Anna Baziuk-Butler

My name is Anna Baziuk. My birthday is 25 March 1923. I was born in a small family village called Radziule, which was part of Wilno province before the Second World War.

For many years, I thought my birthday was 12 December 1925, but when I visited Gorzow, Poland in 1991 to see my sister Genowefa and her children Teresa and Danuta, I met some elderly family relatives who told me this was not my correct birthdate. The relatives were children of my mother’s brother who were living 80 kilometers from Gorzow at the time.

My mother and father were good parents. My father owned a farm which he had inherited from his parents. My father’s name was Konstanty. In the First World War his parents sent him to America because they were afraid that he would be taken to war and be killed. He was a great story teller of both true and made up stories! We enjoyed listening to him as children, very much. He told us once that he ate frog’s legs on his trip to America – we were disgusted! He was a good entertainer and singer. He had lots of friends and used to bring them home from the market to sit at the table, drink wine and sing. They were usually Catholic, religious songs. He used to sing at weddings and funerals. My father had a pistol, because he was an important person in the village, like the Mayor.

My mother’s name was Jozefa. My mother had a special big room for weaving and spinning. The looms hung from the ceiling and she made tapestry and rugs which she sold at the market. She also made tablecloths and thick blankets – with or without patterns.Our mother also made our own cheese and butter from the animals on the farm. I remember her making borsch and kapusta with smoked pork and carrots.

There were eight children in our family, including one set of twins. One of the twins, Stanislaw, died as a baby. The other, Janina, died when she was 13 years old. I think she died of sunstroke. It was very sad. My mother changed our birthdates during the war to protect us and I am very happy that I now know all the correct birthdates of my brothers and sisters. Genowefa is the eldest in the family. We called her Genia. It was like a pet name.She was still alive when I visited in 1991. I found she was not a happy woman. She spends a lot of time praying in the church. After Genowefa, came Antoni. He was strong and handsome. He was a university student when the Russians came to take him away for the war. I have a photo of him riding his motorbike outside our house. We never saw him again and we think he was killed during the war.

The twins came after that. I remember Janina (we called her Janka), had beautiful red hair and I was secretly a bit jealous of her beauty. This made me feel especially sad and guilty after she died. I was born after the twins, my brother Jan was born after me. We called him Janek. After Janek came Zenon, then the youngest, Danuta.

I remember Poland was very beautiful then. When I got back to Poland in 1991 nothing was the same. It was disappointing – hot, polluted, cloudy. The buildings were grey and depressing.

My childhood memories of Poland are very happy ones. We lived on a farm which I think my father inherited from his parents. My father’s sister is still alive in Radziule.I think her name is Marishka. Our house was surrounded by a big orchard. I remember a lilac tree at the front fence. It had beautiful, scented flowers of a bluish, purply colour. Around the front of the house was a white picket fence and we had a garden with lots of flowers. We had chooks, ducks, and geese on our farm. My mother preserved fruit for the winter and put it in the loft of our house.

She also dried fruits on string in the sun and made her own bread. I remember her making borsch and kapusta (smoked pork and cabbage). There was straw and yellow sand in the ceiling as insulation and in the winter we preserved apples in it. There was a special big room for weaving and spinning and my mother made tapestry, rugs, blankets (with or without patterns) and tablecloths from huge looms which hung from the ceiling. We made our own butter and cheese.

My parents were good parents. My father had a lot of friends and used to bring them home from the market and sing at the table and drink wine. The songs were mainly religious ones. He was a devoted Catholic.

I remember shepherds used to take animals on to a paddock from the stables in the morning and bring them in at night. I could hear that beautiful sound of them playing the flute miles away. Other people helped each other on the fields getting grain home for the animals and themselves to store for winter. In the winter time the families living around us got together to cut cabbages for sauerkraut, preserving it in big barrels. We also did gherkins.

In the evenings, groups of boys and girls would go from one family to another making feather-down and cushions out of geese and chook’s feathers, always singing and making jokes. On Saturdays, women prepared all the food for Sunday. On Sunday everybody relaxed and again got together having fun with a few drinks and plenty to eat- barszcz (borscht), bigos, pierogi etc. Someone would play the piano accordion or mouth organ and violin, and everyone would sing and dance if they wished.

We started school at the age of seven. It was too cold to start earlier and transport was difficult. We had sledges and skis and played in the snow in winter. In my room I had a shelf of things I treasured – my own things. I had a little altar in my room as well. Once I teased the geese just one time too many and they attacked me. I have hated geese ever since! On Sundays we went to church. We had a coach and two horses to go to church in. The horses had bells which tinkled as we went along.

Before the war, the Russians came and lived in our outhouses on the farm. I don’t know why. They were well dressed and wealthy and we had no choice but to have them. They showed us lots of dances and their culture. I think they went back to Russia before the war.

