Bonegilla 1947-1948: Boxing Day to New Year's Eve (December 26-31) by Endrius "Andrew" Jankus

This is the fourth part of the recollections of Endrius Jankus, a Lithuanian refugee who arrived in Australia on the First Transport, the General Stuart Heintzelman.  Endrius became known as Andrew in Australia.  He was born in Draverna in the south of Lithuania on 7 July 1929.  He died in Hobart, Tasmania, on 23 July 2014.  He sent the full memoir to me in 2012.

26 December 1947 

The second day of Christmas was stinking hot and the sun was burning down on us. Nevertheless, an Australian basketball team arrived to challenge the Lithuanian team. Naturally, the Lithuanian team won. In the late afternoon, the girls from Albury-Wodonga arrived. Someone introduced to us the game of Lotto. Any one who won got 10 shillings, a fortune to us. After that we danced the night away till midnight when the girls left for home. But saying goodbyes took longer, in fact maybe a whole hour. 

27 December 1947

In the morning, I attended English classes until lunch. At lunchtime, Mr Bauza, his wife and a secretary arrived for a visit. Mr Bauza was the President of the Lithuanian Community in Sydney and had migrated to Australia in 1930.* 

We Lithuanians gathered in the Great Hall to hear him welcome us to Australia and describe life in Australia. We had a thousand questions to which we wanted answers. He obliged with clear answers in our own language that everyone understood. 

That night, at 8 pm, the dance started. For some unknown reason, we had a great influx of girls. There were three buses, one truck and a heap of cars full of girls. Well, it was Saturday night when just about everyone in Australia goes out. Or it could have been that the word had spread about our fantastic dancing ability? With the new army boot issue, when you trod on the girl's toes, it made her jump off the floor. At least dancing gave us time to practise our English. 

28 December 1947

It was very hot. Everyone was walking around like a zombie. We spent the day in the Lake (Lake Hume) to get some relief from the heat. At night, at 8 pm, we had a concert. Many luminaries from the area arrived including all the girls whom we had come to know. 

29 December 1947 

I got up early as I had orderly duties in the mess hall at breakfast, lunch and dinner. At lunchtime, I and many others went swimming in the Lake. In the afternoon, it was payday. Each of us collected our five shillings pocket money. I even managed to attend the English classes as well. 

30 December 1947 

On this day our whole English class had been rostered for duty at various places in the camp. I was assigned to the kitchen to wash up the big roasting pans. That was one hell of a job, trying to clean the burnt parts of the pans with no proper implements. All I was handed was a knife and a wash-up rag. 

The kitchen was dominated by pushy Latvians who claimed to be cooks. We thought of them as a bunch of crawlers with very little cooking experience. 

Some of the Latvian kitchen staff with friends, 
probably photographed after Endrius left Bonegilla —
do you recognise any of them? **

At the beginning of my duties, I was allowed to have a meal of whatever I wanted. I chose a pudding, apples and oranges. 

Friendly relations soon deteriorated as one of the cooks kept telling me that the pans were not clean enough. I asked him to show me how it was done. He declined. 

There was a stack of pans, probably more than twenty. In the end, after one more criticism, I threw the pan at him. I told him to clean the pans himself and walked out. 

Naturally, I was reported to the Camp Commandant for shirking my duties. I was told to report to him through the loudspeaker. I ignored the request for most of the day, going for a swim in the Lake and spending some time there. 

Towards evening, the announcer changed his tactics and asked me to come to the office as there was an urgent matter to discuss. Well, I thought, maybe there is some bad news for me. 

I fronted up to the Office and Major Kershaw jumped at me. After raving on for some time, he tweaked my ear and told me that if I had been in his unit, he would have fixed me, whatever that meant. 

That night a furious storm descended on Bonegilla. The barracks rocked and creaked and most of us thought that they might overturn. I think that it was just to frighten us. 

Talking about the kitchen crew comprising mainly of Latvians, I had previous experience with the Commandant. I was asked to be part of a delegation to him with a complaint when three-quarters of the camp was suffering from diarrhoea. 

