Antanas Martisius (1923-?) Another Who Left, by Ann Tündern-Smith and Rasa Ščevinksienė

Few public records

Antanas Martisius is one of the 31 Heintzelman passengers whose selection papers have gone missing. In addition, there were 3 Displaced Persons with the same name in Germany after World War II.

At least we know from his Bonegilla card that our Antanas had a birthdate of 1 December 1923, so we can focus on a man with that name and birthdate. The Bonegilla card also says that he was one of the 7 sent to the Pyramid Hill Quarries in northwest Victoria.

Antanas' photo from his Bonegilla card

Source:  National Archives of Australia

Antanas' Lithuanian past

The DP Registration Record form completed in Germany in November 1946 says he was born in Šakai in Marijampolė County, now close to the eastern border of the Kaliningrad exclave. His parents were Juozas Martisius and the former Prančiska Butkiūte.

His usual trade or occupation was stated to be smith, which presumably was a blacksmith as opposed to workers in metals other than iron.

A 1942 census in Lithuania, conducted despite the War, gives more information about Antanas and his family.

They actually lived in the Daugėliškiai village in the Šakiai district.  The parents married in 1921.  The census shows that they had had 9 children 21 years later, of whom 8 had survived (4 daughters and 4 sons). 

Antanas was born in Daugėliškiai village and had finished elementary school.  He was working as a metal turner at the Malcanas agricultural machinery factory in Šakiai.  Being what Australians call a "fitter and turner" would explain the "smith" description on his DP registration form.

Alien Registration Details

His Alien Registration Application form says that he was 6 feet (1.8 m) tall, so he towered almost as much as the 6 feet 3 inch (1.9 m) tall Lembit Koplus, his fellow Pyramid Hill worker.

The file which contains his Alien Registration Application form also has his original Certificate of Registration under the Aliens Act, a passport-like document. It was issued in September 1952 to replace an earlier Certificate which was mutilated. This means that there is no record of his movements after leaving the Bonegilla Camp for Pyramid Hill until a Rae Street, Fitzroy, address at the start of the new Certificate.

Later changes of address were to a hostel in Eildon, Victoria, in September 1953 and to semi-rural Clarinda, then on the outskirts of Melbourne but now definitely a southeastern suburb, in July 1956.

Antanas Leaves

Then the final record states that Antanas left the Commonwealth (of Australia) on 11 July 1958 on a passenger ship, the Oronsay. It sailed a trans-Pacific route, stopping at both Vancouver, Canada, and San Francisco in the United States.

The Oransay was favoured by several others who left Australia for the Americas. The first was Viktoras Kuciauskas in 1956, bound for the love of his life in the United States. The peripatetic Vladas Navickas left Australia on this ship in early in 1959. Veronika Tutins, now Brokans, travelled on the Oronsay with her family in 1960, probably with the aim of joining her successful brother-in-law.

After Antanas left Sydney on the Oronsay, the trail has gone cold. There appear to be no further public records of the life of our Antanas Martisius.

SOURCES

‘Folder DP2579, names from MARTINSONS, MARIA to MARTON, IBOLYA (2)’ 3.1.1 Registration and Care of DPs inside and outside of Camps, DocID: 68195911 (Antanas MARTISIUS), ITS/Arolsen Archives https://collections.arolsen-archives.org/en/document/68195911, accessed 2 March 2026.

National Archive of Australia: Department of Immigration, Victorian Branch; B78, Alien registration documents, 1948-1965; 1958/MARTISIUS A, MARTISIUS Antanas - Nationality: Lithuanian - Arrived Fremantle per General Heintzelman 28 November 1947, 1947-1958 recordsearch.naa.gov.au/SearchNRetrieve/Interface/ViewImage.aspx?B=6036235, accessed 3 March 2026.

National Archive of Australia: Migrant Reception and Training Centre, Bonegilla [Victoria]; A2571, Name Index Cards, Migrants Registration [Bonegilla], 1947-1956; MARTISIUS ANTANAS, MARTISIUS, Antanas : Year of Birth - 1923 : Nationality - LITHUANIAN : Travelled per - GEN. HEINTZELMAN : Number – 964 recordsearch.naa.gov.au/SearchNRetrieve/Interface/ViewImage.aspx?B=203615119, accessed 3 March 2026.

VšĮ Genealoginiai surašymai (Public Institution Genealogical Censuses) 'Šeimos surašymas 1942 metais' ('Family Census in 1942', in Lithuanian) https://eu3.ragic.com/genealogija/census/3/19406.xhtml, accessed 4 March 2026.

