Endrius Jankus (1929-2014): From Sea Scout to Mining Engineer by Ann Tündern-Smith

Updated on 23 September 2024, 30 April 2024 and 11 April 2023

The most recent 7 entries in this blog were Endrius Jankus' recollections of his arrival in Port Melbourne and his stay at the Bonegilla Migrant Reception and Training Centre.  Now let's find out more about the author himself, starting with his important grandfather.

Martynas Jankus (1858 – 1946) was known, even in his lifetime, as ‘the Patriarch of Lithuania Minor’. This was a part of Prussia with a Lithuanian-majority population. From 1871 it had been part of a unified Germany. On the Baltic Sea, with Lithuania to the north and east and modern Poland to the south, it included what is now Russia’s Kaliningrad enclave.* 

Self-educated after primary school, Martynas became a printer of Lithuanian-language books, often their first publisher. He was one of the publishers of Aušra (Dawn), the first Lithuanian-language newspaper, and a number of other periodicals. As one of 24 signatories of the 1918 Act of Tilsit, he demanded the unification of Lithuania Minor with the rest of Lithuania, which led to the persecution of some signatories when Nazi Germany invaded during WWII. He was a member of the State Council of Lithuania, the law-making body between 1928 and 1940.**

Martynas Jankus in the United States, 1926

Source:  Wikipedia

During the Nazi occupation, Martynas was banned from giving public speeches. In 1944, he was forced to evacuate to Germany by the Nazis. He died in Flensburg, northern Germany, one year after the end of WWII. He had told his oldest daughter that he wanted to be cremated so that his ashes could be returned to his homeland after independence.

This major figure in the development of modern Lithuania was the grandfather of one of the First Transporters, Endrius Jankus. Born in Draverna, Lithuania, on 7 July 1929, to Martinas (sometimes also known as Martynas, like his father) and Ane Jankus, Endrius was the youngest of three children. He knew his grandfather well, having grown up in the village of Bitėnai, where his grandfather had his printing press.

After the Soviet Army invaded Lithuania in June 1940, Endrius’ father was fired from his job. Learning that the family had been on a list for deportation to Siberia, they left by train for the comparative safety of Germany ahead of the second Soviet invasion in 1944.

The older Martynas and his family had experienced deportation to Siberia already, after Tsarist Russia occupied their part of Lithuania in 1914. It was there that Martynas’ father, Endrius’ great grandfather, and Martynas' youngest son, Andrius, Endrius’ uncle, had died.

In Germany, the family found refuge in the Flensburg Displaced Persons camp, where the Patriarch of Lithuania Minor died in 1946. Flensburg was in the British Zone of Occupation, meaning that daily life there was much tougher there than in the American Zone: the British were suffering post-War privations at home too. As a young man living in these harsh conditions, Endrius saw the need to seek further refuge in a country where life seemed more certain. He applied to move to Australia as soon as the opportunity came up.

Endrius in the uniform of a Lithuanian Sea Scout on 10 September 1947,
in Flensburg, one month before the opportunity to migrate to Australia came

Source: limis.lt

At the age of 18, he set out for Australia alone from Germany, one year after his grandfather’s death. By then, he had completed his secondary education at a gymnasium or high school for Lithuanians in Germany.***

There is more detail of his early life in Lithuania in a couple of online obituaries, at Voruta.lt and Silaine.lt (both in Lithuanian). The Voruta tribute is wrong, however, in declaring that with Endrius’ death, the male line of Martynas’ family had ended forever. While Endrius' son, Martin, sadly had predeceased him in 2008 at the early age of 44, Martin had a son who is a member of the Facebook community of Heintzelman family members and friends.

Endrius kept a diary of his journey, from at least the day of arrival in Port Melbourne on the Kanimbla, 7 December 1947, until he was sent to work in Tasmania on 18 March 1948. He used this diary as the basis for writing a memoir of the period, which he sent to me in 2012. Due to its length, I have split it into the 7 entries immediately preceding this one in this blog. It gives an insight into life in Bonegilla, particularly for the Lithuanian men who were half the passengers on the Heintzelman and Kanimbla, which I have yet to find elsewhere. 

He stayed in the Bonegilla Migrant Reception and Training Centre for more than 6 weeks until sent with a group to pick pears in an orchard at Ardmona in Victoria. The fruit-picking experience lasted a bit over 6 weeks. The group then returned to the Bonegilla camp for their next work assignment.

The 'Bonegilla card' for Endrius shows his father still in Flensburg and
Endrius' early employment in Australia

Source:  NAA

Endrius’ ‘Bonegilla card’ records this as more fruit picking in Tasmania from 18 March, 5 days after the return to Bonegilla. He stayed there for a short time only, since his own record of his residence outside Bonegilla on his application for Australian citizenship records the first place as Railton, Tasmania, from 23 March. Railton was the home of the Goliath Portland Cement Company, where Endrius had been sent to work, probably as soon as the fruit picking finished.****

He was at Railton for more than 11 months. The application for citizenship lists further addresses: Melbourne, Victoria, next for more than 5 months; back to Tasmania, Hobart this time, for the next two months; then Storey’s Creek from October 1949 to October 1950. There he worked for the Storey’s Creek Tin Mining Co (NL).  By the time he completed his application for citizenship in January 1953, he was living in Hobart and had been working for the Hydro-Electric Commission in Moonah as a 'diesel engineer' for 10 months.  When I visited him and his wife in September 2009, he was living out of Hobart with a beautiful River Derwent view, at Sandford.