The Commandant met us outside his office and went into great detail about "a little fly in Australia" that was the cause of it. One fellow elbowed me in the side and asked me to ask the Commandant if you could get VD from this fly. 

The Major went ballistic. He harangued us for some time about how ungrateful we were for their effort to accommodate us. You would think that they had rescued us from certain death. 

We knew what the problem was. The cooking staff drank plenty of milk that was supposed to be for our breakfast and made up the shortfall by adding water to the remainder. We came away from the confrontation shaking our heads.

31 December 1947 

There were English lessons as usual during the day. At 9 pm there was another dance with the usual crew. Our girls and those from Albury-Wodonga arrived and a great time was had by all. It ended at 2 am. Since I was one of the orderlies I had to help to restore and clean the hall. I got to bed at 4 am.

To be continued.

Footnotes

* For more on Antanas Bauže and his wife, Ona, see various Early Lithuanians in Australia blog entries by Jonas Mockunas at https://earlylithuaniansinaustralia.blogspot.com/search/label/Bauze.  In particular, this blog reproduces some text from another Heintzelman passenger, Kazys Mieldazys, who recorded his memories as First Steps in Australia.  Mieldazys wrote that, 

"A large surprise came from the President of the Australian Lithuanian Society, Antanas Bauze.  He had already greeted us by letter at Fremantle.  [At Bonegilla, late December 1947]  he visited us with Mrs Bauze and Mr Kuodis.  A meeting of all the Lithuanians was called, at which Mr Bauze greeted the newcomers, provided some details about life in Australia, and invited all to become members of the Australian Lithuanian Society.  The invitation was warmly embraced and Mr Bauze left with a list of about 400 new members."  [There were 437 Lithuanians among the 839 First Transport passengers who initiated the Bonegilla migrant camp.]

** Kitchen staff photo:  Standing, 5th from left, standing, is Galina Vasins, later Karciauskas; 8th from left, is Irina Vasins, later Kakis, both cleaners.  Double-click on this photograph to see a larger version.

Bonegilla 1947-1948: The Week to Christmas Day (December 19-25) by Endrius "Andrew" Jankus

This is the third part of the recollections of Endrius Jankus, a Lithuanian refugee who arrived in Australia on the First Transport, the General Stuart Heintzelman.  Endrius became known as Andrew in Australia.  He was born in Draverna in the south of Lithuania on 7 July 1929.  He died in Hobart, Tasmania, on 23 July 2014.  He sent the memoir to me in 2012.

19 December 1947 

All the Lithuanians worked hard today to erect and decorate a welcoming portal for the Archbishop of Melbourne who was to arrive in the late afternoon. Another group erected an altar in the Great Hall. 

During the celebration of Mass, one Lithuanian couple took the vows of marriage from the Archbishop. This was the second Lithuanian marriage at the camp.* 

Source:  The Advocate (Melbourne), 8 January 1948 page 7

One elderly Lithuanian woman was offering her daughter to me as a bride and prodded me to "tie the knot". She used the old Lithuanian saying that “two beggars live better than one", or words to that effect. Or "if you have to beg, two beggars will bring home more than one". Nevertheless, I remained a proud bachelor. 

20 December 1947 

The loudspeaker was working overtime and kept repeating the message. We all were called to assemble at the Great Hall as Dr Crossley had something important to tell us. He spoke to us in German and assumed that everyone understood the German language. 

He talked about our contracts, saying that Parliament had decided to increase our obligation to work under government authority to two years, instead of the one year we had been told in Germany. He tried to explain to us that the one-year contract was meant as no less than one year. 

When this drastic news sank in, there was almost a riot. Most of us felt betrayed even before we started work. There was an angry confrontation, with people shouting Nazi slogans at the Professor. He bounced up and down the stage calling us ungrateful immigrants. 

By that time Dr Crossley was screaming and asking us not to take any notice of our sergeants, inferring that some still had influence over us. There were a few ex-sergeants among us, but they were in the minority and certainly had no influence over anyone. He finally left the stage and retreated to the Commandant’s Office. No doubt, he passed the message on to higher authorities. 