Wikipedia, ‘Clarinda, Victoria’ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clarinda,_Victoria, accessed 3 March 2026.

Wikipedia, ‘Marijampolė County’ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marijampolė_County, accessed 2 March 2026.

Wikipedia, ‘Šakai’ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C5%A0akiai, accessed 2 March 2026.

Wikipedia ‘SS Oronsay (1950)’ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SS_Oronsay_(1950), accessed 2 March 2026.

Vaclavs Kozlovskis at Pyramid Hill, February-March 1948, translated by Monika Kozlovskis

PYRAMID HILL, 1.2.48, Sun

With our drinking we’ve become good friends with the Australians — today they invited us to go for a drive.  We drove ten miles past Cohuna, then reached a large tree-lined river.  We swam, fooled around, and spent a truly wonderful day; returning home only at ten at night.

A swimming party, possibly at the Murray River or a tributary, like Gunbower Creek:  guessing that the tall man at the back is Lembit Koplus while the 4 standing on the right (none wearing swimming costumes) are possibly other Balts

Source:  Collection of Vaclavs Kozlovskis

If you think about it, there is nothing much here in Australia, even the pencils come from England.  Car tyres might be made in Australia, but the cars themselves come from America or Canada.  The countryside here is monotonous — only yellow grass, hard red earth and a bush here and there.  Most unpleasant of all is the heat and bright sun, which rarely disappears behind clouds.  Even the night air is so hot that you have to toss around in bed for a long time without sleep and soak the blankets in sweat.

Here people put a shovel in your hand, make you break rocks, and can still ask you “How do you like Australia?”  What is there here, that you can like?  The sunshine?  But despite all this, Australia is a true Happy Isle, with good and kind people.  Why does it always seem to me, that the grass is always greener on the other side?  Why is it that the drums of war in Europe have left such deep wounds in me that beginning a peaceful life is almost impossible!  When will I finally have some peace from this longing for distant places and new experiences?

PYRAMID HILL, 10.2.48, Tues

Another difficult day — all sorts of men were barging around today.  First of all the boss arrived, and after he left the head of the employment ministry visited us.   He watched us working for a short while, then asked us if we are happy with the boss and our working conditions, and if we had any complaints.  What is there to complain about?  About the job?  But you have to work wherever you are!  About the sun?  That won’t make it any cooler!  We had no complaints.  He gave us his address and left with the boss who had just returned.  In the afternoon I went to work near the compressor — another change of job.  That doesn’t matter, though it shook my hands a lot and the sound was deafening.  The boss said he would let the work be done on piecework but the big question is, whether we would accept his conditions.

PYRAMID HILL, 14.2.48, Sat

I’ve hoped for rain for a long time, and finally it’s here — this afternoon it began raining in earnest.  The day was pleasant, but unlucky for me — driving into town this morning I didn’t notice the sharp turn across the bridge and as the car turned sharply I felt myself start to fly. I could no longer hold onto Edgars’ shoulders, and didn’t dare to hold onto the rail, for both of my legs were already out of the car and I could have fallen under the wheels.*  

I tried to save the situation somehow by leaping as far as I could out of the car and in this way avoid the wheels.   I hit the road first with my shoulder, then with my head; I turned a half somersault and lay still.  My friends rushed over immediately, took off their jackets and lifted me on top of them, where I remained for about five minutes.  I lay there with stars spinning in front of my eyes, feeling terrible.  I recovered a little, then climbed back into the car and they drove me to the doctor.

I started feeling a lot better while we waited and almost felt I didn’t need to see him after all.  He didn’t do anything much, either, except ask me to lift my arms and legs, examine my head and put a plaster on the scrape.  Then we went to Naschke’s** place and I rested on the bed.  Everyone came to see me in turn, to see if I was feeling better; even the foreman came to visit me and Mary brought me some coffee and cake, but just then I couldn’t eat a thing.   After about an hour I got up, and we drove home.  I don’t feel any particular pain, it’s just that my head aches, and it feels as if every part of my body is broken.