An earlier Declaration of Intention to Apply for Citizenship was signed on 29 December 1949, a little over two years after Endrius’ arrival in Australia but three years before he would become eligible. He stated a motivation for applying so early. ‘I would like to visit my auntie in England who is my only relative living in 1953/54 for 5 months.’  This would have been stretching the truth a bit.  His parents may still have been alive and his older sister, Ieva (1924–2014), definitely was.  The statement was repeated in similar words on the January 1953 application.

In the end, his grant of citizenship was notified in a Commonwealth Government Gazette dated 16 July 1953. His receipt of his citizenship certificate was an occasion of great rejoicing, since it was part of a celebration of the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II and the opening of Tasmania’s Pine Tier Dam. The whole event merited nearly half a page of reporting and photography in the Hobart Mercury newspaper of 3 June 1953.

Endrius was next in the news some 15 years later when the Good Neighbour, a monthly newsletter from the Department of Immigration, headlined his story, ‘Former Lithuanian set task of moving half an island’. At this stage, he was known as Christopher, based on his middle name, Kristups. He was running his own excavation company, employing 12 men. Its name, Explosives Engineering, is still in use by a Tasmanian company but whether this is the firm founded by Endrius is an open question.

'Christopher' Jankus at work, 1968

Source:  NAA

The Good Neighbour reported that he had worked on the Trevallyn power station, the Butlers Gorge power scheme and the Wayatinah power station, all in Tasmania, and the Snowy Mountains hydroelectric scheme in New South Wales. Overseas, he had been involved in Niagara Falls power stations in Canada and construction of early warning radar stations in Alaska.

As for the half of an island he was to move, it blocked the mouth of the Tamar River to larger ships which otherwise could use the Bell Bay wharves in Launceston. Garden Island was 10 acres in size: Endrius’ task was to move 5 acres from the eastern side for land reclamation on the western side.

While single at the time of his citizenship ceremony, he advised the Good Neighbour that, “My travelling days are over. The family is keeping a pretty tight rein on me.” He had married Rosemary and they had three children, Linda, Martin and Maryanne.

A 1996 family portrait:  front row (L-R) Endrius, daughter Maryanne with her daughter, Megan, wife Rosemary; back row (L-R) son Martin with his wife, Kelly,
and daughter Linda with her husband, Steven.

Source:  Voruta, 30 August 2014, No. 12 (802)

The obituaries record that he had gone to Perth to study mining engineering at the Perth Institute of Technology (School of Mines). It seems more likely that he attended the West Australian School of Mines in Kalgoorlie. As Boas notes, this was somewhat in contrast with maritime aspects of his life in Lithuania, like the Sea Scouts. His experiences in helping to mine limestone and tin in Tasmania must have sparked a continuing interest.

According to Boas, Endrius Jankus did leave Australia in 1953, after he received citizenship and an Australian passport. She says that he stated, in answering a questionnaire, he was ‘disillusioned with his situation after the completion of his contract’. Even though the Australian Government thought of him as one of its citizens, ‘We were classed (as) stateless, the perpetual refugees of the world’. She doesn’t record what made him change his mind, but it could be that the UK and Europe in 1953 were even less appealing than Australia. He certainly made a success of himself after his return.

Having re-settled in Tasmania and started a family, he is reported to have said: ‘I didn't instil love for Lithuania in my children, I didn't want them, like me, to be heartbroken over the lost homeland.’ He himself followed events in Lithuania and was more than delighted with the restoration of an independent Lithuanian state in 1991.

As a former Sea Scout, he continued to be active in the Australian Lithuanian community. He wrote historical and polemical articles for Australian and American newspapers, some in English. He financially supported publications about Lithuania Minor and was a patron of the Lithuania Minor Foundation, which promoted his grandfather’s ideas.

Endrius or Andrew Jankus later in life
Source:  Voruta.lt

Martynas Jankus’ wish that his ashes could be buried in a free Bitėnai was overseen by his grandson and the grandson’s sister, Ieva, on 30 May 1993. Endrius visited his birthplace once again, in 1998. Captions in the Voruta tribute imply that he visited also in 1992 and 1994. He believed, along with other Lithuanians, that ‘my homeland is always in me’.

At the burial for Martynas Jankus' ashes in Bitėnai on 30 May 1993 are, left to right,
Algirdas Šarauskas (son of Juozas Šarauskas, chief scout leader of the interwar Lithuanian Scout Union), Endrius Jankus, Laimutė Šarauskaitė (daughter of Juozas Šarauskas)
and Endrius' older sister, Ieva

Source:  Europeana.eu

Endrius died in the Royal Hobart Hospital on 23 July 2014. His remains were cremated also so that he could be buried in the Bitėnai cemetery with members of his family.

Addendum 1

Ramunas Tarvydas' 1997 book, From Amber Coast to Apple Isle, has an explanation of those 5 months and 2 weeks in Melbourne.  On page 32, he writes:

' ... problems arose with the men of the First Transport in regard to the length of their period of contract.  They claimed that in Germany they had signed on for one year only.  If the authorities had changed it to two years while they were on the high seas, the men said that they were not bound by such a change.