A few days later, we were recalled to assemble in the Great Hall and Dr Crossley informed us of changes. Immigrants from the First Transport would have contractual obligations of 12 months, but immigrants on subsequent transports would have to serve two years. 

Unfortunately, this information was not passed on to all the employment bureaus. This resulted in threats of deportation and or imprisonment. When we left our employment after 12 months, we were all threatened with deportation from some of the Anglo-Saxon bureaucracy. The Communist Party’s inspired hatred of us lasted a lifetime. 

At night we had a dance. All the usual local Albury-Wodonga girls arrived. Some had already made romantic attachments with some of the new arrivals. It was becoming boring and the attendance from the men was dropping off. There were never enough girls to go around.

21 December 1947

Today a basketball competition was organised against an Australian team and a Latvian team. Both got a hiding from the Lithuanian Team, as basketball was a national sport in Lithuania and they were European champions. 

At lunchtime, one of the Australians employed at the camp, who used to accompany the girls moving to work in Canberra, died of a heart attack. 

We had a big contingent of Scouts. There were Air, Naval and Rover Scouts and Girl Guides among the Lithuanians. We had a meeting to organise a traditional Scout gathering for the next night starting at 8 pm. 

The centrepiece was always the bonfire with a performance of funny skits, songs and much merriment. It was just like we used to have back home in the pre-war days. Everyone had a job to do, from performing, to singing, to welcoming guests and seating them. We invited the Boy Scouts and friends from the surrounding area. 

22 December 1947 

In the morning I attended the classes organised for us in familiarisation with our new country and English lessons. 

Later, at 8pm, we had our traditional Scouts’ bonfire. Lots of Scouts from around the Albury-Wodonga area arrived and brought us a present, a case of apples. That was very nice of them. We did enjoy chomping into them later. 

The ceremony by the bonfire was an outstanding success and an eye-opener for our visitors. We selected skits which included miming with no interpreting required so that everyone watching could understand. In between, a choir sang old Scouting songs. The words were different to those our audience knew but the melodies were the same. 

The continuous robust acts impressed all our visitors, our teachers, the Commandant and his retinue and the Scouts. Amongst us we had a few outstanding performers. Two fellows carried in a stick from which hung a dozen bottles with various amounts of water in them. The "Maestro" appeared suddenly with two sticks and played the tune of "My Bonny Lies Over the Ocean”. The clapping took a long time before it stopped. 

Our "Maestro" played a few more tunes before he called it quits. Most of the audience didn’t know that less than one month earlier we had put on the same performance for the Scouts of Western Australia on one of their beaches. 

We all had worked hard in one capacity or another late into the night and decided to have a rest day. We slept late and spent the day diving and swimming in the Lake, to get away from the infernal heat. 

Inside the corrugated iron barracks was worse than outside. It was like an oven even at night. Most of us took our blankets outside and bedded down in the long grass. That was a good idea until one chap jumped up with a barbaric scream in the middle of the night, just because a friendly snake had slithered inside his primitive bed for a bit of company. That ended the sleeping in the grass episode. 

One another night as we rested on our wire stretcher beds, having a chat with one another with the doors opened at either end for some air, a snake navigated the three steps into our barrack. She was about to enter our space, when someone threw a boot at her and she beat a hasty retreat. 

24 December 1947 

Christmas Eve used to be celebrated throughout our country and most of Europe. It didn’t seem right that Christmas Eve was boiling hot in Australia. It was very unusual for us and it certainly proved to be at Bonegilla. It was obvious that our new bosses either didn’t know the significance of the day or could care less. It was a big disappointment to us. 

That night, all of us gathered in the big hall. A decorated Christmas tree stood there like an orphan. A few streamers hung down from the rafters in a careless fashion. We each received two slices of bread with butter and jam on it and an orange. To drink, we had orange juice. We sat around the Christmas tree and sang carols like we used to do at home or wherever we found ourselves to be on this Holy Night. 