Cafe businesses including Naschke's were on the site of what is now the Lions Park in
Pyramid Hill; the building they were in, at 9 Kelly Street, was demolished in the 1960s
and replaced by the Park in the 1970s, but the remaining buildings show
what could have been the style of Naschke's

Source:  Google Street View

PYRAMID HILL, 13.3.48, Sat

It’s Saturday again, and once more I drove into town to do some shopping.  While I was there I also went to the dentist about my aching tooth, but he was booked out, and told me to go to the hospital at eleven on Monday. I finished the shopping and returned home around one.  The Australian, Kevin, and the friend of his who became legless at our house that time, were there.  They had lunch with us and all the while egged us on to go to the dance.  Finally Vik and I gave in, and lifted our bicycles and ourselves into the vehicle.

Because it was our first time at a dance in Australia, we went into the pub first and fortified ourselves with beer for one and a half hours, until the pub closed.  Outside on the street we were discussing what to do next, when suddenly some ridiculous communist latched onto us and began spouting about exploitation and who knows what else.  We didn’t want to talk to him and turned our backs, but he forced himself into our company and shoved one of our new friends.  There was nothing to do but shove him back, and this started a brawl that lasted several minutes, the result of which was that the communist left with a large bump on his head and a split, bleeding ear.

"The pub" was the Victoria Hotel, run by members of the Kelly family from 1907 to 1951: 
after the original building burnt down in 1926, this one was erected in 1928

Source:  Melbourne Playgrounds, Pyramid Hill Historical Plaques Walk

The rest of us were all right, and we went to Naschke’s for dinner.  After that we went to Kevin’s house, where I collected my wine bottle and the others collected theirs, then we headed off to the dance hall.  We fortified ourselves again on the way, and only got to the hall just as the dancing was beginning. All the dances are quite different to what I’m used to, but I made an attempt anyway, and it turned out fairly well. The dance came to an end, and with that ended also this pleasantly spent day.  We found our bicycles and rode home. B y Wednesday I’ll have to learn these Australian dances somehow, then it will be more fun.

PYRAMID HILL, 15.3.48, Mon

Today I only worked until ten, then went into town to have my decayed tooth extracted.  In the hospital I was shown to a bed, half covered with a white blanket, with a white napkin resting on my chest, and the dentist got to work.  First of all he poured a numbing liquid on my gums and allowed it five minutes to work, then he got to work with the pliers and began marvelling at how strong my tooth is.  The pain became unbearable, even the dentist could see that, and again he tried to numb the tooth and gave me five minutes peace.

But this time he had little result and the pain was even worse.  Then he prepared some anaesthetic and jabbed a big needle in my vein, asking me to count.  Gradually everything went misty, my pain disappeared and on the count of seventeen I sank into unconsciousness.  When I woke again the tooth was out and the clock showed two-thirty, so I’d spent three whole hours in a narcotic sleep.  My head was dull, my vision foggy and my legs staggered when I come out of the hospital.  Overall it felt as if I’d drunk a large amount of alcohol.

I visited Naschke, where instantly all the women gathered around and as usual we started to joke around.  Finally he even began to teach me how to dance and so we occupied an hour or so.  My head cleared a little, and I realised that it was time to go back.   Slowly I staggered back to the quarry and saw that I’d arrived just in time to go home.  Today I only worked a few hours, but all my bones were weary.  When I got home I swallowed a few tablets and went to bed straight away.

PYRAMID HILL, 16.3.48, Tues

I slept until midday, but even so my head is dull, and my bones still weary.  The place my tooth was, is burning all the time.  I sat at the table to update my diary — finally my Bonegilla writing job is over, and I’ll have more time to do other things.  This evening, when we’d all returned from work, a familiar car pulled up outside the house and into the room came the boss.  He’s brought a rifle for me, now I’ll be able to shoot those damned sparrows.

PYRAMID HILL, 17.3.48, Wed

As soon as I got home from work I started getting ready for the dance.  Vik and I went into town an hour or so early and for something to do, explored the city streets.  We saw a lot of women, almost all in long dresses down to the ground, so I started worrying that it would be very easy to tread on these skirts if you didn’t know how to dance very well.

We went to Naschke’s and joked around with the women.  Finally we even went into another room and began learning Australian dances to piano music.  While I was doing this, the heel of my shoe came off and I began to hit it on again. A fter many tries I succeeded and we went to the hall, where dancing was already in full swing.  Of course, I couldn’t resist and I danced many times with the Australians in their long dresses so unfamiliar to me.  My mended heel held very well and didn’t break again until right at the end, around two in the morning.  That was no great problem now — I simply put it into my pocket and we left.