'Consequently, after working for a year at Railton, Viknius, Kalytis, Jankus, Vilutis and Stasiukynas decided to leave, despite the wishes of management and the admonitions of the government employment officers from Devonport.  They soon found work in various parts of Melbourne, but were contacted by the Immigration Department, who threatened the five with deportation to Germany if they did not return to Tasmania.  Andrew received the following letter:

'COMMONWEALTH OF AUSTRALIA

DEPARTMENT OF IMMIGRATION,

455 COLLINS STREET,

MELBOURNE, C.1.

1st July 1949

'Dear Sir,

        You are directed to return to Tasmania and report to the Commonwealth Employment Officer within seven (7) days.

        You are reminded of your obligations to only accept employment as directed.

        Failure to obey this instruction will be viewed seriously and action will be taken for your deportation.

                                                                Yours faithfully,

                                                                         (signed) J Raftis

                                                                         for Commonwealth Migration Officer

'Andrew went to see the immigration authorities in Melbourne, and argued his case.  The officer became annoyed and threatened Andrew with the infamous Foreign Language Reading Test; the test could be in any language, so that if the authorities really wanted to deport Andrew and his accomplices, they could have given him a test in Mandarin or any other language "foreign" to him!

'Jankus and Viknius returned to Tasmania, but were not sent back to Railton.'  

Addendum 2

BBC Travel on 17 September 2024 published an article on 'Panemunė:  The scenic road that saved Europe's banned language'.  The banned language was Lithuanian and the author was Eglė Gerulaitytė.  She wrote that the Tsarist authorities during 1865 to 1904 had banned any publications in Lithuanian, expecting this to result in Russification.  

The ban had the opposite effect, leading to the smuggling of more than 40,000 publications annually into Lithuania.  They were produced by Lithuanians in what was then East Prussia as well as the emigrant community in the United States.  The Wikipedia article on Martynas Jankus notes that he was one of the suppliers for the smugglers.

I thank Jonas Mockunas and Daina Pocius for their assistance in the preparation of this article.

 

Footnotes

* More on Lithuania Minor can be found at https://www.draugas.org/news/lithuanian-minor-cradle-of-lithuanian-culture/.  

** The Lithuanian National Museum of Art, ‘Lithuanian Integral Museum Information System Virtual Exhibitions: Homeland is Always in Me’, https://www.limis.lt/en/virtualios-parodos/-/virtualExhibitions/view/151059, accessed 2 May 2021; Wikipedia, ‘Martynas Jankus’, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martynas_Jankus, accessed 1 May 2023. There is a short video of a Kaunas monument to Martynas Janus at https://depositphotos.com/video/monument-of-martynas-jankus-kaunas-lithuania-martynas-jankus-or-martin-jankus-was-prussian-lithuanian-printer-128457826.html accessed 30 April 2024.

*** See here for more information on the education system which the Lithuanian Displaced Persons set up in Germany.

**** We know from Erika Boas (below) that the place in Tasmania where Endrius picked fruit was Huonville and can guess that he was helping to harvest an apple crop. Background to the Goliath Portland Cement Company at Railton, Tasmania can be found here.

Sources

Boas, Erika (1999) ‘Leading Dual Lives’, Lithuanian Displaced Persons in Tasmania, BA (Hons) thesis, University of Tasmania, https://eprints.utas.edu.au/7913/, accessed 12 January 2023.

‘Bronte Park Town of Pageantry in Tasmania's Most Colourful Coronation Rejoicing’ (1953) Mercury, Hobart, 3 June, p 9, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article27149957, accessed 16 January 2023.

'Certificates of Naturalization' (1953) Commonwealth of Australia Gazette, 16 July, p 1977, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article232810367, accessed 16 January 2023.

‘Former Lithuanian set task of moving half an island’ (1968) Good Neighbour, 1 November, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article17653211, accessed 16 January 2023.

Gerulaitytė, Eglė (2024) 'Panemunė:  The scenic road that saved Europe's banned language' https://www.bbc.com/travel/article/20240917-panemune-the-scenic-road-that-saved-europes-banned-language?fbclid=IwY2xjawFccgxleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHZyX3bj-m4EYMmzZEN9IQ8Uu1dFnHJMlo2bbo6QlJlL9SAq1DfGJZjwkmg_aem_73PKb1RiIWd1S167kZY7YQ, accessed 24 September 2024.

'Jankuviene Ane Kerkujyte', Fragebogen für DP, Arolsen Archives, Doc ID 79220657, https://collections.arolsen-archives.org/en/document/79220657

Kernius, Vytas (1995) 'Lithuania Minor, Cradle of Lithuanian Culture', Draugas News: Lithuanian World Wide News in English, 15 March, https://www.draugas.org/news/lithuanian-minor-cradle-of-lithuanian-culture/ accessed on 16 January 2023.

Lithuanian Integral Museum Information System (LIMIS), Virtual Exhibitions, Exhibition ‘Homeland is Always in Me’, https://www.limis.lt/en/virtualios-parodos/-/virtualExhibitions/view/151059, accessed 16 January 2023.

Lithuanian Integral Museum Information System (LIMIS), Virtual Exhibitions, Exhibition ‘Ieva Jankutė – daugther (sic) of Minor Lithuania’, https://www.limis.lt/en/virtualios-parodos/-/virtualExhibitions/view/21689455, accessed 13 January 2023.

