Vaclavs Kozlovskis Escapes Pyramid Hill! translated by Monika Kozlovskis

Vaclavs taped this ticket to yet another Pyramid Hill entertainment into his diary
without further comment

PYRAMID HILL, 3.11.48, Wed

I washed my clothes and cursed to myself at such a ridiculous job. After all if I was married, then this washing headache would be over. Often enough lately I’ve played with thoughts of marriage, I think the devil is rearranging my clear thinking. But this problem isn’t as simple as it seems. It would be nice to come home after work to my wife’s clean, nicely furnished house, but that would mean giving up my idea of the sea. A seaman’s life would put off the possibility of marriage for a while at least - how will I unravel this damned knot? I’m already twenty-four years old, how much longer will I have to wander the world alone? But a wife would, after all, hinder a short return to Latvia, you could even say that it would be completely out of the question. Where can I find the solution to these damned problems?

PYRAMID HILL, 6.11.48, Sat

What an unpleasant day. The whole disaster began in the morning, when I woke to find something pressing my heart in an iron fist. Trying to ignore the pain, I got up and went outside, but had to come straight back to bed, because multicoloured circles span before my eyes and I felt that I was about to die. I had cramps and lost consciousness.

When I woke after a few minutes, I was half-sitting at the table and Lembit was holding me with both hands to prevent me from battering the walls - apparently I was also thrashing about. Then I suddenly felt hot, then sweated with cold shivers. I felt so bad that they sent for the doctor. But by the time he got here I felt much better and when he came the second time I was just getting up. I spent a few hours shooting rabbits, then went to look at the exhibition, although I still felt fairly weak.

PYRAMID HILL, 7.11.48, Sun

As is usual on weekends, today the wind blows fiercely again, this time mixed with desert dust. I feel as if I’m broken - all my bones are stiff and my back aches, it’s difficult to bend. It’s too windy for tennis, I’m too tired for table tennis, Anita is working until eleven, and as a result I was home by seven

PYRAMID HILL, 8.11.48, Mon

Memories and sadness flood my heart with renewed strength, my thoughts fly far away to my silent homeland once more, and unable to be called back, linger with my family. A small piece of paper, which a few months ago my sister held in her hands, today lies in my callused palm and pours warm waves into my heart, but my soul floods with new unbearable longing.

When the red tyranny ends, I’ll take the first chance I have to be amongst my loved ones again, to gladden my grey-haired mother and let young Ivars ride on my back as he did once, before the long lonely years…. if only the red tyrant’s power would end, if only there was the possibility for however brief a moment to be among my near and dear ones. But fate is merciless and people even more so. I can’t even write to my family for fear they’d be persecuted. When will this diabolic oppression end? If only it would end before the red beast has time to destroy and swallow everything that is so dear! Am I really fated to never again see my father and dear mother, to whom I’ve caused such worry? Please, God, protect her, and help her to endure these dark days!

PYRAMID HILL, 18.11.48, Thurs

We’ve received welcome news - our “hard labour” period has been shortened to eighteen months, so I’ve only six months left to slave, until 28 May. This news has been announced over the wireless and also written in the newspaper, and the boss and fat Maloney talk about it as well, so I’ll have to believe it.

In Germany increasing numbers of people are fleeing death by escaping to the western sector. It would be interesting to know where it will all end. Meanwhile the DPs have a good life in Australia and create all sorts of trouble.

One of 3 newspaper clippings which Vaclavs had taped into his diary at this point;
the others were headlined "50 Balts to Work at Sugar Factory" and "30,000 From East In DP Camps"

Source:  Sun News-Pictorial, Melbourne, 8 November 1948 through Trove

BENDIGO, 19.11.48, Fri

I didn’t go to work today for I’d arranged to travel to Bendigo to collect my suit. In the morning the boss appeared, and dismissing my ideas of travelling by train, offered to drive me in his own car. He brought some changes with him - next week Percy, Edgar, Kukusinski and the tall Ukrainian will leave us. This is solely the work of the foreman and I’m angry, but what can I do about it? It only strengthens my resolve to leave here after Christmas. The drive proceeded very enjoyably and by two I was in the familiar hotel. My business took up most of the afternoon, and I made it to the pub only just before closing time. After all I had to christen my new suit, which turned out very well. Later in the evening I went to the cinema, then fell into the soft hotel bed.