I didn’t fall into bed until three, but the day was well spent, and tomorrow’s early rising for work wouldn’t present any great difficulty.  I wonder why my gum, where the tooth was extracted, still aches so much after all this time?

PYRAMID HILL, 21.3.48, Sun

I don’t know what’s happening with my tooth, it’s still unbearably painful, even though it’s been a whole week since my “operation”.  Finally I took two mirrors and had a look at it. In the gap in my gum I saw something white and thought it must be pus, but when I poked it with a match, it turned out to be bone.   And why wouldn’t my tooth still ache, when the dentist has only removed half of it, and now the remaining half is grieving for the missing half?  So the dentist has left two roots behind and in the hole itself two moving fragments of bone, very painful.  I’ll have to go back to the dentist on Monday, so he can finish his “operation”.

After lunch we went swimming and on the way back rode into town.  There we saw almost no one, for it’s Sunday.  It’s a very strange custom — as soon as Sunday arrives, everywhere it’s peaceful and quiet, and the streets are empty.  We quickly tired of such boredom, sat back on our bicycles and rode home.  My tooth aches and it’s very unpleasant thinking that tomorrow I’ll have to let the dentist mess around with it again.  But what else can I do, it’s better to bear a short intense pain, than suffer all the time.

PYRAMID HILL, 22.3.48, Mon

After lunch I went straight to the dentist.  He lay me down in bed and poked around the remaining tooth root a little, but that was all, and asked me to come back after the holiday, when the root will have loosened up more.  Spitting out and swearing to myself I returned to the quarries.  The tooth root has been poked around and is very painful, but this “dentist” hasn’t given me any medicine for it.

PYRAMID HILL, 25.3.48, Thurs

Today a surprise awaited me at work, sprung on me by Reinis in the form of a blue envelope sent from Germany.  With it I found two other letters with Russian postmarks and stamps, and suddenly something inexpressible seized my whole body.  Who knows, perhaps it was happiness, which washed my body in strange excitement, and made these callused hands tremble?  Both letters were addressed to Alt-Garge, and were from Ausma.  

Like a dense black cloud I was overtaken with memories of the long-ago happy days in my homeland, which Destiny allowed me to spend with Ausma, that lovely northern girl.  Although I only met her twice, many years ago, I have pleasant memories of her.  The letters contain only a small fairytale about us both, but they gave me much joy and warmed my soul.  As soon as I came home I took my pen in hand to reply to my lass from home.  What will she say, when she discovers I’ve reached such a distant foreign world?

FOOTNOTES

* "Edgar's shoulders" belonged to fellow Latvian, Edgars Osis.

** "Bill Naschke was the owner of a cafe selling ice cream, sweets, soft drinks in the town of Pyramid Hill, and also provided some meals," wrote Ern Ferris, then Secretary of the Pyramid Hill and District Historical Society, in June 1999 to Monika.  Ern wrote that he was born in Pyramid Hill in 1923, so could remember the arrival of the Baltic quarry workers.

SOURCE

Melbourne Playgrounds, Pyramid Hill Historicaal Plaquest Walk, https://www.melbourneplaygrounds.com.au/pyramid-hill-historical-plaques-walk, accessed 23 February 2026.

Vaclavs Kozlovskis starts work at Pyramid Hill, 8-31 January 1948, translated by Monika Kozlovskis

PYRAMID HILL, 8.1.49, Thurs 

This morning we looked over the quarries, our new workplace. We were quite surprised to see only five Australians working here; apparently it’s not a desirable job.  Work is carried out in two areas - the rock quarry and the sand quarry, where we’ll be working alone.

In the rock quarry holes are bored in the rock with a compressor, then filled with explosives.  The large rocks are always exploded, but the small ones are hit with a hammer into pieces to fit into the crusher.  These pieces are tipped into trucks with some sort of digger, and driven to the crusher. 

Drilling a hole into the granite, Pyramid Hill

Source:  Collection of Vaclavs Kozlovskis

In the other place, where for the time being we three Letts* will work, sand is poured into the trucks without the help of a of digger, and by our hands alone.  This sand is ground up with the rock, then carted away to be tipped out where a road is being built, about thirty miles from here.

Afterwards we drove into town, where the boss gave us an advance to buy the necessary clothes, as well as two pounds each for various other trifles.   He also gave us two pounds of tobacco, for it’s difficult to obtain here.

After lunch we changed into our work clothes and drove off to begin our labouring job. The boss himself is pleasant, but not so pleasant is the job.