'Mirė Martyno Jankaus vaikaitis Endrius Jankus’ (2014) Šilainės sodas, 20 August, https://silaine.lt/kulturos-naujienos/mire-martyno-jankaus-vaikaitis-endrius-jankus/, accessed 16 January 2023.

National Archives of Australia: Department of Immigration, Central Office; A11772, Migrant Selection Documents for Displaced Persons who travelled to Australia per General Stuart Heintzelman departing Bremerhaven 30 October 1947; 380, JANKUS Endrius DOB 7 July 1929.  https://recordsearch.naa.gov.au/SearchNRetrieve/Interface/ViewImage.aspx?B=5005677, accessed 5 March 2023.

National Archives of Australia: Department of Immigration, Tasmanian Branch; P2836, Tasmanian Naturalisation, Citizenship and Alien records; JANKUS E, JANKUS, Endrius - application for naturalisation [arrived Fremantle per GENERAL STUART HEINTZELMAN, 28 November 1947].  https://recordsearch.naa.gov.au/SearchNRetrieve/Interface/ViewImage.aspx?B=9593711, accessed 5 March 2023.

National Archives of Australia: Migrant Reception and Training Centre, Bonegilla; A2571: Name Index Cards, Migrants Registration; JANKUS E, JANKUS, Endrius: Year of Birth - 1929: Nationality - LITHUANIAN: Travelled per - GEN. HEINTZELMAN: Number – 765.  https://recordsearch.naa.gov.au/SearchNRetrieve/Interface/ViewImage.aspx?B=203627501, accessed 5 March 2023.

National Archives of Australia: Department of Immigration, Central Office; A12111, Immigration Photographic Archive 1946 – Today; 1/1968/16/158, Immigration - Migrants in employment - Civil Engineering - half an island in Tamar River moved - Lithuanian migrant, Christopher Jankus.  https://recordsearch.naa.gov.au/SearchNRetrieve/Interface/ViewImage.aspx?B=7456662, accessed 5 March 2023.

National Archives of Estonia, National Archives of Latvia, Martynas Mažvydas National Library of Lithuania, Lituanica Department (2014) ‘Education’, Camps in Germany (1944-1951) for refugees from Baltic countries, http://www.archiv.org.lv/baltic_dp_germany/index.php?lang=en&id=419, accessed 16 January 2023.

Rimon, Wendy, ‘Goliath Cement’, The companion to Tasmanian history, https://www.utas.edu.au/library/companion_to_tasmanian_history/G/Goliath%20Cement.htm, accessed 16 January 2023.

Skipitienė, Giedrė (2014) 'Mirė Endrius Kristupas Jankus’, Voruta, Trakai, Lithuania, 30 August 2014, No. 12 (802), https://www.voruta.lt/mire-endrius-kristupas-jankus/, accessed 1 May 2021.

Tarvydas, Ramunas (1997) From Amber Coast to Apple Isle:  Fifty years of Baltic immigration in Tasmania, 1948–1958, Hobart, Tasmania, Baltic Semicentennial Commemoration Activities Organising Committee.

Wikipedia, ‘Martynas Jankus’, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martynas_Jankus, accessed 23 September 2024. 

Bonegilla 1947-1948: At Last, Off to Work (from 27January) by Endrius "Andrew" Jankus

This post finishes 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 and died in Hobart, Tasmania, on 23 July 2014.  He wrote this memoir in 2012, based on a diary he had kept during his first weeks in Australia.

27 January 1948 

Just after breakfast, the loudspeaker announced the names of all the persons who were being sent fruit picking. My name was among them. 

A little later, we were told to report to the employment office. They issued each one of us with clothing, meat and butter ration coupons and our old and new passports. 

After lunch, each of us was issued with seven and a half shillings. With this money, I bought some tobacco and two airmail letters. This left me three shillings to spend later. 

At 3 pm we were told that we could leave some of our belongings in the storeroom as we will be coming back after the fruit-picking season. I left my little wooden suitcase in the store. 

At night we went for a swim to cool off. 

28 January 1948 

I got up at 6 am and took my blankets back to the store as our departure time was scheduled for 10 am. 

Just before the departure time, four buses arrived to take us to our destinations. We boarded the buses and took off, but had to stop constantly as some of the buses broke down from "old age". 

We stopped at Wangaratta for a while. Some bought sandwiches, others bought the plonk which made us sick. It was well in the afternoon, just before 5 pm, when we arrived at our destination, Ardmona. 

Twelve of us were accommodated in a farmer’s pickers’ barracks. There were two in each small room on two single beds cocooned inside mosquito nets. Mozzies zoomed around all night trying to get under the nets. In the dead of night, they sounded like aeroplanes. 

On our arrival, we were given a meal in a little hut that served as a mess hall. An old man, most likely in his seventies, was our cook. After the meal, we went for a walk to familiarise ourselves with the area. Unfortunately, it was flat as a pancake surrounded by orchards as far as the eye could see. 

I shared a room with AJ, as we have known one another since Bonegilla and the Scout Movement.* 

29 January 1948 

I got up at 6 am, hot and sweaty. The heat seemed to follow us. While most of our families and friends shivered in Europe from the cold, ice and snow, we were sweating in the full brunt of Australia’s summer. 

Breakfast was at 7 am. Then we fronted up for work at the edge of the orchard. The Boss, an overseer, showed us how to pick the larger pears from the tree without damaging the little branches. 