Then one day when Anthony went to university, they took him away to join the Red Army. This was on 10 January 1940. We never saw him again. Then, two or so days later they came to the house and took our father for a ‘talk’. Although my father eventually found his way back to my mother, I never saw him again. Then one morning, they came to take the rest of the family to the railway station. They had already taken my father and said we would see him again, but we never did. They said we were going to a better place and we couldn’t take anything with us. They watched us go to the toilet before we left, holding a gun over us. We couldn’t say good-bye to anyone.They wouldn’t let my mother tell her brother, who was living across the road. My mother sat still on a chair in the kitchen and cried. She looked blank, and numb. The soldiers waited until the tension eased a bit and then they took us to the station. We went in a cart drawn by horses. One told me quietly on the way that I could escape if I wanted to, but where would I go? I was afraid they would shoot me if I tried.

On the train, we were like cattle. The Russian soldiers were taking us to Siberia. There were two or three families on the floor of the carriage. I remember the women had long, thick, beautiful hair. It was terrible in the train. There were no toilets. They pushed the door open and we put our bottoms out the door. They would stop and give us soup – boiling water and cabbage. I think this went on for…maybe a month? But I can’t be sure. There were bars across the window. Whoever died was thrown out the door and left on the wayside. You could see the bodies if you looked out the barred window along the track. The doors were always locked. If you wanted anything, you had to bang on them hard. Some of the soldiers were kinder than others.

In Siberia, we were put into huts with wooden bunks. These were slabs of wood on top of each other and there was a chippie (small wood burner) in the room. We were in a timber yard – this was for women and children only. It was very cold If we took shavings of wood from the yard, we would be shot. It was very difficult to keep warm. We had bare feet. The younger children were supposed to go to school. The place was full of bedbugs and fleas that bit you at night. We tried to burn something at night in turns, to keep them away. We had our heads shaved to get rid of the lice and fleas. It was very barren. My mother realized they were brainwashing us at school by telling us how wonderful Stalin was. They laughed at God. The teacher ordered us to call out to God to help us. If you called out to Stalin, you got candy. They told us that Poland was finished. Our mother started changing our ages to protect us. Mother and Danuta did not have to work because Danuta was too young. The more you worked the more bread you got, which was about one pound average. We worked in the timber yard sawing and stacking wood. I still have a scar on my left hand little finger where I sawed my finger. The doctor said ‘Before maryta zagaita’ which means ‘this will heal before you marry.’ (It was quite bad – to the bone – but it did heal). I got some dandelion and rag and rolled it up tight. When I took it off, my finger was corked (45 degrees) so I exercised it. Many people were killed in the forest chopping trees. They didn’t know how to judge which way the trees were going to fall, and were crushed. It was very sad.

Once a week we had a bath This was a room full of troughs lining the walls. Just like you would have for animals. A hard scrubbing brush was given. We were marched into the troughs naked and forced to scrub. If you didn’t do as you were told, no matter how hard, you were shot.

In the warmer weather, my mother was allowed to go into the bush and collect berries. We covered holes for the train. Sometimes good soldiers helped us by allowing us to sit down, gather mushrooms and eat, and then they lied about how much work we had done to protect us. Not one soldier liked Stalin as far as I could see but they were quiet about it even though they sometimes spoke to us.

We left Siberia in October 1941.

On 22 December we arrived in Uzbekistan. I was 18 but they thought I was 15. The Russians were still controlling us, we were not free. The Uzbeks somehow got us into small boats (two or three families in one boat). We travelled along the Amu Darya River stopping at places along the way to eat. We arrived at Uzbekistan.

There were huge cotton fields, and I remember rows and rows of white cotton. Life was much easier – the place was warmer. There were mud huts and no fleas although we were still exiles who had to work to eat, and we stayed in barracks. My sister Danuta and my mother stayed inside and made jerseys for the Uzbeks. They thought my mother was very clever. They looked after us well and sometimes we saw their chimneys going and they would invite us for a meal. They ate little balls of something made from goats’ milk. This was rich in protein and a porridge type of meal. Sometimes they would bring food to our huts or invite us to sleep. Their mud huts had goatskins or rugs lying around a hole which had burning coals in. They lay on their rugs on the floor with their feet towards the fire to sleep. There was a cradle hanging from the roof for the baby and they would rock the cradle and sing to their baby, banging it on the back – hard! The men had six or so wives if they could afford it. They had huge weddings and other wives were waiting to serve at them. The wedding was a huge feast with a large crowd of relations and people dressed in their best. They invited us. There were no knives or forks, they used only their hands. My mother shared everything she had with us. We made the leftovers last 3 or 4 days. The bride was in black before the wedding and spent days praying and preparing. She wore bangles and jewelry. The music was made of drums and tins. The bride was carried to the groom’s house on small donkeys with bells. The groom would take off her veil and carry her into the house while the other people danced, feasted and ate.