For four hours we poured sand into trucks, and for four hours we scorched mercilessly in the hot sun; this is no longer just work, it is punishment.  Soon our hands were covered in blisters of unhappiness and protest, and our muscles in pain.

Worst of all, I’d left my water at home so I had to work with a dry throat and get by without a drink, for there’s no water here.

Finally the work hours were over, and we looked for some water to wash in.  Near the quarry there is a pond full of brown water in a gravel pit.  Not worrying overmuch about the leeches and abundant tadpoles we jumped straight in.  It’s amazing how cool this chest-deep water was,  it greatly refreshed us and took out the tiredness put there by the sun.

Our first work day over, we drove home.

PYRAMID HILL, 9.1.48, Fri 

On our second day of work we began throwing sand into the trucks from the morning on, the blisters on our hands becoming more and more unbearable.  We worked hard until lunchtime and it even seemed that we weren’t overly tired, but the picture was quite different that afternoon: on throwing the first shovelful tears almost came into my eyes, from the pain in my muscles and blisters.

We could no longer work as hard or fast as we had in the morning.  The four hours crawled past slowly, we could hardly wait to leave.  I was weary as never before.  My blisters hurt, my arm and stomach muscles ached, and so did even my sunburned back. This job is really terrible; only one year, and not one minute more!

PYRAMID HILL, 11.1.48, Sun 

We went to church. It’s a long time since I’ve been in this quiet place.  Nothing is different here, everything is familiar, even the pictures are the same as in the church in Latvia. T he priest’s robes are quite the same that the priest wore in my distant homeland, and it even seemed to me that the grey-haired priest himself, Father O’Connor, was one and the same, except that he spoke a different, more difficult to understand language.

For about half an hour he spoke of the eight hundred Balts who have come to this country, of our lost homeland, and of we seven, who have come to the quarries.  I listened and marvelled — are we really as good as the priest says?  He said we are pleasant and hardworking, and good Catholics.  The priest said even more, but I don’t know the language well enough to understand it all.  The mass was over, we came out of the church and drove home.

PYRAMID HILL, 13.1.48, Tues 

Another work day, and another bone-weary drive home.  I still had dinner to prepare for us all as it was my turn.  Yesterday I caught some rabbits and penned them up to fatten up for Saturday, but today I let them go again, after all they might drop dead because they haven’t touched their food yet.  Late at night, completely exhausted, I went to sleep.

PYRAMID HILL, 14.1.48, Wed 

Today things turned out a little better.  We were very productive in the morning, but to make up for it we had more of a rest in the afternoon. T o begin with, half way back from lunch the truck broke down and we had to walk the rest of the way.  The truck was fixed and returned, but when a driver wanted to use it for sand pouring, it broke down again and wouldn’t budge.

So this afternoon we worked with only a small vehicle.  But despite our frequent rests, coming home I was even more tired than before. I  didn’t feel like doing anything, so I went to bed straight after dinner, even though it was only seven o’clock.

One of the trucks, with its driver, maybe 3 Letts and a ring-in,
probably a Lithuanian or Australian

Source:  Collection of Vaclavs Kozlovskis

PYRAMID HILL, 20.1.48, Tues 

This was a really terrible day.  Yesterday afternoon we moved to the rock quarry, and today we worked there all day.  There wasn’t a breath of wind and the sun scorched down, little water blisters forming on our skins from the heat.

I drank a lot of water, but it was warm, and instantly converted into sweat.  Wherever I put my hand, my body became wet straight away, and perspiration dripped in large drops from my hair.  Finally work was over, but we still had to go into town for some bread.

A fire was raging there — the whole street was full of women standing beside belongings that had been carried out of their houses, and the men, thoroughly soaked, were attempting to put the fire out.  After we’d helped to extinguish the fire we took our bread, prised the driver out of the pub, and drove home.

Although it’s night, there’s still no relief from the bone-wearying sun’s heat.  I tried to sit outside, but a hot northerly wind is blowing.  It will be a miracle if I can sleep tonight.

PYRAMID HILL, 22.1.48, Thurs 

This is the worst day I’ve endured here — I couldn’t sleep at all last night and it’s already hot this morning.  Through the day perspiration poured down even when standing completely still, and on top of that we had to work!  My arms tired quickly and my glance moved all too often to my watch. I n the morning the watch hands seemed to move a little, but in the afternoon they even seemed to be moving backwards.

