army in 1870, he finally broke with his Germanness, acquired an estate in Wielkopolska (Greater Poland), and settled there with his family. He was therefore not happy that his eldest son, Józef, chose a military career in the Prussian navy. He feared that the hard discipline applied would lead to his being Germanised again. He even considered disinheriting his son, who, however, was drawn to the sea. The Kaiserliche Marine of the time was not without reason considered one of the most modern and best organised in the world. Experience gained there was to pay off in the future.

Józef proved himself a gifted soldier, as evidenced by his successive promotions within the military structure. Several months after his father’s death, he graduated from the Marineakademie Kiel, and was promoted to the rank of second lieutenant. Following his promotion, he served on several cruisers and, among others, the battleship ‘Braunschweig’. During the First World War, he commanded, inter alia, a flotilla of submarines. He was also commandant of a submarine school. At that time, it was already known that the future of clashes at sea was linked to the development of submarine fleets. The time of the ‘submariners’ was yet to come.

The creator of the Polish Navy

Reborn after more than 120 years of partitions, Poland faced many problems. One of these was the building of military potential in the face of threats from hostile neighbours – war-beaten Germany and Bolshevik Russia. A navy also had to be created practically from scratch.

It was with joy that Józef received the news that Poland had regained its independence. In 1919, he reported to the Polish command, declaring his readiness to serve his homeland. His experience and acquired knowledge prevailed over his poor command of the language. To confirm his willingness to commit himself to Poland, he purchased his first floating vessel, the German steamer ‘Wotan’. The Germans refused to sell the ship to the government in Warsaw, so Unrug bought it with his own money and donated it to Poland to patrol the Baltic. It was this ship, named ORP ‘Pomorzanin’, that formed the nucleus of the nascent fleet.

He married his cousin Zofia, who bore the same surname. They had one son. In 1923, he resigned from the service, explaining his decision with health problems. The true reason was in fact a personal conflict in the army. He took care of his estate, where he made sure to introduce a number of technical innovations and improve agricultural production. However, he did not last long in premature retirement. Unrug’s career gained momentum in 1925, when he was appointed commander of the Polish fleet. He set to work energetically, organising public collections for the acquisition of modern ships and equipment. It was thanks to him that contemporary destroyers, submarines and mine-layers, as well as reconnaissance aircraft, were purchased. He also attached great importance to the training of non-commissioned officers.

The command did not give up its plans to create a powerful Navy. However, they were too ambitious for the slender budgetary possibilities of the resurgent state. Over a dozen years, however, it was possible to build a relatively strong fleet given the conditions of the time.

Lack of experience meant that some mistakes could not be avoided. However, efforts were made to learn the right lessons. For example, the Wicher-type destroyers ordered in France revealed a number of flaws during their operation, which is why new, much better and more modern destroyers, were ordered from British shipyards. Further expansion of the naval potential was hindered by the attack mounted by Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union on Poland.

On 1 September, I forgot the German language

In August 1939, a general mobilisation was announced. Unrug was entrusted with the position of Commander of the Fleet and Coastal Defence subordinate to the Commander-in-Chief, Marshal Edward Rydz-Śmigły. Unrug had no illusions and was well aware of the difference in military potentials. The enemy’s advantage was tenfold, as his well-informed intelligence told him. He knew that the Polish fleet stood no chance in a confrontation with the Germans. He therefore proposed the implementation of the ‘Peking’ plan, that is, the evacuation of three destroyers to Britain in the face of the oncoming war. The idea of withdrawing a destroyer squadron was dictated by the belief that there was a high risk of unnecessary destruction of valuable ships that could be useful in the later stages of the war. Unrug was right. The destroyers ‘Burza’, ‘Błyskawica’ and ‘Grom’ played an important role in the later battles against the aggressor.

The Polish army capitulated in successive sections, but the Hel Peninsula, very well fortified owing, among others, to Unrug’s efforts, defended itself fiercely for several weeks. It is worth mentioning that, during the fighting, he strictly adhered to international conventions and refused to torpedo unarmed ships. Its crew, cut off and encircled by the enemy from land and sea, no longer had a chance to repel the German attacks. At a briefing attended, besides Unrug, by the other commanders of the coastal defence, Commodores Stefan Frankowski and Włodzimierz Steyer, the decision to surrender was taken. The crew capitulated on 2 October 1939.

It was the Polish Coast that was one of the longest-held points of resistance during the ongoing attack from the stronger enemy and the longest-held fortress. When inspecting the occupied areas, the Germans made no secret of their surprise that such fierce resistance was put up by such a small group of defenders. The surrender meant that the war was over for Unrug, and he himself was sent to successive Oflags, where he stayed until the end of the war.

