If you want to wind up a Pole of a certain age, there is no more reliable means than quoting the old myth about Polish lancers charging at German panzer divisions in the second world war.
The story feeds a stereotype about Polish men being hopelessly romantic, hopelessly moustachioed idiots who would actually gallop their horses at big steel tanks.
Even this newspaper fell into the trap less than two years ago, when a columnist described the mythical charge as "the most romantic and idiotic act of suicide of modern war". We had to append a speedy correction admitting that we had "repeated a myth of the second world war, fostered by Nazi propagandists".
The most likely origin of the legend is a skirmish at the Pomeranian village of Krojanty on the first day of the German invasion, 1 September 1939. Polish lancers, whose units had still not been motorised, did indeed charge a Wehrmacht infantry battalion but were forced to retreat under heavy machine gun fire. By the time German and Italian war correspondents got there, some tanks had arrived and they joined the dots themselves.
The story was used first by the Nazi propaganda machine and then by its Soviet counterpart, to portray Polish officers (who were killed by Stalin en masse the next year) as absurdly careless about the lives of their troops.
What is most irritating to Poles about this particular fable is that it trivialises the Polish contribution to the allied war effort, reducing it to a single moment of whimsy.
In fact, as the war historian and Times columnist Ben Macintyre recently wrote: "The Polish contribution to allied victory in the Second World War was extraordinary, perhaps even decisive, but for many years it was disgracefully played down, obscured by the politics of the Cold War."
Macintyre points out that one in 12 Battle of Britain pilots was a Pole, and some 250,000 Polish troops served with British forces, while a huge, largely forgotten role was also played by the Polish resistance.
The Home Army, as it was called, is thought to have been about 400,000-strong, and inflicted serious damage on German occupying forces throughout the war. The French resistance only grew to that size after D-Day, when the tide had already turned. But while the French were able to lead the liberation parade into Paris, the Polish Home Army and its memory were crushed by the country's new Soviet occupiers, with western acquiescence.
To appease Stalin, the Poles were not even invited to Britain's 1946 victory parade. No wonder our stories of futile cavalry charges drive them crazy. Julian Borger