The Ukrainians deceptively gathered and murdered 22 Poles in one house. 3‑year‑old Stanisław Pawlak was killed by hitting his head against the wall; 29‑year‑old Jan Śnichowski was tied with barbed wire and stabbed with a sharp instrument.

source: Żurek Stanisław, „75th anniversary of the genocide – May 1943, Spring 1943”; in: portal: Volhynia — web page: wolyn.org [accessible: 2021.02.04]

source: Siemaszko Władysław, Siemaszko Ewa, „The genocide perpetrated by Ukrainian nationalists on the Polish population of Volhynia 1939 - 1945”, in: Warsaw 2000, p. 237

Ukrainian women also participated in the robbery. The victims were buried without coffins, in orchards. One Pole used a manger for feeding horses as a coffin. Polish farms were burnt. This town should not be confused with the town bearing the same name and also located in the district in Kostopol, but in the Berezne commune, where the Ukrainians murdered 183 people on the night of March 25–26. „It was a small estate of nine houses, the Poles themselves are remembered by Helena Dziekońska née Myczkowska. There were two villages in the same county – colonies with this name. The second of them was subordinate to the Berezne commune. On May 5, 1943, while planting potatoes, apart from himself, in Lipniki met: two sisters (their names are Andzia and Bronisława), numerous cousins as well as good friends and neighbors. After a day of hard work, the family and friends gathered for a joint dinner, during which my aunt noticed the absence of a young Ukrainian farmhand. As no one could feel safe in Ukraine at that time, it caused some anxiety. The cheerful attitude, resulting from a day–long work in the company of loved ones, unfortunately dulled the caution and the whole team went to a well–deserved rest without anxiety. Grandfather and two cousins, as the youngest, had a place to sleep outside the overcrowded house. They were to spend the May night in a straw stack in the yard. Tired, they fell asleep before nightfall. Their sleep did not last long, however. Soon the grandfather was awakened by the deafening rattling sound of machine guns. According to the accounts of the public living in the village of Kamienna Góra connected with Lipniki, an approximately three hundred–strong unit of black–clad UP men suddenly appeared in front of the house. First, they shot at the façade of the building and then stormed inside. They shot everyone, regardless of gender and age. In fact, only one friend of all those inside the house managed to escape from there alive. Harmlessly shot from the machine, he pretended to fall, desperately slipping under one of the beds. When the Ukrainians left the house, breaking the shutters, he jumped out of the closed window and then, running as fast as he could, disappeared into the darkness. Years later, he met my grandfather in Lower Silesia. Then he had the opportunity to give him an account of what was happening inside the cottage. As he said, the entire floor of the house in Lipniki was drowned in blood. Meanwhile, my grandfather and his two cousins, praying for good luck, carefully withdrew from the place of execution. Apparently, they ran all the way back to Kostopol. The trauma that had to accompany them was shocking and, as it turned out later, it was to accompany them for the rest of their lives. It is hard to imagine how much that hell left them. The death of two sisters orphaned many children, who were later looked after by the rest of the family. In Lipniki, where my family lived, on May 5, 1943, 16 people died”.

source: Żurek Stanisław, „75th anniversary of the genocide – May 1943, Spring 1943”; in: portal: Volhynia — web page: wolyn.org [accessible: 2021.02.04]

source: Trojanowski Wojciech, „How I led my grandfather to heaven”; in: portal: Volhynia — web page: wolyn.org [accessible: 2021.04.11]

And the torment road began, Ukrainian gangs were on the prowl. Rumors began to come that they were Friday, that is, that they would attack five on one family. It was terrifying in the city. I was afraid. On May 5, in the year 43, my husband went to our house as usual. My parents lived next door. They weren't going anywhere. Father repeated that he owed nothing to anyone, that they had something to murder him for. The requests did not help. He said I'm staying. My husband went to help with planting potatoes. My sister's daughter, Halina Łoś, a 17‑year‑old girl, went with my husband to help with planting potatoes for my grandparents. It was down to the evening, and it was a small estate of nine houses, all Poles. They were called Lipniki Kostopolskie  […] Now I am going back to what happened after the potatoes were planted. They decided not to come back to town because it was dangerous. A bit through the forest. They decided to spend the night in the forest. Hide somewhere in the bushes. In the middle of this estate there lived one named Łoś Stanisław. there the older ones came, and the younger ones were on guard. And when they were going to go to the forest, my brother Adam and my husband and my husband's brother Władysław and my niece Halina, and she was saying I will go get Helenka Łosiów, let her go with us to the forest. She was already in bed, but Halina asked her to get up and go to the forest and let her be persuaded, go to the forest. And my parents also came there because the guard went there, then at those Łosiów where they used to go. And eleven o'clock before midnight, the Ukrainians let them know. They started to leave the forest, some surrounded the house, where they were gathered, and others moved around the houses and gardens where they led whom they encountered to that house. They told them to lie down on the floor and bring the farmer food, they comforted that they would not kill if they were full, they ordered the host to lie down on the bed, because there was no room on the floor. And one boy was called Paweł Jucewicz, he ran to inform his mother that a gang was approaching. I don't know how old he was. I knew him, maybe fourteen, and I knew his parents too. His father was dead then, so they caught him in the street and took him there too. He was lying on the floor next to the bed on which the host was lying, they started firing single pistols or rifles, I don't know anymore. The boy slipped under the bed, they noticed they were shooting but they missed. They went out into the yard, poured gasoline over the building and lit it. The boy was conscious and courageous enough, he climbed out of the bed and started running away towards the river. They saw the shots but they missed. It was a small river overgrown with bushes, the boy stayed until the morning when those who came out of the forest to see what was going on. The boy's mother also sat somewhere in the orchard where a lot of currant bushes grew, and his 16‑year‑old sister Ania ran away through the window to the garden and they did not find her so the whole family was lucky. That's when my parents died. My despair knew no bounds, I was afraid for children who were so small that they did not realize what might happen to them in the coming days. We decided to go somewhere. But where? That's when my parents died. My despair knew no bounds, I was afraid for children who were so small that they did not realize what might happen to them in the coming days. We decided to go somewhere. But where? That's when my parents died. My despair knew no bounds, I was afraid for children who were so small that they did not realize what might happen to them in the coming days. We decided to go somewhere. But where?

source: Żurek Stanisław, „75th anniversary of the genocide – May 1943, Spring 1943”; in: portal: Volhynia — web page: wolyn.org [accessible: 2021.02.04]

source: Dziekońska Helena nee Myczkowska, „Diary”, comp. Sebastian Dziekoński, Świnoujście; in: portal: Volhynia pages – found and inserted: Bogusław Szarwiło — web page: free.of.pl [accessible: 2021.04.11]