BENDIGO, 22.11.48, Sun

Now the soup’s begun to boil - this evening the boss arrived and said that Percy is leaving tomorrow morning. Although this was nothing unexpected, suddenly my blood began to boil, and I said that I’m leaving too. Antanas [Martisius?] joined me, then almost all the others, and we went to the boss with our announcement. The boss became angry and waved his hands in the air, but I was angry too and I couldn’t help him, he has to be satisfied with our decision. It’s just as well that yesterday we all drank together to celebrate our first year in Australia, as it turns out it was our farewell celebration as well.

PYRAMID HILL, 23.11.48, Mon

I’d decided to go to Bendigo this morning, but the foreman arrived, and knocking politely at the door saying good morning, told me that at eleven the boss and the employment officer would be here. If that’s the way he wants it, then I waited - it saved me an unnecessary trip to Bendigo. But Snell arrived alone. This didn’t interfere with us having a good exchange of words and clarifying to our listening boss that the only reason we want to leave is because of the foreman McDonald and his two sons. The boss blushed and paled, but what’s that to me. We just want the issue to be resolved somehow and to stay here until Christmas, but we became too heated and we’ve let off too much steam, there’s no going back.

Except for Lembit, Faterir and Gurski, we all received our accounts and didn’t worry overmuch that Snell raced off as if he was on fire. And why wouldn’t he, when suddenly all the work in the quarry stops? Let McDonald and his two sons make three hundred yards a day! Of course, this particular path costs good money, no-one’s going to pay us for the days we don’t work and I’ll no longer get four shillings and fourpence per hour, but I have to stand by my friends. Although I’m not so happy to leave this easy detonating job, which I could have put up with quite easily until Christmas, there are only six months left and after that I would be leaving anyway.

BENDIGO, 24.11.48, Tues

The day has come for me to leave Pyramid. I walked around to say goodbye to my friends. This parting wasn’t at all that pleasant - all the Australians are on our side and cursed the boss. On top of everything else, we found something new to curse, for we were told we had to hire a car from town to take our bags to the station, even though there were several free ones standing in the quarry.

A final wave of the hand, a final glance at the mountain through the train window, then Pyramid Hill also became part of my past. Snell had already advised the employment officer about our arrival, so by four everything was in order and we were each clear about our destinations. Kukusinski has been given a dustless job because of his eye problem and the rest are going to Mildura, but I’m being sent to somewhere near Hamilton. All I have to do now is to spend tonight in a hotel, and my journey to the new workplace can begin.

Vaclavs Kozlovskis in Pyramid Hill, Bendigo, Kerang, September-October 1948, translated by Monika Kozlovskis

PYRAMID HILL, 5.9.48, Sun

I’ve never played so many games before as I did today. It started with tennis at two in the afternoon, then I moved over to the table tennis and didn’t get home until eleven thirty, so I’m sure I’ll be stiff tomorrow. Yesterday’s newspaper again carried some salient words about the Balts and their prospects in Australia …

PYRAMID HILL, 15.9.48, Wed

It seems that summer has arrived already - since Sunday there has been no wind, there are no clouds in the sky and the bright Australian sun soaks our backs in perspiration. I’m working without a shirt, and only short pants. The cold weather months went quickly, almost unnoticed, will the hot ones speed by so swiftly too?

Source:  Vaclavs' diary, clipped from the
Melbourne Sun-News Pictorial, 15 September 1948, p 3

PYRAMID HILL, 18.9.48, Sat 

Damn it, the newspapers are already reporting problems - it seems that we won’t get out of the soup without the full two years. It’s possible that I’ll have to spend a second year in this same cabin, breaking up the same rocks. I’m going to take every opportunity to change my workplace. Perhaps if I have a good talk with the Employment Officer I could get a somewhat better job, but if not, I’ll get through the second year of “hard labour” as well somehow; after all, is that the only unpleasantness in the world?

Source:  Vaclavs' diary, clipped from

Smith's Weekly 18 September 1948

This morning I’d intended to do some washing, but instead I accompanied the schoolmaster to some sort of bushes to find firewood. This afternoon I arrived at the tennis court early, for today there was a so-called “tournament,” which I had no thoughts of winning. After the game I started a set with a quite young girl, we seem to understand each other well enough. We didn’t finish the set because it became too dark, and after a few more table tennis matches I hurried home in time to empty a bottle of wine before going to the dance. My head felt comparatively dull, and after the dance I had a few more at Fred’s, and got home at two in the morning.

PYRAMID HILL, 19.9.48, Sun

Early this morning Vik shook me to get up to go to church, but how could my head be inclined towards church, when it’s fully occupied with roaring and strange heaviness? I went to tennis in the afternoon, however - by then my head was clear again. After tennis I was invited for dinner, and again I enjoyed Australian hospitality. I really have landed in a country of wonderful people. I enjoyed the music, for the host has a large collection of records with wonderful compositions by the grand masters.