Latvian fruit-pickers from the First Transport in another orchard,
at Grahamvale on the edge of Shepparton, Victoria

Source:  Collection of Arvids Lejins

Each of us was issued with a huge bag to fasten to the body by straps, with an opening at the front. This is where the pears were placed gently, so as not to bruise them. We were also issued with a wooden ladder to reach the top of the trees. Thus equipped, we proceeded to pick the fruit. 

Lunch was at 12 and we started work again at 1 pm, going until 5 pm. 

A group of First Transport fruit-pickers
eating their lunch on the job

Source:  Collection of Arvids Lejins

According to the paper issued by the Commonwealth Employment Bureau at Bonegilla, our pay was three pounds and five shillings for 44 hours a week. Since our arrival we only received only five shillings each week pocket money, so this seemed a fortune to us. 

The "fortune" left us wondering after our first shopping spree in Shepparton with two weeks' pay. A watch of local manufacture cost 11 pounds, shirts were one pound, shoes were two pounds. A parcel of many tinned conserves cost five pounds and ten shillings from a well-known Sydney firm which in specialised in sending parcels to the starving "Poms" but reluctantly accepted our orders to be sent to family and friends left behind in Germany. 

Everything non-British was hated, including the native Aboriginals. We saw a few Aboriginals gathered on the riverbank when a white man appeared and told them to move. It reminded us of our brethren left behind in our country with the murdering Stalinists ordering them around. 

We usually worked until midday on Saturday and spent the rest of the day having a rest and doing some chores, like washing and mending things. Sunday was a free day but many times we worked for the Italian tomato growers picking tomatoes. We got better pay from them. 

Things didn’t work out too well at this place. A week after our arrival, most of us got diarrhoea and we noticed that our bacon and eggs for breakfast were being cooked in a pan full of fat. We gently mentioned to the owner of the property that we appreciated the eggs and bacon for breakfast, but our stomachs could not take cooking them in a massive amount of fat due to the years of starvation. 

The next morning at breakfast, our cook charged into the mess room with a large carving knife and threatened to cut everyone’s throats. We were stunned and our friendship with the cook deteriorated. We laughed after the event and gave him top marks for bravery, for facing twelve young ex-soldiers from different military formations at seventy years of age. 

The other problem which occurred was the switching around of picking rates. On some days or even half days we would be picking at a daily hire rate then suddenly we would be picking at production rate, usually paid by the case at six-pence a case. If it rained, we didn`t get paid at all. We picked there for a month and left for Tatura on 1 March. 

In our picking gang we had one real Australian. He was in his forties, a happy-go-lucky fellow and friend to everyone. He came from Melbourne. He always appeared with a Gladstone bag. In it he had a thermos of "tea" which he used quite frequently. While we went back to the small mess hall for lunch, he remained in the orchard at his work site, no doubt indulging in his "cup of tea". 

Usually in the afternoons we came across him fast asleep under the pear trees. The boss never said anything to him or to us. As I used to talk to him, I was his favorite. 

One day, during a smoko, he offered me a "cup of tea". I could not refuse his friendly offer. I took a sip and my eyes almost popped out of my head. The "cup of tea" was strongly laced with some unidentifiable alcohol. 

Not to appear insulting, I downed the brew and felt sleepy for the rest of the afternoon. No wonder the poor chap used to fall of the ladder and stay there. 

We returned to Bonegilla on 13 March 1948, with our first mission completed. On 18 March, the same group was sent to Tasmania. I believe this was punishment, but for what, escapes me. My relationship with the Commandant at Bonegilla was not very friendly. We could put that down to a clash of cultures.

The end.

Footnotes

* This might well have been Antanas Jurevicius, since the 'Bonegilla cards' for both record that their first job was with Anton Lenne Pty Ltd of Ardmona.  Another possibility is Anicetas Jucius, also sent to Anton Lenne's orchard, but he was already 32 years old, much older than Endrius at 18 and Antanas at 25.

** Double-click on the images to see larger versions of them.

Bonegilla 1947-1948: Two More Weeks, from January 14 to Australia Day by Endrius "Andrew" Jankus

This is the sixth 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 and died in Hobart, Tasmania, on 23 July 2014. He sent the full memoir to me in 2012.

14th January 1948 

Apparently, yesterday afternoon a group of our fellows went to Albury and were greeted with the word, Fascists. Obviously from some "Red Ragger” Communist. 

Then they went to a dance and returned at 3 am, drunk and loud-mouthing everyone — until it came to fisticuffs in the bus. The driver stopped the bus and called the police. With that calm was restored and everyone returned home happy. I wasn't there and only recorded what I was told by one of the participants. 

Today three groups of workers left the camp for their assigned places. They have scattered us all over Australia. Why? We have a fair idea why that was done. 

It was a cold day and in the evening was a film shown in the Great Hall. 

15 January 1948 

Today 128 people left the camp for work. My friend Peter and 15 others, who had been found to have various health problems and sent to Heidelberg Hospital for treatment, were all assigned to their workplaces and left the Camp. 

It was my turn for duty in the mess hall. The weather returned to its warmer self. 

Apparently, one of our fellows was photographed having a punch-up in Albury and his picture was plastered over the local paper. But they didn't know that he was a trained boxer. 

In the evening we were shown a film about Canberra and Perth.

