Child Migrants of WWII, The Forgotten Generation

The Australian government conducted an inquiry into the treatment of child migrants and in 2001 they released a report called Lost Innocents: Righting the Record: Report on Child Migration. Even just scanning the subheadings is disturbing. Under the section called “Institutional care and Treatment” some of the headings include; abuse in institutions, depersonalisation, sexual assault, physical assault, psychological abuse, bed wetting, exploitation of children in work and neglect are just a few.

In the section called depersonalisation the report states, “many migrant children made reference to their becoming totally depersonalised in their childhood. Their names were changed, they were lied to about the existence of their parents, possessions were removed, gifts and letters were not passed on, and they were referred to by number and not by

name. Children learned to keep their heads down and so reduce the likelihood of a random beating.” In terms of education the report states, “educational standards were so limited or virtually non-existent that some child migrants have progressed through life with minimal literacy skills. This educational deprivation has led to lifetime effects, especially for

employment prospects.”

Now that is the what the government report says, but let’s explore some of the evidence about the conditions of these institutions.

In one institution, the Methodist Babies Home in Victoria, there was a sign hung up that stated, “Visitors are requested not to touch the Babies”. But it wasn’t just the visitors who were not allowed to show affection, the 2004 Senate Inquiry revealed the following testimonies about treatment, “We had no nurturing, no love, no hugs, no kisses all necessary in one’s upbringing.” Another former migrant corroborates, “My biggest complaint is that I was never offered or given anything that even vaguely resembled nurturing. No affirmation of the person I was becoming, no encouragement, no warmth, and absolutely no affection, not under any circumstances”. And, “‘I was never shown any love at all you were just a number to them not even a name.”

This concept of dehumanising and erasing the children’s identities seemed to be a common experience. “Our clothes were numbered, and we were not a name just a number. Any names we were given were terrible racist taunts.” A woman tells of her experience as a young girl, “‘They confiscated all my clothes, all my belongings, then used a pair of large black shears to cut off my shoulder length hair… it was HACKED. I was issued with regulation clothing, a number (43).”

Another part of the dehumanising was to completely deny the children any contact with their family back home. One former migrant asked, “Why didn’t they tell me I wasn’t an orphan and that I had a family all along?”  This was a common experience among the so-called orphans, “Imagine being told that at the age of five years old that your mother is dead only to find out six years later that she is alive & well and wants to come & visit you.”  And another experience, “It was during my early primary school days when I was told … that my parents and siblings were dead, having been killed in a car accident. I have since learned from my records that my mother and father and brother had written to me however I did not receive any of these letters.”

As well as this emotional cruelty, the children often experienced physical cruelty in the form of both gruelling laborious work and punishments. From as young a 6 these children, rather than being taught to read and write, were forced to do menial labour. Washing sheets, scrubbing, polishing floors, loading bricks on building sites, working in industrial laundries, milking cows, picking fruit and unloading lumber were just some of the jobs the children were expected to do, and this was at the expense of their education. “Education in the homes was abysmal; when I entered the state school system, I was so far behind my age group I was ridiculed and taunted by both teachers and fellow students; leaving me feeling different, dumb and excluded.” Another former child migrant corroborated, “‘I left [the Home] uneducated and illiterate. I had few social skills, and felt I was a social misfit.”

The punishments dealt out were often severe, “We were belted on a regular basis by the warders. They were savage beatings. Boots and all. Time and time again. It was a nightmare. I often wished I were dead.” And this next punishment is so sad, “The bedwetters received such humiliation, they would have to parade around the room with their wet smelly sheets draped over their shoulders.” Another harrowing mistreatment was as follows, “The punishment inflicted was to have her hair shaved off, and she [a young girl of 7 or 8] was compelled to wear a sugar bag as a dress all day for a period of time.” And “The usual method of discipline was belting the boys around the legs with a string of keys and many times the boys who were hit were left with bleeding legs.” There are just so many awful stories from the experiences of these former migrants and I will not go into depth about the sexual abuse that occurred to both the girls and the boys.

Conversely, I do want to point out that some of the children did in fact have a good experience. However, unfortunately the overwhelming majority of the former child migrants’ experiences were deeply disturbing and many of them suffered from neglect and many forms of child abuse.

I will finish with an extract from Prime Minister Kevin Rudd’s 2009 speech to the then adults who experienced the traumas of the child migration program. “We come together today to deal with an ugly chapter in our nation’s history … To say to you, the Forgotten Australians, and those who were sent to our shores as children without their consent, that we are sorry. Sorry — that as children you were taken from your families and placed in institutions where so often you were abused. Sorry — for the physical suffering, the emotional starvation and the cold absence of love, of tenderness, of care. Sorry — for the tragedy, the absolute tragedy, of childhoods lost — childhoods spent instead in austere and authoritarian places … Sorry — for all these injustices to you … who were placed in our care …”

This Kelly Chase, on the Case.