Apparently, upon the personal recommendation of Admiral Karl Dönitz, the Germans attempted to convince Unrug to return to the ranks of the Kriegsmarine. He was tempted by high positions, offering, among other things, the promotion to admiral. All he had to do was renounce Poland.

The recruitment of a Polish commodore would have been a great propaganda success for the Third Reich and could have undermined Polish morale. To this end, it was…. his cousin Major General Walter von Unruh who was sent to a prisoner-of-war camp. The German officer greeted Józef in his own language, to which the latter replied in French. Confused, Unruh asked the reason. ‘On 1 September I forgot how to speak German. I am a Pole and a Polish officer,’ he heard in reply.

And indeed, from then on in protest, he consistently communicated with the help of an interpreter when speaking to German officers, although he still spoke German better than Polish. He would not shake hands with them, and he perceived every proposal to sign the German nationality list (Urdeutsch, i.e. essentially German) as a personal insult. He refused to be transferred to camps with better conditions and preferred to stay with his sailors. When he was offered to visit his wife in her place of residence – he made it a condition that he would only agree to this if the other Polish seamen received a similar privilege. He remained true to these principles even when his wife was brought to the camp for a visit. He rejected the offer of seeing her. Towards his subordinates, he was polite, but did not allow discipline to be relaxed. Towards the Germans, he remained harsh and unforgiving until the very end. He himself was treated harshly by them and subjected to repression, even by the standards of an officer’s captivity. While deprived of liberty, he read more than four hundred English- and French-language books, none in German.

A Pole by choice who could not return to his homeland

The end of the war was approaching. On 29 April 1945, American soldiers liberated the German camp of Murnau in Bavaria, where Unrug had been staying with his sailors. The news that post-war Poland was under Soviet occupation agitated him. He had no intention of returning to a country ruled by communists or serving in a communist army. He ended up in the UK, where he took part in the demobilisation of the Polish Armed Forces. With sadness, he watched the lowering of the Polish flag on ships that were being transferred for service in the Royal Navy. After completing this mission, he himself was demobilised. However, he retained his Polish citizenship. The British offered him a pension in recognition of his services. Aware of the fate of thousands of Polish soldiers in the West, he declined the offer. As he said himself, he did not want alms from anyone. His honour did not allow him to accept it.

The dire political climate meant that he could not make full use of his military and organisational talents. After the war, this well-educated and experienced officer took on a variety of jobs, including maintaining sardine boats in Moroccan Agadir, mining manganese in the Atlas Mountains, or working as a warehouseman, lorry driver or cook’s assistant in a London restaurant. The modest earnings were not enough to support his family. He consistently refused financial support from Poles as well. In 1955, he settled in France because the climate was more favourable for his wife, who was suffering from tuberculosis. Towards the end of his life, he took up residence in a nursing home for the aged run by the Polish Humanitarian Fund in Lailly-en-Val, France. His former sub-commanders, however, organised fundraisers for their beloved commander, keeping this fact from him. They would hand the money collected over to the management of the nursing home. Had he found out about it, he would have refused to accept the support.

He was reluctant to mention the war and rarely agreed to give interviews. Instead, he devoted himself to his passions. While still in his eighties, he would take moped rides in the French countryside. Progressive cancer was making its presence felt and the commodore was growing increasingly frail.

He died in Lailly-en-Val on 28 February 1973 at the age of 88. He was buried in the chapel of the Château de Montrésor, next to the November and January Uprising insurgents who, like him, had passed away on foreign soil, far from their homeland.

Unrug had a desire to be laid to rest in free Poland, among his subordinates and comrades-in-arms. However, he refused to accept any connection with the communist government whatsoever, and demanded the full rehabilitation of his colleagues murdered during the Stalinist terror period and buried in an unknown place. They were rehabilitated after Poland regained its sovereignty. The remains of the Polish commanders sentenced to death, mentioned by the commodore, were only discovered and exhumed in 2013. Thus, the final condition he had set in his last will was fulfilled. In September 2018, the year of the centenary celebrations of Poland’s independence, he was posthumously promoted to the rank of Admiral of the Fleet.

Several months later, on 15 December 2018, his mortal remains were returned to Poland on the frigate ORP ‘Kościuszko’. Józef Unrug was laid to rest among his soldiers at Oksywie in Gdynia. Just as was his wish expressed in his last will and testament.

Author: Piotr Bejrowski
Translation: Mikołaj Sekrecki