16 January 1948 

Twelve more people left the camp today. There weren’t many of us left in the hut and we spent an uneventful day trying to work out a system to keep in touch with one another. 

17 January 1948 

It was Saturday. In the morning I read my book. Then I went to collect my five shillings pocket money. With it I bought two airmail letters and had a haircut. 

We were informed that today there would not be any dances as was usual on a Saturday. The reason given was that one of the girls was supposed to have been raped last Saturday. This was never confirmed. 

The other story making the Camp rounds was that one of the newspapers was offering 100 pounds to the first local girl to marry a foreigner. How true this was, we never found out. 

18 January 1948 

A non-eventful day. 

19th January 1948 

More of our fellows left the camp this morning for their work assignments. The Camp is slowly being emptied. 

At 8.30 am all males were asked to assemble in the Big Hall. We were told to go and clean the rooms where our classes had been held. We did that, (then) most went for a swim as it was beginning to get very hot. 

In the afternoon, I was called to the Office to fill in and sign some papers. 

After the evening meal, most of us went for a swim again and return to the barracks late at night to sleep. Unfortunately, that was denied to us at first, as the mosquitoes were very active. I appeared to be the main target and for some time could not sleep. 

20 January 1948 

This morning I was called to work and once again sent to the kitchen to wash the big steel pans. The kitchen staff had improved since my last experience of work there. This time they gave me a steel putty knife and a ball of steel wool. 

I was fairly certain that those pans had never been properly cleaned right from the beginning. I suggested to the cooks that they sandblast the pans. Naturally, they probably did not know what I meant. 

I told them that I was to going to see the Commandant. I did that and explained the situation with the cooks. He finally listened to me about the problem. I promised to go and do any work as long as it wasn’t in the kitchen. 

Therefore, after lunch I was assigned to transferring blankets from one store to another. This took all the afternoon until our evening meal. But it made me happy and no doubt the Commandant too. We never saw eye to eye. 

Some 50 years later after my arrival in this country, a friend of ours who was heavily involved in archival research told me that she found my immigration file and another ASIO file on me. This aroused my curiosity. 

I got on the Internet and found my immigration file but the other file was missing. I contacted the Archives and asked to see my two files. The answer came back that there was only one file. Do they even lie in high places?* 

Since one of my best friends was leaving for a work assignment in Tasmania in the morning, we went to the canteen and each bought a portion of ice-cream. We drank some lemonade as a farewell gesture to the end of our friendship. My assignment was still in the lap of the gods. 

21 January 1948

This morning I bade my friend goodbye as he and several others were being sent to Tasmania for forestry work at Maydena. The day turned out to be one of the very hottest. After breakfast, I went swimming in the Lake. Some of our boys had found some 44-gallon steel drums and had built a raft. They christened it Kanimbla after the dirty, filthy, rusty, old bucket that took us from Fremantle to Melbourne. We used that to float about in the Lake. 

We were happily paddling this raft this morning some hundred yards from the shore, when a sudden strong wind kept driving us further out onto the Lake. Four of us kept paddling this unresponsive raft towards the shore, but the wind was just too strong and kept driving us further onto the Lake. Finally, we decided to abandon our Kanimbla by tying her to a tree poking out of the water and all swam back to the shore. 

 On our return, we were going to have our lunch when I accidentally ran into our Commandant, Major Kershaw. My diary doesn’t mention the subject of our conversation and after almost 65 years my memory has failed me. 

After lunch we returned to the Lake for a swim as the heat stifled us and the wind was as fierce as a fire. I got sunburned that day and was in agony for a number of days afterwards. 

23 January 1948 

This morning I was called to the clothing store and given two pairs of pyjamas, a hat and a pair of braces. As I was still suffering from the sunburn, I didn’t do anything but read my book. Only after tea I ventured for a swim.

On my return to the hut, we found one of our friends had returned for a visit. He was one of the fellows who were sent early to work, in the Kiewa valley. He was happy to dig trenches at the project and earning good money. 

He took me and a few others to the canteen to sample the non-alcoholic drinks. He bought us oranges to celebrate our "reunion". It was midnight before we stopped quizzing him about his work, living conditions and pay. 

24th January 1948 

Found my friend P had returned from Heidelberg Hospital. He was one of those people that were found at the Bonegilla x-rays to have damaged lungs. 

The authorities wondered how he got here without being detected in Germany. Well, it was pretty simple. We knew that he had damaged lungs and would not pass the test. In actual fact, he had been shot in the back from an aircraft and the bullet had scarred his lungs. He arrived here with somebody else’s lungs. 

We worried that all those 12-20 people were going to be deported back to the refugee camps in Germany. Instead, they were assigned to jobs like everyone else. Our praise went to Mr Calwell and Mr Chifley. P praised the Heidelberg Repatriation Hospital for terrific kindness, variety of foods and the staff’s expertise. 

25 January 1948 

Today it was my turn to work in the various jobs at the camp but I was still suffering from my sunburn. The chap from our Transport who was in charge of the work group today was a kind fellow and sent me back to the hut to rest. 

He himself ended up being assigned to work in Victoria, in the Kiewa Valley. He married a girl from Albury-Wodonga area. They had two sons who became the local soccer stars. 

26 January 1948 

Today I spent the morning organising my wardrobe and packing it up, not that I had much to pack. 