Finally, though, even this hot day reached its end and we drove home completely exhausted.  I went to bed straight after dinner, but it was too hot to fall asleep even sleeping completely naked on top of the blankets.  Suddenly it began to rain and the wind changed, and it cooled down straight away.  I crawled under the blankets and fell deeply asleep.

Vaclavs added these newspaper cuttings to his page on 22 January 1948;
all except the top left are from the Argus, Melbourne, 23 January 1948 

Source:  Collection of Vaclavs Kozlovskis

PYRAMID HILL, 22.1.48, Wed (sic) 

The boss showed up, and from morning his car was parked by the crusher.  The first thing we found out about was the change in our workplace — now the digger would be sent to the sand quarry, and the diggers themselves moved to rock loading.  When the boss arrived he said various things as well.  He said that several of us work well, but others don’t.  The wage we are paid is high, therefore we need to show good progress — the government can’t carry people who don’t do anything.  We’re not in forced labour, but work for our own wage, which is comparatively high, therefore we have to work hard, he said.

This year we will have two week’s holiday around Christmas.  By early February a barracks will be completed for us right here at the quarry and we won’t have to travel so far to go to work.

Petrol is rationed and expensive — each time we are driven into the town on Saturday or Sunday it costs one whole pound.

In fact I would prefer to live at the quarry, for then the town would be close by and we could easily go there whenever we wanted to, and we would no longer have to live in the jungles, where only quite rarely some seventeenth century limousine drives past, entirely without tyres.  Also at lunchtime we wouldn’t have to get in a car every day to drive into town, so we could spend more time resting.

The boss added that on rainy days when it’s too wet to work in the quarries, we still have to show that we’re willing to work and go to the workplace.  In this case we will still be paid whether we work under shelter or sit there all day and do nothing.  That’s all the boss said, the rest returned to work, while I accompanied him to translate to the tall Estonian who works on the trucks.

The tall—and only—Estonian was Lembit Koplus, whose Bonegilla card says that he was 6 ft 3 in or 190 cm tall; note that his two "boxing" companions are standing slightly in front of him
to increase the emphasis on his height, and it looks they are still in their pyjamas

Source:  Collection of Vaclavs Kozlovskis

Now I understood where the boss’s reprimand was aimed — apparently the Estonian is the worst of all.  It seems he often sits and smokes, holding up the trucks with their loads.

Towards evening the boss left to return to Melbourne, so we’ll have some peace again for the next fourteen days.

PYRAMID HILL, 27.1.48, Tues 

Yesterday the drivers had a booze-up, and today they had hangovers so they couldn’t work all day.  The morning passed unusually quickly, and we worked in the shade almost all the time.  We rested after each truckload, until the driver finally got around to exchanging a full truck for an empty one. The afternoon was much hotter, but the work wasn’t heavy at all, for again we rested after each truckload.

I discovered how poor provincial towns such as this must be — I tried to buy sixteen pounds of sugar, but the shopkeeper’s eyes just widened when I asked him for it.  He merely said ‘too short’, and weighed out eight pounds instead.  Who knows, perhaps his shop only carries some twenty pounds of sugar at once?  In the early evening there was a small rain shower, but despite this I was perspiring when I went to bed and tried to sleep.

PYRAMID HILL, 31.1.48, Sat 

First thing in the morning we began our preparations to celebrate our first pay packets. I’d brewed some beer, bought wine and invited all six of the quarry drivers, but whether any of them would show up, remained to be seen.

Around nine thirty the car arrived to drive us into town.  We bought glasses, pickles and all the other necessities for our party, and then waited as usual for the driver to finish his beer.

After a long wait we gave up and went into the pub ourselves to drink beer and toss quoits, as the Australians do.  We discovered that the pub has no tables or even chairs. In the middle of the room is a round bar in the centre of which the publican works, and around which were gathered almost all the men of Pyramid, drinking beer.  In this way they can forget the week’s sweat, and begin work next week with an empty pocket.

Only cold beer is drunk here, other drinks are neither suitable nor valued in this heat. We managed to get the driver out of the pub and drove home, where we put the table in order and began our wait.

We waited from five to six, but no one came.  At seven we decided to start drinking, but had only polished off two bottles of wine and several of beer, when suddenly a truck drove up with two of the drivers and two friends.

Now we let fly in earnest, until one of them fell into a drunken stupor and the others carried him into the truck.

We drank a bit more, then the others prepared to leave.  Only then did they discover that the headlights weren’t working, but this was soon remedied — two of our hurricane lanterns were hung on the car, and they drove off slowly and carefully.

