Dilys Budd (Part 1 of story)

Story

Part 1 of Story in 2 Parts:

It was early 1947, I was 10 years old & Britain was still recovering from the war. I remember sitting in a classroom in the Nazareth House Orphanage, Cardiff, when the nun in charge introduced the class to three men, one of whom was an Australian. ‘Hands up who wants to go to Australia’, he asked. I & most of my classmates put our hands up.

We really had no idea what we were putting our hands up for. Would it be like a day at the seaside or a visit to the zoo? We didn\’t think it was forever. They then told us the sun was always shining; we could pick our own fruit from the trees & that there were lots of families waiting to adopt us. They also said that families would be kept together. Unfortunately, things didn\’t work that way. We left one orphanage in Wales & went to another in Australia.

I don\’t remember the circumstances surrounding my being fostered out very early in the war; but I do remember clearly my foster mother being very cruel. I was forced to eat my meals sitting under the table or sitting on the back step & forced to stay in my room for hours on end. She eventually took me to the Nazareth House Orphanage about the age of 5 years. Going to the orphanage turned out to be a miracle for me. I was much happier, with lots of other children to play with & best of all – I there met my twin sisters, who I didn\’t know I had. My sisters were six years older than me & they cared for & protected me until the day I was shipped to Australia. The friends I made at that very young age are still my close friends today.

The war years had been very hard for Nazareth House. Food was scarce, we were always cold & schooling was very limited as we spent many nights in the air raid shelters, wrapped in a grey blanket with dry biscuits to eat. We caught up on sleep during the day. Our last meal of the day was usually just bread & cocoa. The orphanage depended on charity & there was a lack of nutritious food. As a result, we suffered from scabies & many other diseases & some contracted TB. I remember many children didn\’t survive.

My mother, visited us in the orphanage every week, & she never forgot to bring a small block of chocolate & any fruit she could afford Ð an absolute luxury back then. My mother was alone, in lodgings, with no welfare or social services. She worked long hours doing domestic work & gave what she could to the nuns to help look after us. When I was about 6 or 7 (we didn\’t celebrate birthdays so I didn\’t know how old I was) our mother died of TB.

One thing I have never been able to forget. I didn\’t know my mother had died & was very distressed when I thought she had missed a visit. I only found out when one of the nuns called me & said ‘Go to the church & say a prayer for your mother, she died last night’. I don\’t harbour ill feelings towards that nun as many people became hardened to the effects of the war. For example, attached to Nazareth House there was an Elderly Peoples Home. When one of the elderly passed away they would be placed in the Home\’s mortuary & it was the custom in those days to place pennies over the eyes. We as children found ways of getting into the mortuary & taking the pennies. For two pence we could buy an apple & a cup of chips. I have to admit never feeling guilty Ð war & hunger does strange things to people even small children.

I & 16 other war orphans from Nazareth House were selected to go to Australia. In August we left Cardiff (I remember my sisters waving me off on the train to Southampton, not realising that it would be some 30 years before I saw them again). We met war orphans from other parts of Britain on the ship & we really played up during the voyage. I am sure it was a relief to all when the ‘Asturius’ docked in Fremantle on 22 September 1947.

This Story Continues in Part 2

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