At lunchtime, our Commandant came to the mess hall and singled out our table as being dirty. He and his offsider wrote down everyone’s names in a little notebook. Our table did not appear as dirty as some of the others. Nevertheless, nothing happened. We expected to be called to his office for a pep talk about hygiene.**

To be continued.

Footnote

* The National Archives of Australia (NAA) online Record Search facility shows that the public now has asked to access 2 files on Endrius, plus 2 other items which are only one page, front and back.  One of the smaller items is his 'Bonegilla card', which I have included in previous blog entries.  The confusion over the one or two files likely arose because his selection papers are held in the NAA's Canberra repository while his citizenship application (which included security vetting by ASIO) is held in the Sydney repository.  Presumably, his enquiry was thought to apply to any Canberra holdings only.

** Note the lack of any mention of Australia Day celebrations, compared with the modern focus on this national day.

Bonegilla 1947-1948: Another Two Weeks, from New Year's Day (January 1-13) by Endrius "Andrew" Jankus

This is the fifth 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.

1 January 1948 

With hope and apprehension we welcomed in the New Year. It poured with rain all day. We stayed inside our hut and occupied ourselves by reading books, with some playing cards and others telling jokes. 

There were a number of drunks wandering around the camp. Those with a permanent job in the camp had money and spent it on plonk, the local wine. Someone gave me a taste. I didn’t like it at all.

2 January 1948 

I attended the English classes today. We had a photo taken by one of our people of the whole class with our teacher Mr Lightfoot from Adelaide. That photo is still in my possession. 

We were told that all of us would be leaving the Camp soon and allocated to our workplaces all over Australia. I stretched out on my bunk and read a book that I had. 

Someone we knew brought in an Australian sausage. We cut it up and all of us had a taste. It wasn’t the standard "Belgium"; it was obviously made by some butcher in Albury or Wodonga. It was quite delicious. Later on in life we had the privilege of tasting Tasmanian Belgium. We thought we were eating sawdust mixed with a bit of mince. It was edible fried up. 

The other horrible product was Kraft Cheese. It looked like a piece of soap and tasted like chewing tobacco. Toasted on a piece of bread with oodles of salt on it, it wasn’t too bad. But there was nothing else. 

3 January 1948 

I spent the day at the English classes. We had to say goodbye to our teacher, Mr Lightfoot, as he was leaving for home. He gave us top marks for our learning ability and the attention we gave him. He got to know us personally very well. He shook hands with everyone when saying goodbye and shed a tear or two. He was a very nice chap who was appreciated by all the class. 

After lunch, we collected our five shillings pocket money. We went to the shop and bought tobacco and cigarette papers. There wasn’t much money left but there was enough for an ice-cream. Naturally, we all smoked as it kept the hunger pangs at bay during the war years, and kept you calm when bombs rained down, or artillery fire harassed you or the Gestapo interviewed you. 

Today, the first list of people being allocated to jobs appeared at the Camp Office. My friend Henry and a few others were being sent to the paper manufacturing industry in Tasmania. In those days it was Boyer plant at New Norfolk. But he ended up working in the bush near Maydena. *

One of the largest groups went to South Australia to some water reticulation scheme. Some others went to the building industry. This was the beginning of the disintegration of the camp. 

4 January 1948 

It was Sunday so we went to the Lake [Hume] for a swim and stayed there all morning. We had a visitor, an emigrant from pre-war Klaipeda. Obviously he was a German national as he had been interned during the war for three years and nine months. **

He told us that in Albury during the night a board had been found painted with a swastika and the words, “We will kill all the Jews here". 

After dinner we went for a walk. We saw the Camp’s flag at half-mast and wondered what had happened. We returned via the Camp Office and were told that on this day Alex Vasiliauskas had drowned at the age of 23. The circumstances of his drowning were a bit sketchy at the time. 

Later we found out what had happened. He had a girlfriend among the girls who used to come to the dances. Apparently, he was invited by the girl’s family to lunch. Afterwards, they all went for a swim and poor Alex drowned. He was the first casualty from the First Transport. 

5 January 1948 

This morning I didn’t go to classes as all the former Scouts went into the bush to get leafy branches to make two wreathes. We made them out of gum trees and decorated them with sashes. One sash had the inscription, "From the Lithuanian Community". The other inscription read, "From the Sea Scouts of Lithuania". 

The Sea Scouts and the Rover Scouts in their respective uniforms went to the Wodonga church where the coffin with Alex’ remains was lying in state. We placed the two wreaths at the base of the coffin and stood by the coffin as an honour guard. Two Sea Scouts and two Rovers carried the coffin out from the church to the hearse. 

The Sea Scouts and Rover Scouts carry the coffin from the church

Source:  Collection of Endrius Jankus

Then all of us proceeded to the Albury Cemetery for the burial. At the graveside, the priest said his eulogy and the Camp Commandant, Major Kershaw, praised the person now deceased. Our community leader, Jonas Motiejunas, put the gold chain with a cross that Alex wore round his neck on top of the coffin. He added a holy picture found in Alex’ belongings. 

Then the coffin was lowered into the grave. There were wreaths from us, Mr Calwell, Major Kershaw and Alex’s girlfriend. It poured throughout the graveside ceremony. Hurriedly we took some photos and departed for home. 