Then we climbed into bed as well, and peace descended over the house.

FOOTNOTE

* Lett is another word for Latvian.  Besides Vaclavs, the other two were Persijs Arndts and Edgars Osis.

CITE THIS AS:  Kozlovskis, Vaclavs, trans by Monika Kozlovskis (2026) 'Vaclavs Kozlovskis starts work at Pyramid Hill, 8-31 January 1948', https://firsttransport.blogspot.com/2026/01/vaclavs-kozlovskis-starts-work-at-Pyramid-Hill-Victoria-8-31-January-1948.html.

Vaclavs Kozlovskis sets off to work, from 3 January 1948, translated by Monika Kozlovskis with Janis Sakurovs

Updated 15 August 2025.

BONEGILLA, 3.1.48, Sat. A man from the employment department spoke to us in the big hall about our work, and answered questions. It turns out that we’ve been a little deceived - in Germany we were told that we would have to work for one year in a place nominated by the government, and suddenly this one year has doubled.

He pointed out that we signed an agreement specifying we would work in such a job for “at least one year”, and that by Australian law that means two years. If that’s so, that means that “at least one” can become even ten years; they’re simply having us on.

When this was revealed, the entire hall erupted in whistles and uproar, and the speaker hurried to clarify that after the first year we could change our workplaces with the permission of the employment ministry, but he didn’t say if we would be able to get this permission.*

Everyone was very upset and promised to stop work after one year. I intend to do so as well; I won’t let them lead me up the garden path. If I’ve signed up for one year, then I will work for only one, and that’s that!

This afternoon a notice was put up in the employment office, notifying the first work nominations, and my name was amongst them as well. It goes as follows:

1. Anglo Nestles Milk Co, Maffra, Victoria - 10,

2. CJ Row Webb & Anderson, Victoria - 10,

3. Moe Brown Coal, State Electricity Comm. Yallourn, Victoria - 50

4. Masonite Co, NSW - 25

5. State Saw Mills, Perth, West Australia - 10

6. Pyramid Hill Quarries, Victoria - 7

7. South Australian Salt Ltd, Victoria - 10

8. Cheetham Salt Works, Victoria - 10

9. Flax Production Committee, Melbourne - 20

10. Ocean Salt Pty Ltd, South Australia - 6

11. State electricity trust Kiewa, Victoria - 25

12. Dept of Woods and Forests South Australia - 33

13. Miller’s Timber and Trading coy. Ltd. Perth - 10

14. Brunning Bros Perth - 10

15. Australian News Print ltd. Tasmania - 12

16. South Australian Railways South Australia - 65

17. Engineering and Water Supply South Australia - 65

18. Electrolytic zinc Co Tasmania - 12

19. Various Employers, not yet determined, NSW - 105

Vaclavs added this newspaper clipping to his diary

Source:  The Argus, Melbourne, 5 January 1948, p 3

The remainder, who haven’t been allocated to a group, will go to pick fruit, and won’t be placed in a permanent job for four to six weeks. My name was amongst the seven going to the rock quarry.

I don’t know what sort of job awaits me there, but I have peace of mind - I’ll be free at last from the crowd; we are three Latvians, 3 Lithuanians and one Estonian. The only unpleasant aspect is the doubling of the work year, but somehow I’ll get through this unexpected complication.

BONEGILLA, 4.1.48, Sun. Strange indeed is a person’s fate - you live and reach for your aims, when suddenly a completely unexpected wave of Fate’s hands occurs, and you can no longer appreciate the beauty of nature.

Today at Albury the blonde Lithuanian Vasilauskas drowned. I shared a cabin on the Heinzelman with him, and we sometimes partied together. Could this agreeable lad ever have imagined, that he would travel to Australia only to drown?

He was chest deep in the water, and suddenly suffered a stroke and drowned. It’s a pity about the young lad, did he really have to go just at the moment that his new life was beginning, after suffering the hardships and horrors of war-torn Europe?***

BONEGILLA, 6.1.48, Tues. Now soon our pleasant holiday will be over and we will have to start working. My name was announced over the loudspeaker this morning — tomorrow I will have to travel to Pyramid Hill, my new workplace.

I went to the office straight away to fill in the required form, then received a hat, pyjamas, coupons and five shillings; early tomorrow morning we’ll begin the two-hundred-mile bus journey.

