Polish Refugees in New Zealand 1944-1951

Speaking from the ship’s deck, the Prime Minister assured the arrivals that the local food, climate and prepared accommodation will help in the children’s return to full health. One of the little girls astounded everyone by replying in English: “We thank you sir very much for what you have done for us Polish children by inviting us to your beautiful country.” The children then sang a few Polish songs.

The first to disembark were the New Zealand soldiers, some of them wounded, whom their relatives and friends welcomed like heroes. After many months away they returned happily to their homes. This could not be said of the children, whose homeland was on the other side of the world and occupied by its enemies. Though they received a warm welcome, the children were aware that this was not their home. They saw this country as just another stop on the long road back to Poland. No one could know at the time that for most of the children there was no return and that this was to be their permanent home. One of the cameramen alongside the ship describes this arrival:

“I was directed to film the arrival of the Polish refugee children. Nothing could prepare me for the sight of these little ones. Each child carried its pathetic bundle with everything they possessed in the world. It was a beautiful Wellington day. The ship had steep and narrow gangways. I stood by one of them and my accomplice by the other. The children walked down the swaying gangway, probably very surprised of what awaited them. There was cheering and in the prevailing solemn silence one felt compassion from the waiting New Zealanders.”

The disembarking went smoothly. The returning soldiers, Polish personnel, older girls, local nurses and Scouts all assisted the children. One of the Polish women expressed thanks to the New Zealand soldiers for helping to look after the children during the voyage: “You were so kind to us and we shall never forget this. May God bless you and your dear ones.” Corporal Albert Smith replied: “The children behaved beautifully and we were happy in their company. It was a pleasure to ply them with milk, ice cream and sweets.”

In the documentary newsreel on that day “New Zealand Soldiers and Polish Children in 1944”, which documented the moment of arrival of the young Poles to the “land of the kiwi bird”, the narrator commented:

“The Poles brought with them few personal belongings. They also had very few items that reminded them of their homeland. Though their lives were reduced to a will to survive, courage and simple gratitude for food and shelter, one could see their pride. These little people were constantly on the move over the past five years. They were remnants of once peaceful communities, little crumbs of once large families. These are the people whom war had dislodged and scattered around the world.”

The journey by train of 733 children and 105 adults to the temporary camp in Pahiatua was the final stage of their long wanderings. This is how Ryszard Gołębiewski, one of the younger children, remembers it:

“When we were led to the train someone put a piece of candy in my hand. The taste was heavenly. It was the first sweet in my life. It was hard to believe that strangers could be so kind. I think this restored my faith in people.”

The passenger train stood near the ship to save the children a long walk. Along with everyone else, Fr Michał was pleased at the warm welcome from the local population along the 160km train ride to Pahiatua. There was a feeling of excitement about the new surroundings and expectation of what they would find. Both adults and children were glued to the carriage windows, from which extended a beautiful countryside with grazing sheep and cattle on green pastures. Some of it reminded them of the countryside in their native Podole region of East Poland.

The biggest welcome awaited them in Palmerston North, which lay on the route to Pahiatua. Schools were closed that morning and the local children gave the Poles a very warm welcome. The train arrived at the main station in the middle of town where large crowds were waiting. When the train stopped a strange silence descended upon the excited crowd. Nothing in their experience had prepared them for what they saw. Many of the boys had shaven heads, their clothing made of remnants of army uniforms. Their eyes told of impoverishment, pain and suffering, as if asking: “What will it be like here? Will we be safe? Will they want us here?” After the first moments of mutual uncertainty, made more difficult by the language barrier, smiles appeared on both sides and the first words of welcome were spoken. The local children passed toys to the Polish children who were leaning out of the carriage windows.

The locals took time off work to see the children. Red Cross nurses handed out small boxes of sandwiches and biscuits. On that hot spring day the children were plied with ice cream and heaps of sweets from the welcoming crowd. A Polish boy recalls that the sweet and creamy taste of New Zealand ice cream stayed with him and his sister for many years.

Once the train arrived in Pahiatua, 33 army trucks carried them to their final destination – the Polish Children’s Camp in Pahiatua. The long journey was coming to an end. And so the Poles now stood on seven acres of New Zealand soil, which thanks to the hospitable reception became a fragment of their homeland – their “Little Poland”. (p83-87)

… Everything was arranged for the children’s arrival. Despite the prevailing excitement, everyone obeyed their superiors and marched to the place allocated to them. Everyone wondered if they would remain with their own groups formed in Iran. The children were segregated by age, gender and the level of schooling they had managed to achieve so far. Separation from their siblings resulted in the strengthening of bonds between children in their own allocated group, which eventually became stronger than their old family bonds. Having seen their sleeping arrangements, the children eagerly went exploring the rest of the camp and its environs. Everything fascinated. The little ones rolled about in the lush green grass. This was a special treat after cold and hard Siberia, the vast and dry steppes of Kazakhstan and the desert centre of Iran.

Exploring had to wait because the camp siren announced time for the evening meal, which was welcome after all the excitement of the day. The local women who had prepared the dormitories now assisted the smallest children who were not yet able manage the knife and fork. Then it was time for the first night at the camp. The volunteer ladies once again came to the assistance of the smallest children and tucked them into a bed. Most were asleep as soon as their shaven heads touched the pillow. They could sleep in peace because their journey had come to an end.

The first days at the camp were exciting for all. Anna Bednarska wrote in her diary:

“This is my fourth day in the camp. Everything is very nice – so much greenery. The dormitories are clean, everyone has their own wooden bed with a soft mattress, with clean sheets and blankets. Each bed has a chest of drawers and there are mirrors. There is central heating, washbasins and showers with hot and cold water, enamel toilets, laundries and drying rooms. New plates and cutlery on the tables and a friendly cook.”

The food was tasty and there was plenty of it, which was only a dream in the Siberian exile. Classrooms were well appointed and the medical clinic was well organised. All this helped the children to settle in quickly and regain their optimism. (p92-93)

A Priest’s Odyssey