PYRAMID HILL, 20.9.48, Mon

Some peaceful, some fast and stormy winds blow my years into non-existence - today is my twenty-fourth birthday. That may not seem a lot, but I’ve seen and experienced so much that sometimes it seems I’ve become an old man. Except I haven’t achieved anything, I’m still a wanderer of the world, who lives here temporarily and at every moment must have my suitcase packed to continue on my way …

PYRAMID HILL, 21.9.48, Tues

Tonight I went to a concert, and I must say that I’ve never experienced such rubbish before. There was nothing wrong with the concert itself, but after it came reviews, presentations, speeches and more speeches, which lasted longer that the concert itself and dragged on until midnight. It was so boring that I wanted to get up and leave, but just as I was about to, the national anthem played and happily the business was at an end. I’m never going to one of these functions again!

The ticket to the boring speeches

Source:  Inside Vaclavs' diary

PYRAMID HILL, 3.10.48, Sun

My five year anniversary is here, but my God, how it differs from other anniversaries, for it is a sorrowful occasion. Five long wandering and unsettled years have passed since I left my mother’s warm nest, and during all these years troubles have followed me like the moon follows the earth. As well as these troubles I am pursued by longing for I don’t know what; perhaps it’s longing for my home and family. I try to escape the thoughts of home, but I just can’t succeed.

Like it or not my thoughts often fly there and in my heart spreads a sudden, painful fear as to whether I will ever return and see what has become of my native land? I think of my father and also my mother, who I last saw as she wept over my fate, then my hands form into fists and my thoughts feverishly seek something else to think about. Hatred ferments in my heart against the tyrants who separated me from my kinfolk and forced me to wander around the world. Difficult, endlessly difficult it is for the one without a country, home or family. Lately I’ve started to think occasionally of starting my own family, but with what? Australians make expensive wives, and after all I haven’t any money.

PYRAMID HILL - BENDIGO, 8.10.48, Fri

After all I can’t always work, sometimes I have to enjoy a holiday as well, therefore today I travelled to Bendigo. After two hours in a comfortable Australian train I got out at Bendigo station at lunchtime, wondering which street to take to find a hotel. The result of my wondering was that I climbed into a taxi which quickly drove me to the “Metropolitan” hotel, where a fat, courteous woman asked me to spell my names, wrote them in a book and showed me my room. After lunch, I went shopping and looked around the city with all its 40,000 inhabitants.

Not the postcard in Vaclavs' diary but another view, from 1920, of the centre of Bendigo, 
called Charing Cross after the "centre" of London

Source:  Wikipedia

The town is very appealing, it has many streets, and an amazing number of young, smiling lasses. If I could only get to know one, I’d stay here longer if it was possible to do so. I’ll have to try to wheedle a job in Bendigo next year from the Employment Office. I’d like to live here, even though I would spend my money faster here than living in Pyramid’s isolation. I went into a clothing store, Ashman’s, but couldn’t find a suit I like, so I chose a light blue striped cloth, and went to be measured for a suit to be made for me. I was led into the tailor’s shop itself and was amazed when I saw about fifty young girls working there, one of whom will sew my summer suit in six weeks.

Vaclavs' receipt for his suit, scanned from his diary

Next I looked for a watch, and after looking through three shops, found what I wanted in the fourth. Although it cost me twelve and a half pounds, I like it and paid for it. I wandered around some more, bought some shoes in the American style as well as a few more trifles, then it was time for dinner. Afterwards I tried to find a bar, but they all close at six and there isn’t a night local in the whole of this wide city, it’s quite amazing. Although here and there in large red electric letters I saw the signs “Bar,” all you can buy in such places are milk and ice cream, therefore the only thing I could do tonight was walk to the cinema and afterwards enjoy the comfort of the soft hotel bed.

BENDIGO - PYRAMID HILL, 9.10.48, Sat

My wallet twenty-five pounds lighter and my holiday over, I began the return journey. Of course, first I went into a bar to make up for yesterday, and made it to the station only ten minutes before my train left. It feels quite strange when people call me “sir,” but I’ll have to get used to it, after all I’m no longer a DP, and I pay the taxi driver with my own money. I half-dozed in the carriage almost all the way, but despite this when I climbed out at Pyramid station my head still hadn’t cleared. It only cleared a little when after the usual tennis games we emptied the cherry brandy and wine bottles and went to the dance. I don’t know why I didn’t enjoy it this time, even though I danced every dance, I don’t know what the matter was. Perhaps the Bendigo lasses have left their impression on me?