Someone produced a blessed Eucharistic wafer and broke it up in tiny pieces on a plate to go around 400 Lithuanian Catholics. The plate was passed around and each of us licked the end of the finger and retrieved a tiny piece of wafer to put on our tongues. This bound us in unity to our nationality. 

The Commandant, the professor and the teachers wished us a Merry Christmas. At midnight we left the place for our quarters. 

It was a far cry from our country’s tradition, when everything had to be spick and span. Hay was put on the table and a white tablecloth was put over it. The plates were set out, including plates for the recently departed. A candle was lit on their plates to welcome the departed spirits. 

It was a feast for Jesus, with a twelve-course cuisine. That day, no meat was to be consumed. Although the Church allowed the consumption of meat, the people still carried out the old traditions. 

The eating began when the first star appeared in the sky. On an overcast day, the family elder decided when it was time to eat. The twelve dishes started with a pea gruel, a bean gruel, dumplings made from ground wheat, some traditional Lithuanian dishes, dumplings with cottage cheese, cranberry jelly, apple cakes, little Christmas cakes, marzipan and various nuts. To drink there were various fruit juices. The heavy eating was left for Christmas Day. 

25 December 1947 

On Christmas Day at Bonegilla, it rained cats and dogs as they say. The rain stopped in the evening and some of us went for a walk. The day was a non-event.

To be continued.

*  The woman in the illustration looks very like Irena Naujokatiene and the man like Antanas Jurevicius, a Lithuanian couple who were married at Bonegilla on 22 December 1947 by Fr JC Awburn, according to Jurevicius' Bonegilla card.

Bonegilla 1947-1948: The Next Week (December 12-18) by Endrius "Andrew" Jankus

This post continues the recollections of Endrius Jankus, a Lithuanian refugee who arrived in Australia on the First Transport, the General Stuart Heintzelman.  Endrius became known as Andrew in Australia.  He was born in Draverna in the south of Lithuania on 7 July 1929.  He died in Hobart, Tasmania, on 23 July 2014.  He sent the memoir to me in 2012.

12 December 1947

English Classes were organised by a group of university lecturers and the man in charge was Professor Crossley. The professor was from the University of Sydney. He was a short, dumpy fellow who spoke to us in German. We thought that he was a linguist and assumed that all of us could speak German. Probably about three-quarters could understand German, but not many were fluent.* 

In his late 30's but still playing rugby union with the students:
Dr Ralph Crossley from a photograph of the 1939
New England University College rugby team

Source:  http://aussieobserver.blogspot.com/

I was assigned to Class 3a, an advanced class in English. Our teacher was a Mr Lightfoot from Adelaide University, a very nice person. We had to attend four lessons a day. We were taught some English, but also about the strange monetary system of pounds, shillings and pence. We touched on the basic law of the country, the political structure of Parliament and the complicated measurements of rods, chains, feet and miles. 

The professor, Dr RG Crossley, was from the Department of German at the University of Sydney and was the chief instructor of 22 teachers recruited from NSW and Victoria who volunteered to work during their summer vacation to teach the newcomers English and familiarise them with the Australian way of life. 

The official estimate was that 80 per cent of the migrants could not speak English. I would dispute that figure. Of the 839 in our group, that would amount to more than 150 speaking English. There were very few in the First Transport that could speak English. My guess would be that 95 per cent could not speak the language. Most of them could speak and understand a little German. 

We had dances in the Great Hall. Girls from Albury and Wodonga were brought in to complement our somewhat moody girls. Some started quick romances with them. Some came back later after completing their contracts and married them. 

One fellow showing off his swimming capabilities drowned in front of his girlfriend. He was our first casualty in Australia. We buried him with the respect that we always applied to our departed.** 

One barbel latched on to me, but I steered her promptly towards another fellow.***  I wasn’t interested in getting 'chained' just yet. The slogan at that time was Populate or Perish. When we asked the local girls to help with the 'population' part, pointing out that it will be good for the country, the reply was that it might have been good for the country but that it wasn’t too good for them. How unpatriotic! 