At night I used to sneak out and try to see where the dead people were buried and if there was anyone I knew. Once someone tried to grab me. I screamed loudly and ran like a hare back to my hut!

One day, we got an order over a loudspeaker that all Polish people must go to Turkestan, through Tashkent. So we moved on and walked day and night in bare feet to get there. We had terrible blisters and tried to help each other by carrying piggy back or whatever to keep going. When we got there, we were given food and clothing by the Polish army. There was a huge red brick wall around the place. We were told younger children would be kept here. Genia could speak Russian well and refused to leave my mother. She said she would rather die and they could cut her throat if they wanted to. They let her return to Kazakhstan with my mother. It was very sad our mother leaving. We waved at her over the fence and cried very hard. We couldn’t believe she was going. Danuta, Jan, Zenon and I were together.

They fed us quite well in the camp, but the organizers seemed to keep a lot of the food for themselves. They tried to organize games to make us run and exercise with food and clothing as a reward. We were too weak and most of us collapsed trying and didn’t get much.

Then the boys and girls were separated. I was sent to a sort of commune called Kolkhoz Kalanin in a place called Wrewsk where we were organized into cadet schools. Danuta was taken away from us all to an orphanage, so we went in different directions. On 10 August 1942 I left Wrewsk and went over the Caspian Sea to Pahlavi. I went on a ship that was packed with people. There were bare shelves like bunks. There was no room to move on deck. I had a special haversack with my few documents, precious things, and my diary. There was so little room on deck that I brushed my pack against someone and lost everything overboard into the sea. I was very upset. The journey seemed to take a long while. People were nearly crazy with exhaustion, starvation, and heat. We finally arrived on 22 August 1942. In Pahlavi, there were nurses in white uniforms and doctors. I was sick and vomiting. There were adults and young people lying on the ground under a cover like a carport. Under the poles of this carport cover lay the diseased and mentally ill. Some were tied to the poles with their hands behind their backs until they could be helped. Some died while they were waiting. The heat was awful. People were screaming. I knew no-one. I couldn’t see Zenon or Jan. I just did as I was told and tried to accept what was happening. It was the only way to survive. I can’t remember what we had to eat or drink. These were the worst visions I ever had. We were like animals. At least in Siberia we had each other, our family, and some hope. But here, was like hell. I don’t know how we survived. The heat was unbearable.

I left Pahlavi on 30 October 1942 to go to Ramadan. We slept the first night there, where there were a lot of Polish soldiers. From Ramadan we travelled to Palestine and stayed in a camp in Gedera. This was on 10 November 1942. Travelling from Teheran we saw lots of camels in the desert. People were dark and very wild, called Kurds. I went to Isfahan, the capital of Persia.

I’m not sure how I got there as I was so sick. They put me in hospital there. They gave us a tablespoon of red wine before meals. I think they thought it would give us strength. Polish people were helping us here. There were dark people who were doctors and nurses. We were all quite sick. Next to my bed was a girl who got very attached to me. One night she went insane with grief and hung herself from the end of her bed with a piece of muslin. This was very sad and upsetting for me. When I got out of hospital they put us in a camp again and tried to sort us out. I walked around looking for someone I knew.

And in the barracks for children I could hardly believe it. I found Danuta! It was a camp for orphans. Danuta was wearing a grey pinafore and white collar. She looked all right and well groomed. Neither of us had any hair. I couldn’t believe it was her! I cried and cried to see her.

Then the truck was taking her away and I didn’t know where. We were both crying and I said “I want to come with you!” But they wouldn’t let us be together. After that I found out through the Red Cross that she had been taken to Pahiatua in New Zealand. I went to Nazareth by truck.

We were taken to a big convent where Jesus was born. The Carmelite sisters were there. They were very devoted to God. There were no coverings on the floor and so on but where we stayed was very beautiful. The nuns let us have where they were living and moved into other buildings. It was very big. There was a high red brick wall and big wide gate. We were able to finish our studies – French, Latin, History, Geography, Polish, but no English. It was very hard to learn as we were so far behind. There were exercises every morning followed by a cold shower. By 7.30 we had breakfast and from 8.00 – 4.00 we had to study. Then we had free time but we had to keep quiet. We were in army uniform. Ours had a bull on the uniform as this was our group. It symbolized we were as strong as the bull.

I remember how we walked in groups to Nazareth. It wasn’t very safe not to go this way and there were lots of small boys begging. They called us names. While we were there they picked a dozen of us to go for a better year with adult help, to Beirut. I don’t know how we were chosen. Beirut was beautiful with healthy Cedar trees. We stayed in hotels! Life was heavenly. Who paid? I don’t know. We were there about three months. I remember there was a concert on in the hotel for tourists. Women dancers with bells on their toes and hands entertained us. We thought we were in heaven and we used to sneak out to watch them. The people were very wealthy. The younger men tried to chase after us. They spoke to us in French which we understood a little. They took us to see Beirut and other special places which mean a lot to me but I can’t remember their names. It was a beautiful country then.They gave us each a Polish/French dictionary. I kept mine until I moved to Arthur Street in Tokoroa. I had forgotten French by then and thought it was no use keeping it. I wish I had kept it now because it had the name of the man who gave it to me in it.