PYRAMID HILL, 12.10.48, Tues

It’s amazing that such a tremendous wind can blow here - at night it shakes the whole cabin and jolts my bed, so that it seems the whole lot will fly off to the devil. This afternoon five new men arrived, but they aren’t the hoped-for Balts. Only one is a Lithuanian; the rest are three Poles and a Ukrainian. They seem to be good people, but we’ll have to wait and see.

PYRAMID HILL, 16.10.48, Sat

This afternoon my tennis team played at Calivil North courts, so I had to ride ten miles to get there. As it turned out I had to play against Pyramid, and my own team. There was no dance this evening so we played table tennis at the café.

PYRAMID HILL, 26.10.48, Tues

Summer’s here in earnest now - this week suddenly began with unbearably fierce heat, and it doesn’t seem to want to disappear. At night I have to remember how to sleep when it’s thirty degrees. Due to the heat, time lags and work hours crawl forward like snails, much more slowly than they did on cool days. Often I have to put my watch to my ear to make sure it hasn’t stopped. A difficult time lies ahead. I have no desire at all to stand on my feet breaking rocks, sweating while the hot sun beats down. Worst of all is the hot southerly wind, which doesn’t provide the least relief, and the water bottle is quite warm. I don’t have any appetite at mealtimes.

KERANG, 27.10.48, Wed

As it turned out, today the schoolmaster was going to a conference in Kerang and he told me there were two free seats in his car. I have to visit Kerang at least once, so without much ado Vik and I were standing by the big shop shortly before eight, and within the hour we were in Kerang. Of course, our first business was with the Employment Office. We explained how “bad” our situation is, complained about the “heavy” work and low wage, but nothing helped. Although he promised to do whatever was in his power and said that he will suggest a change in workplace to the government, he added that it will be very difficult to arrange. He said that in accordance with the contract we must work a full two years, and that he had grave doubts as to whether anything will eventuate concerning a change.

It seems that the only way to change jobs is to pack all our belongings and return to Bonegilla, but whether I would take such a stupid step, I doubt myself. After all it’s not that bad in the quarry, perhaps I will be able to survive the next year as well, only I’ll have to go much slower than I did this year. After all if I try, during the coming year I’ll be able to save two hundred pounds. I do want to go somewhere else, but you can’t have everything you want. After we left the old office building we wandered around town, bought a few items and found a few bars. By five we were seated in the car again driving home.

PYRAMID HILL, 30.10.48, Sat

One whole year has passed since I last rode in a German cattle car and since I took my last step on the European continent. Whether I will ever return is in the hands of Destiny. This anniversary really lends itself well to remembrance - it rained all afternoon. In the evening I rode to the café to play table tennis, and again the road splattered my bicycle with mud. I don’t know how I made it to Fred’s - I was drunk as a lord coming home

Vaclavs Kozlovskis Goes to Kerang, June 1948, translated by Monika Kozlovskis

Updated 21 March 2026.

KERANG, 3.6.48, Thurs

At the start of this week I noticed with fear in my heart that another of my healthy teeth has begun to show an ugly hole in its sides. Instantly, I remembered my last tooth extraction by the local butcher, and also the enormous bill I later received in the mail. I’m not so rich that I can pay one and a half pounds for every pulled tooth. I don’t want false teeth in my mouth either, which in the Australian mind is no bad thing.

Here almost everyone has dentures. From the age of twelve, some of them have all their teeth pulled out and replaced with false teeth. This could be very unpleasant, if you happened to kiss a lady, and in the height of passion you swallowed some of her false teeth. I don’t want to have them either and in some passionate moment to lose them down some lady’s girdled stomach, from where I couldn’t retrieve them ... but it’s not pleasant to live without teeth, so I’ll just have to resign myself to paying a fortune for them.

After weighing up all the advantages and disadvantages of false teeth, I decided to travel to Kerang to see the dentist. This morning I was seated in the dusty driver’s cabin of the truck that carries ground rock from the crusher. Despite the winding, potholed road and the doubtful-looking bridges built over the canals last century, which sometimes fall to pieces under the weight of passing cars, after an hour we reached the point where I had to get out and travel the remaining eight miles by bicycle.

Kerang's main street, 1948

Source:  Historic Photos

I realised that this road was built with my assistance, for some time ago the crusher created the first blisters on my hands to produce many of the small stones pressed into the road, and here and there the sand brought from the quarry was mixed in with the small rocks. This seemed to have been piled here recently, so I would have had a hand in creating those piles as well. Of course, I’ve been paid for doing that, and some of that wage was spent on the bicycle I ride. 