15 December 1947 

A heap of journalists and photographers descended on us. They took our photos at the Lake, swimming and diving. Those photos appeared the next day in the newspapers. I didn't see it, but someone told me about it. I was watching a movie in the Hall when a camera was pushed in front of me and I was filmed watching it. Later, a journalist 'corralled' me for an interview.

It's OlgerTs Bergmanis playing with Gunars Berzzarins but
at least this is a photograph of some men for a change:
it's likely to be one of the photographs taken on 15 December 1947

Source:  Sydney Morning Herald via Trove

Camp life went on as usual. I didn’t hear it, but someone informed me and my friends that at 2 am Radio Moscow read out all the names of the people who had arrived in Australia. No doubt the KGB was still interested in the people who got away from them. 

17 December 1947 

I was ordered to offside on the camp’s truck. We drove to the railway station at Albury to pick up clothing and bring it back to the Camp. The second trip we made was to Wodonga to pick up food for the camp. 

At 6 pm we received a surprise visit from the Immigration Minister, Mr Calwell, as we had organised an exhibition of cultural relics from the three Baltic countries. He was impressed. 

At 7.30 pm we had a concert in the Hall. A lot of guests arrived as well. All this was filmed and taped. After the concert, Mr Calwell thanked us for our efforts and appeared to be very pleased. The next morning as we were standing at the clothing store, he waved goodbye to us as he left the Camp. 

Estonians Valter Kongats (left), Tiiu Jalak (later Salasoo, centre) and
Vally Meschin (later Johanson, right) perform one of their folk dances,
Raksi Jaak or Crackerjack, at the concert put together for the visit of
the Minister for Immigration, Arthur Calwell****

Source:  Collection of Tiiu Salasoo

18 December 1947 

At the clothing store, I was issued with a sports jacket, trousers, army boots, army shirt and two pairs of army socks. Outside the clothing store we had to line up to receive our new outfits. We were called alphabetically according to our surnames. 

The back of Endrius' 'Bonegilla card' confirms the clothing issue;
a later diary entry records that the 2 pairs of pyjamas, hat and
set of braces to hold up the trousers were issued on 23 January —
they were all Army surplus, left over from the end of WWII

Source:  National Archives of Australia

The clothing store was next to the Camp Commandant’s office. In the line there was banter going on in our own language. 

One tall fellow with a booming voice replied to the banter quite often. That must have infuriated our Camp Commandant, Major Kershaw. He came flying out of his office, marched up to the 'booming voice' and punched him in the face saying, 'I am the Commandant'. 

We were astonished that the receiver of the punishment punched him back with the words, 'and I am an emigrant'. The Commandant retreated to his office speechless, and most of us just clapped and shouted 'Bravo'. Not because he had hit the Commandant, but for his ability in the English Language. 

A Scout Master from Albury arrived after lunch to inspect the Scouts and have a word to us. 

That night I was invited by the Albury girls to a dance in their town. About thirty of us went in the Camp’s truck. We saw the same girls who visited us, but a few new ones had joined them. I met a girl called Nancy. She was a good looking Amazon and friendly girl. She even gave me her address. 

The supper was fantastic. We were urged to eat up all the different cakes and biscuits. The problem was that they were too sweet for us. We were not used to so many sweet things, but enjoyed drinking the tea.

To be continued.

Footnotes

* Ralph George Crossley was the Senior Lecturer in German and head of the subject at the University of Sydney, but not a Professor.  Most of the 22 other teachers were his students who had just completed their third year of university studies.

** I have told the story of Aleksandras Vasiliauskas earlier in this blog, at  https://firsttransport.blogspot.com/2021/04/aleksandras-vasiliauskas-short-and-sad.html.

*** A barbel is a type of fish found in British fresh waters.  I don't know for which word or words Endrius might have been searching here.  Bar girl?

**** There are videos of Raksi Jaak on the Web.  Since the photograph shows 3 dancers only, I've linked it to a video of the dance performed by a trio.  It seems that, the more dancers you have, the more energetic and athletic it can be.  Watch more energetic versions here and here.