6 January 1948 

This morning I spent my time at the English or assimilation classes. My issue jacket was somewhat short in the sleeves so I went and exchanged it for a better-fitting one. In the afternoon I did a bit of washing to be ready for my work assignment. At 8 pm I went to the pictures in the Great Hall to see a film called Holidays in Mexico. ***

7 January 1948 

I didn’t get to the classes today, but read my English book. I collected my photos from the wedding. Finally the names of the people who were to depart on the next morning for work on the Adelaide water supply were announced. Four fellows from our hut were amongst them. 

Somebody obtained a bottle of wine from somewhere and we all had a drink. One drink and my head seemed to be swimming in space. It must have been a "good grappa"! 

8 January 1948 

Today, at 7 am, all the fellows selected for work on the Adelaide water supply left the Camp. The remainder of us gathered to say goodbye. 

After seeing them off, we went for breakfast but our table was bare. There was nothing left for us as we were late and others had consumed our share of the breakfast. This problem was always there. You had to send someone fairly early to guard your table rations or you found that nothing was left. Poor organisation. 

After lunch I went for a swim and stayed there till teatime. It was just as well that we had a Lake to help us acclimatise to Australia. 

9 January 1948 

This morning 33 people left for forestry work. Another six went to for mining jobs in South Australia. 

I ordered 10 photos from Alex’ funeral and 21 photos from our trip out from Europe to Australia. I would have to pay 13 shillings them so would have to save up.**** 

My group of friends spent all the afternoon in the Lake, swimming, diving and larking around. 

10 January 1948 

I wrote a letter to a firm in Sydney to inquire about the possibility of sending food parcels to Germany. I had seen an advertisement in the local paper advertising food parcels for Britain. I handed the letter to a friend with instructions to show it to his English teacher and to correct it if necessary. The teacher praised the writing and offered few corrections. 

The No.14 Class recorded its entire lesson into an audio recorder. Then all the pupils were told to assemble in the Big Hall. We had to record a few songs on the recorders. After that we went to collect our five shillings pocket money. 

All of the Lithuanian group decided to donate two shillings each for the cost of the monument for poor Alex Vasiliauskas. The community committee was responsible for arranging and overseeing the construction of the monument. It has withstood the ravages of time and was still there in 1998. Somewhat worse for wear, with an inscription which was hard to decipher, but still there. A surprised local historical society was advised of the monument’s existence and assured us that it will look after it. 

After lunch, one of our chaps decided to drive to Wodonga to get some wine. He returned with two Army chaps, a Major and a Corporal and eight bottles of wine. Two of my good friends got paralytic and it took all my time to get them to bed. They were as drunk as skunks. 

After all that trauma I went to the dance. There I was confronted again by the recording crew. They asked a lot of questions and the answers were recorded. 

One of the Australian girls whom I got to know was there as well. We had a few dances and talked a lot, probably because my time had arrived to depart Bonegilla. She promised to write but I never received a letter. 

11 January 1948 

Somehow, I got up this morning with a great headache. I had drunk only one glass of the plonk. It must have been a poisonous substance. I went for breakfast and then went back to bed and slept till lunchtime. 

I dreamed that I was talking to my mother who had just arrived in Bonegilla. I asked where father was. She told me he couldn’t come as he had duty to perform. And that he was being sent to England. What for, I didn’t know. 

At lunchtime it started to rain. At night we played cards to pass the time. 

We didn’t know that furious warfare was being waged by the media throughout Australia against our arrival. The "Poms" were frightened that a takeover of Australia was under way. We didn’t get any newspapers and only a few of us had radios. The Immigration Minister, Mr Calwell, was under constant attack. 

12th January 1948

I skipped classes to see off the three groups of labourers who were going to their employment placements. At 10 am, my friend T. came and asked me to go to Albury with him. My excuse was that I didn`t have any money, so he offered to pay my fare. The real reason was that he needed me as an interpreter. 

We caught the bus to Albury. With my help T. bought a suitcase and a pair of shoes. After the purchases, we had lunch in a cafe and at 2 pm caught the bus back to Bonegilla. 

I posted my letter to the Sydney firm asking for the details of sending food parcels to Germany. They were sending food parcels to Mother England, but Germany was the pariah and all the convicts and Poms wished that all Germans would die of starvation. Not knowing that they were cousins of the Germans. 

All my previous years of study of the English language had finally paid dividends. I was reading a book in English and interpreting the contents to my friends. 

13th January 1948 

Four groups left the Camp this morning for their work assignments. It was raining and very cold. I stayed in the hut and read my book. 

To be continued.

Footnotes

* Henry probably is Henrikas Juodvalkis, whose obituary written by Endrius was published in this blog on 29 April 2021.  This is confirmed not only by the first name but Juodvalkis' 'Bonegilla card' showing that he was sent to Maydena.

** The visitor probably was David Pallaks.  See Jonas Mockunas' comment below for more on his life, including why he was regarded as a German during World War II.

*** Actually, Holiday in Mexico, a 1946 Technicolor musical, the first film made by 17-year-old Jane Powell and with Fidel Castro as an extra, particularly in some crowd scenes.  More information is in Wikipedia.

**** This record from Endrius confirms what I have written below the entry from Endrius about his first five days (in Port Melbourne, travelling by train and at Bonegilla), that passengers with a camera and some film could run a business selling photos to other passengers.  Thanks to Endrius, we can calculate that 13 shillings for 31 photos means that they cost about 5 pence each.

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.