OP, if you are writing about Poland during World War II (or former Polish resistance fighters after the war), I cannot recommend highly enough Halik Kochanski's book The Eagle Unbowed: Poland and the Poles in the Second World War. It's the best, most effective, and most compelling-reading book to grapple with the really tough history, historiography, and modern politics of the Polish experience(s)--Christian and Jewish, in and out of Poland, under the Nazis and the Soviets--in WW2. Seriously, it's a genuinely good read in addition to being excellent history.
That said:
Kochanski of course covers Operation Barbarossa from the Polish perspective. She notes a few things that are worth considering:
After the Germans consolidated their hold on all of Poland, there was a month or so gap where things settled into a 'new normal,' maintaining the local Polish shell administrations. This was over by August, and the situation for Christians and especially for Polish Jews deteriorated rapidly.
Again--Kochanski's book is fantastic; I really hope you'll check it out!
I don't have any source that would state it certainly but I think it would be reasonable. There's a book by Miron Białoszewski "Diary from Warsaw Uprising", so it isn't 1941, but it is said there that Polish civilians, so there aren't resistance fighters, celebrated every more serious attack towards Nazis. There you go with a random quote in Polish: A co z frontem? Sowieckim - tak się wtedy mówiło. (...) Więc chyba z 9 na 10 września —pierwszy nalot na niemieckie dzielnice. Zrzucanie lampionów; tych, co tak się kołysały i oświetlały długo, długo wszystko, że można było igłę znaleźć na ziemi (...) Pamiętam huki. I błyski. Wszystko to blisko nas. (...) Aż wylecieliśmy na ulicę z radości.
Aaand there goes my kinda weak translation since Miron Białoszewski uses very weird language (that's also a reason why I skipped some parts, there were unnecessary to get my point). So what about the front? So it was, I think, on the night between 9 and 10 of October – first bombing on german districts. Throwing off lanterns [Miron calls everything his own names, that's obviously kind of a bomb], the ones that swayed and illuminated everything for a long, long time, that let you find a needle on the ground. (...) I remember bangs. And flashes. Everything so close to us. (...) We even jumped on the street from happiness.