Medicine on the move.

behind the Pechora river, it seemed like a dream, totally divorced from reality. I was one of the first in the hospital to whom this historic message was delivered. I was called to the KGB office in the hospital, where the officer in charge proclaimed my freedom in a ceremonial way. He suggested that I remain in Russia as a free doctor; I would be offered a good position owing to my experience and fluent Russian. I could settle down to start a new life. The officer warned me that north Russia was the safest place at that time as Russia had just joined the war against the Nazis. I expressed my thanks and explained that my parents were in Yoshkar Ola and my duty was to find them, and that I would look for a job in a hospital to be near enough to help. The officer shook hands with me and wished me every success. I was soon on my way to Tockoye to join the new Polish army, which was assemblingthere. I subsequently served with this body in Uzbekistan, Iran, Iraq, Palestine, Kenya, and Egypt. It was while in Egypt in April 1946 that I received news from my parents, who had returned to Poland from exile in Russia, that my wife, Zosia, had died in the Belzec concentration camp. Having now no reason to return to Poland, I resolved to settle in Britain and landed at Southampton from the hospital ship El Nil on 24 November 1947. I have lived in Britain ever since. Recently I received an invitation to visit the Collegium Novum in Cracow to receive an honorary degree. In view of the improving political climate there I may well go despite the strong emotions that such a visit to my native country would generate even now, nearly 50 years after I last set foot there.