Peter & Garry Skurka

Story

To a relatively young Romanian couple, who had found themselves in Germany immediately before and during World War 2, the post war situation, – then with two children – must have stimulated a desire to seek a new life in a better part of the world.

With the Iron Curtain drawn closed, return to Romania was not a desirable option. Under the auspices of the UNIRO opportunities existed for emigration. Not Canada (because there was more than one child), but Argentina and Australia were possibilities. Although accepted to go to Argentina, I became ill at the critical time and we stayed. In the meanwhile, Australia had agreed to our application and soon after my recovery about November 1949, my father Georg, my mother Katherina, my brother Gerhard (Garry) aged 5 and myself aged 7 boarded a ship called GOYA out of Naples for Australia.

We had lived in Ludwigshafen/Rhine, a city that was heavily bombed because of its large industrial infrastructure. I have recollections of playing on huge mounds of rubble and ducking in and out of ruined walls, roads and structures. Before leaving Germany for the embarkation camp in Naples, I recollect a clear day when we went to see a beautiful castle on a hillside in Heidelberg. I was particularly impressed with a huge stone statue of a recumbent male figure, which to my imagination was a genuine Grimm fairy tale giant.

In Naples, my father performed maintenance work around the camp. My brother and I had discovered that there was an active swap market conducted through the chain wire perimeter between the locals outside and those of us inside. The transactions produced newspaper cones of peanuts in shells for anything considered of value. I think we got into considerable trouble for swapping a watch (albeit not running) for several cones. We probably should not have offered a cone to our mum.

On the sea journey I remember passing through the Suez Canal with the never ending desert landscapes on both sides of the ship. I felt that the canal was far to narrow for all the activity that was going on in it. The pace of activity increased at what must have been Port Said or Aden. Here there were hundreds of small craft with traders wanting to sell their wares at the tops of their voices to all the passengers. As well as fruit, the colourful people in the little Arabian looking craft were selling toys, trinkets, cloth metal wares, baskets and lots of other goods.

Across the Indian Ocean, things settled into a routine, with some highlights like the equator crossing. I particularly remember pillow fights on a horizontal pole over the top of a large water container. For us kids and the adults too it was great fun to see the defeated combatants fall into the water tank.

There were sing-alongs too, so as to encourage the first attempts at what for most people was a new language Ð English. I particularly remember ‘My Bonny lies over the ocean’ and the then popular song ‘You are my sunshine’ being sung often.

We arrived at Port Melbourne on 26 December 1949 and it was hot. After bureaucratic processing we boarded a long red train which was waiting for us on the wharf. Soon we were on our way to Bonegilla Migrant Camp.

Bonegilla consisted of military barrack huts in rows and I remember lots of announcements over the PA. Meals were served army style in a mess hut. The food, although undoubtedly wholesome, tasted strange to European palates. The IXL plum jam was over sweet, the butter was salty, and the army style scrambled eggs were tasty when they had been slightly burned at the base of the huge baking trays in which they were cooked.

Soon after, we were relocated to West Sale ex air force base, except my father who was at the Glen Maggie irrigation scheme (via Heyfield) fulfilling his two year labour contract. He used to ride by push bike from Heyfield to West Sale (a distance of about 40 miles) every two or three weeks over the weekend to see the family. During a big flood I remember him bringing quite a few rabbits tied on a rod attached to the bike. He had caught them on an island of high ground in the midst of the flood waters.

The family settled in the town of Sale and two more brothers arrived, George in 1950 and Bill in 1952. My father had finished his contract and was employed by a local plumber, Templeton & Sons, where I remember him rolling corrugated galvanised iron to build water tanks. All the work was performed manually and riveting and soldering seemed to take a long time. Sometimes, during school holidays the older boys went with him to house building sites where I remember helping with the erection of gutters and downpipes.

My father had a house built in East Sale and he had a large vegetable garden.

< Back to the Stories