„Aniela Błońska, beloved younger sister of the Błoński brothers, had grown her hair since childhood and was always proud of her thick golden braid, even when she was already a mother of five children and the sixth grew in her belly…
Hidden in the crown of an old oak tree, Wacek saw the Ukrainians tie the tearful Aniela to a tree branch by this long braid. What Wacek saw exceeded the wildest imaginations about how bestial human behavior can be…
He must have passed out because he couldn't remember anything later. When he woke up, he was lying in bed in some strange house. They said something to him, cried and prayed out loud. He didn't understand anything. He couldn't make his voice. And it was supposed to remain this way forever”…

source: „Marusia colony – Sylwia Zientek”; in: „Creative Life”, in: 1st February 2017 — web page: www.kreatywnezycie.pl [accessible: 2017.02.01]

— „My mother, six‑year‑old Halinka, participated in many mass funerals. After all, they tried to bury these bodies, these torsos, their arms, legs, heads, the remains of torn children. People gathered, because in this way they gave each other strength, encouraged each other, exchanged information about where to hide, who would help, how to run away. By uniting and gathering, they tried to figure out how to act. These funerals were a kind of meeting. Terrible meetings, because these mutilated bodies were exposed to the public. And mom saw it all. One can only imagine what such a girl felt, how it affected her psyche. On the one hand, crying, lamentation, tragedy, on the other hand, a terrible fear of what will happen. After all, all those alive were afraid that in a moment, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, the Ukrainians would come and that they would die, that their dismembered bodies would lie on the ground. There was nowhere to run. Ukrainian villages all around. They were trapped. The summer of 1943 left a mark on my mother's entire life. And indirectly, on my life. Already then, my mother began to wet herself at night, scream in her sleep, have some fears. Someone pointed out to my grandmother that the baby shouldn't be looking at all of this. And grandmother probably did not realize how such experiences could affect a little girl. I know that these childhood pictures haunted my mother until the end of her life, she never forgot them, she was never able to remove them from her memory  […]
She talked about bodies, coffins and funerals. About my grandfather's sister and her children, who was a beautiful woman with a very long, thick braid, of which she was especially proud… One day my grandfather's sister was captured by the Ukrainians. They tied her by this braid to a tree. The children, and there were probably six of them, looked at everything first. They saw mom being raped. And then she watched these children be torn to pieces one by one, killed in the most brutal way  […]
My grandfather [saw it]. He saw everything. From hiding. He knew that if he revealed himself, they would murder him too. He knew he had to save himself, his wife and children, including my mother. The colony of Marusia, the settlement where they lived, could be attacked at any moment. They took refuge in the church in Mychlin [approx. 2 km from the colony of Marusia]”…
— It was the Ukrainian Insurgent Army
— „I know. My mother used to say a gang or simply Ukrainians. And this gang could be neighbors. They came, one had a pitchfork, the other an ax, a third hammer for churning animals, or an ax. They entered Polish homes, killed small children by throwing them at the wall, tearing larger ones, and murdering adults in various ways. These are scenes like from a medieval carnage. Then Ukrainian women came in, looted the interior, and in the end everything was set on fire. This was the pattern of action in almost all Polish villages in Volhynia”.

source: Rigamonti Magdalena, „I just sensed hostility in Volhynia”, interview with Sylwia Zientek, author of „Marusia colony” book; in: portal: dziennik.pl, in: 8 lipca 2018 — web page: wiadomosci.dziennik.pl [accessible: 2018.07.08]