BONEGILLA, 7.1.48, Wed. I woke at six-twenty, got ready straight away, handed back my bed linen, then carried my belongings to the loudspeaker. All seven of us ate breakfast, then sat in a small car. We drove to Albury, then we handed over our baggage and sat in the bus.

Bonegilla’s representative farewelled us, signalling the end of our carefree relaxation. Now, embarking on this journey, I’m also embarking on my own life; I’ll earn my own wages, and pay for everything myself. I’ve never lived that sort of life before, will I be able to adjust?

Finally the time has come when I can be my own master and ruler of my own destiny, when I can earn my own bread, and not have to be grateful for the crumbs thrown to me by others, and I will no longer have to burden any charitable institution.

After two hundred miles we reached Cohuna town, where the boss of the quarry came to meet us. We drove a further thirty miles in his car, then we were at our new home. The boss seems a very nice person, and he’d made some preparations for us.

The modern road trip westwards from Bonegilla camp in the east
to Cohuna and Pyramid Hill town takes nearly four hours;
the 1948 bus trip must have taken a hour or two longer on poor roads

Source:  Google Maps

We stopped in front of the farmhouse hired for us, where we’re sharing two rooms. Each man has his own bed, mattress, three blankets and a chair. Apart from these two rooms we also have a bathroom with a bath, a dining room and a kitchen with various utensils as new as if they’ve only just been brought back from the shop, still with the labels on them.

The kitchen table had a pile of food on it, for which we will pay at the end of the month. Food is the only thing we have to pay for ourselves, the house and contents we can use for free. The house even has a telephone, although there’s no electricity - we have to get by with petrol lamps.

The house itself, like all the others in Australia, is very lightly built and consists of only one layer of bricks. The wind blows through the cracks in the walls and floor, but in this heat such ventilation is quite pleasant.

All around our “castle” stretches a field covered in yellow grass. The soil is hard and red; it’s a miracle anything can grow in it. The groundwater, as can be seen from the ponds to water the sheep, is full of mud and the colour of cocoa. That certainly isn’t useable, and our own drinking water is collected in quite a novel way: At the end of the house stand two iron tanks that collect the rainwater from the roof. So, as it happens, we drink roofwater, but I can’t say that it tastes bad. The only thing is that in hot weather it’s warm and unrefreshing, but after all, what water is any good when it’s warm?

The house is five miles from our workplace and six from the nearest town, Pyramid, with its population of four hundred. We’ll eat lunch there in some restaurant, and prepare our own breakfast and dinner at home. We’ll be driven to and from work, and also into the town, even on Saturdays and Sundays, whenever we wish. Our wage is three shillings and threepence for every hour we work.

Everything sounds good so far. We’ll see how it is when we start work.

FOOTNOTES

*  For corroboration of the reception of the news that the contracted work period had been doubled, see Endrius Jankus' report for 20 December 1947.  The difference in dates might be due to Endrius report being based on notes rather than a diary, like that of Vaclavs.  It's also possible that the Latvians like Vaclavs were told separately and later than the Lithuanians, although we might expect such news to travel from one national group to the next via their common German language.

Also, Endrius writes that, "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."  The few days later might have been 3 January, although that actually is 14 days later.

Of the two reports, perhaps Vaclavs should be favoured as far as the date is concerned since it comes from a diary apparently kept on a daily basis.  Regardless of the date, both reports tell us how upset the men (and probably women) were.

Dr Crossley, by the way, was the German-speaking academic who had organised the English language teachers for the First Transport passengers while they waited in the Bonegilla camp for the assignments announced above.

** The numbers in the employment office notice add up to 495, while there were 727 men in the camp, 726 after the drowning of Aleksandras Vasiliauskas.  Did the difference, 231, go fruit-picking?  No.  From a count of the Bonegilla cards, it was only 185.

That leaves 46 apparently at a loose end.  What isn't mentioned above is that 41 men were known, from the Bonegilla cards, to have been continuing employment in the Bonegilla camp, as kitchen hands, drivers, labourers and the like.  As for remaining 5,  maybe the numbers sent to different employers differed, in the longer run, from the numbers on the 3 January list.  We shall have to see.

*** For a detailed report on the drowning death of Aleksandras Vasilauskas, please see https://firsttransport.blogspot.com/2021/04/aleksandras-vasiliauskas-lithuanian-drowned.html.

**** The diary appears not have been kept on 1-2 January 1948.  Too busy celebrating the start of his first full year in Australia?