So now, as it turns out, with the fruits of my wages I was riding along the source of my wages, watching the rabbits bolting into the roadside bushes, and occasionally blowing on my hands as they froze in the morning air. The road is good, even better because I’ve helped to build it, and in half an hour the eight miles were behind me and I arrived in the city centre.

There are three dentists in Kerang, all with Melbourne University training. My tooth began itching pleasantly and rejoicing that it would soon be cleaned and mended. But the repairer himself wasn’t that easy to find. 

On ringing the doorbell at the first dentist’s, a red-haired lady, quite young, opened the door. With an ear-to-ear smile, her dentures gleaming in the sunlight that streamed through the partly open door, she kindly asked how many teeth I wanted extracted (Australians are not accustomed to only pulling one out at a time!). 

When I replied that I only have the one hole in my tooth and I want that filled, she gave me such a strange look, and with sudden sympathy in her voice and under her slightly overlong nose apologised in a whisper that the dentist didn’t work today. Then her overpainted red lips twisted into a friendly, but argument-excluding smile, and I soon found myself back outside, in the brisk autumn air.

This first setback was soon repeated. The second dentist had gone to Cohuna, and the third wasn’t in, and didn’t do fillings in any case. So the only fruits of my thirty-seven mile journey were the greens I ate for lunch in Kerang and the shilling I spent in a bar to repair my lost mood, and meanwhile the hole in my tooth has not become any smaller.

In 1948, Kerang celebrated its centenary of settlement with a Back to Kerang event:
some of those attending are photographed here

Source:  Kerang's 1948 Settlement Centenary celebrations,

prints by Elsie M Dicker held at the Kerang Museum

(Click once on the image to see a larger version in a new page)

Who knows, maybe I’ll have to have it extracted after all and exchanged for a false one, for what the crowd does, you have to follow. If you’re living with wolves, you have to howl like a wolf. I had another look at the streets and several decorous looking women, then headed back on my bicycle in time to catch the last vehicle going to Pyramid, so that instead of having to ride my bike all the way I could sit in the dusty cabin next to the truck driver. I’m not too concerned about my unrepaired tooth, by now I’m accustomed to the calm English way of dealing with problems.

PYRAMID HILL, 18.6.48, Sat

We’ve waited for the promised cabins for five long months, and started moving into them today. There’s nothing much to them — cement foundation, one layer of thin, holey bricks in the walls and a tin roof, without ceiling or inner walls. But it’s still an improvement — at least we’ve dispensed with the continual driving around in the car, and also the town is nearby, so close that we can almost touch it with our hands. After we’ve hammered paper onto the inside walls, sorted out a cupboard and table, then they will be really nice, cosy rooms: what else could we ask for?

Are these 6 of the 7 cabins in the new barracks?
It's a question because Vaclavs says that they have "holey bricks in the walls",
while these walls clearly are weatherboard,
but in his 6 July diary entry he does write about a "simple wooden shed";
if this is the barracks, note the "ablutions block" to the right

Source:  Collection of Vaclavs Kozlovskis

PYRAMID HILL, 26.6.48, Sat

To our surprise we only today realised that Midsummer had passed unnoticed, so of course we had to celebrate. And how else are bachelors to celebrate a holiday? We bought wine and quietly drank it. But the wine wasn’t calm at all, it climbed into the head, made me put on my recently bought suit and go to the dance. 

I only danced two of the comical Australian dances, the rest of the time was occupied with drinking with my friends, so that in the end I even found it difficult to climb onto my bike and return home along the suddenly smooth-seeming road.

PYRAMID HILL, 28.6.48, Mon

It was my turn to go to the city for the groceries today, so straight after work I sat on my bicycle’s back. I rode home with an unexpected thrill in my heart - I’ve received two more letters from my homeland’s girls. These two envelopes, having measured the long road from distant Latvia, now lie in my pocket rustling and creating this thrill in my heart, quite similar to the first letters.

The whole world has suddenly become so sweet, and my thoughts fly far, far away. Ausma has befriended my youngest sister Erasma; now at last my family will know what’s become of me. Ah, how I would love to be with my loved ones, for no matter how brief a moment! I quickly read both letters, and all evening I was unable to recall my thoughts from home. 

They lingered a long time in that land, now strewn with the marvels of spring, until finally, sleep came to drive off my unneeded pain and longing for the impossible. Who can tell when the strength of the Red tyranny will end and my home will be free again? I search for answers in vain, for even the shadows of the past, roaming through the night’s darkness, don’t know.