We returned to Nazareth and had to study again but only for a short time. I was so well cared for but when I got back to Beirut I had a lump in my mouth. My teacher took me to Tel Aviv to an Arab dentist. He took an X-ray and found I had an abscess. He gave me an anesthetic to. When I was feeling dozy he tried to touch me and grab me. I screamed out loudly and my teacher came. When she came he put his hands down quickly. I was too ashamed to tell her what he had done and told her it was the pain in my mouth which made me cry out.

When I got back to Nazareth I was sent to hospital again, one run by Arabs and Indians. Jan (who had been in the Air Force cadets) and Zenon (who had been in England) came to see me sometimes. They were able to find me because outside the gate was a list with our names on and passing soldiers could see who was there.

The Polish nurses and doctors were not that nice to me. They said I had been pampered and shouldn’t be in the hospital but in the army. I found out later that I had tuberculosis. I escaped from their harsh treatment of me. I just ran off – and kept going. Fortunately for me I ran in to Jan who was coming to visit me! We left and stayed anywhere we could. Once we stopped at a big orchard full of grapefruit and lemons which was by a railway yard. There was a train guard who agreed to help us. He made a fire to keep us warm. He was interested in me! I kept his photo for a long time.

Jan spoke English and got us on the train.We managed to get back to my old school and I had to report to my commandant and say why I had run away. The hospital had reported me missing. She forgave me. Jan couldn’t stay –men were not allowed. I stayed and studied a while then we had to finish. The war had ended. It was very sad saying goodbye to everyone – our friends and the people who had been so good to us. I have a tape which a friend, Eddie, in Tokoroa gave me and on it is the song which we sang to say farewell.

From the Middle East we had to go to Egypt. This was on a very small cargo boat with lots of mentally ill people and some small animals. We had very little to eat and no-one to care for us after Nazareth. It was very difficult. There were not many people on it. Our army group had to go but I left many of my friends behind. They were sent to many other places. When we got to Egypt we were not far from Cairo but we did have to pay to get there, and I didn’t have any money. I wish I did. We stayed in army tents and were unsure of what was happening. We slept on stretchers. I found a snake in my bed and have hated them ever since!

From Egypt we went to England through the Panama Canal. I loved this part of the journey very much. The ships stopped in the Panama Canal for a while in the evening. Spanish music played all night. There were beautiful shops. I remember a man sitting on the street with a music box asking if anybody wanted their shoes polished or asking for baksheesh. This was a very happy place.

When we arrived in England we were put into barracks in Hereford. Jan visited me a few times here but he was drinking a lot at this time. There was no more schooling or education. We got an advance of money to get food. In our barracks on one side were Polish ladies and on the other side were female cadets. We were supposed to learn English but we weren’t given teachers. The army ladies taught us a bit but we picked most of it up as we went along. It was here they started giving us cigarettes. I wish I had never tried it as I never stopped smoking after that! In the barracks was a pot-bellied stove to keep us warm and not much to eat. We stayed up late playing 500 and bridge. We felt sick from the cigarettes but we thought we were great! People used to come to the windows selling food (which was not allowed) but we bought things like smoked fish. It was good on the first two times but on the third we got rotten food. I got food poisoning once or twice. Once I collapsed when Jan came to see me. (It was very embarrassing as I had no control of my bowel). Jan was coming from Scotland where he was stationed. He said he would take me to see ‘part of England’ and guess where he took me? To a pub!

We had to go to London to get a passport and any papers from Nazareth. We had to decide where we would go from there. Danuta was in New Zealand and wanted us to come to her. She made it sound so good. People went to lots of different places. Some went back to Poland. I didn’t know anything about Poland – even if it existed or not. I didn’t know if any of my family was still alive. I decided to stick with the family I had and followed Jan and Danuta to New Zealand with Zenon. I left Liverpool and arrived in New Zealand on 10 January 1949. It took us six weeks to get to New Zealand on a cargo ship called the Empire Star. There were a few rich people on this boat travelling to Australia and other countries. There were also a lot of cars and trucks and quite a few mentally ill people. We felt we were quite well off because we had a swimming pool and other things on board to make it more comfortable. But for the first three weeks I was so seasick I couldn’t get up. On New Year’s Eve there was dancing and parties. But I was too sick to go!

We arrived in Auckland. From Auckland we went to Paeroa by bus, then taxi to stay with rank and Sadie Strange.