Some of the Polish children who came to New Zealand as refugees with Red Cross nurses in 1944 during the Second World War.
Photograph: New-Zealand-Red Cross Archives

Eighty years ago, 733 hairy Polish refugee children and just over 100 caregivers arrived in New Zealand by ship, facing an uncertain future.

But in Pahīatua they were welcomed with open arms.

Now the town of Tararua is preparing to celebrate eight decades of friendship by welcoming back nearly 20 former refugee survivors and hundreds of their descendants.

Joe Jagiello made this journey in 1944. He recalls sailing into Wellington Harbor in late October of that year, at the age of 9, after spending several years in Persia (modern-day Iran).

Józef (Joe) Jagiello wrote his name in English, as many Polish children do.
Photograph: Provided

More than four years had passed since his family was forcibly evacuated by the Soviets from their home in eastern Poland, now Ukraine, and he arrived in New Zealand without any relatives. His father is Franciszek. He remained in Iran.

“We thought, ‘What a beautiful country.’ After we came to Iran – everything was so dreary and dry in those days – there was almost no color. We came to New Zealand and everything is beautiful and green.”

“The biggest thing was the color. I remember arriving at the harbor and we all looked at the beautiful little houses rising up the hillside.

“It was really beautiful. We thought we were in heaven.”

Some of the kids who came to Wellington.
Photograph:

They were put on trains heading north from Wellington.

People lined up along the road to welcome the new arrivals, and when the trains stopped in Palmerston North, children boarded the train and gave fruit and ice cream to Polish children.

Part of the crowd greets Polish refugees on the train journey from Wellington to Pahīatua.
Photograph: John Pascoe, courtesy of the Alexander Turnbull Library

Manawatū Times The newspaper reported that deafening cheers were heard as the trains entered the platform.

The newspaper also noted the “remarkable fact” that ice creams were new to Polish children and “some of them had to be seduced before tasting this strange food.”

Jagiello remembers being given an apple and not being sure what to do with it. The children were not used to an abundant food source, and many had never even used a knife or fork before.

After Palmerston North they headed towards Pahīatua. A camp at the town’s racetrack had recently housed prisoners of war, but now it was home.

“When we arrived, all the adults started demonstrating, ‘What’s going on? Why are we being locked up in prison?’

“It had towers and huge sewers. It was a complete prison. In any case, we were told they would completely demolish (the towers and fences) and never close the gate.”

There were also half-day Polish lessons and housework. Otherwise, the children embraced their freedom by exploring the countryside around the camp.

stay in new zealand

When World War II ended, the Polish government wanted the children to stay at home, but New Zealand decided that the children should stay at home until they were old enough to make their own decisions. Jagiello said he was grateful for that.

After years of conflict, the world had become chaotic. Like many refugees, Jagiello contacted the Red Cross for help finding his father and waited patiently for news, but none came.

The other children were reunited with their families and gradually left the Pahīatua camp, but Jagiello remained there as one of the last 15 people left.

There was another big change. The lessons were now in English.

“We went to Mantainoka School and the people at the school were very nice to us,” Jagiello said.

“All the kids invited us (home) on the weekends. We got to go to different places on the weekends, stay there and enjoy the New Zealand hospitality. I think this improved our English a lot.”

Polish boys started playing rugby and later Jagiello played one game for Taranaki.

He went there after leaving the camp, studied at Hawera High School while living in an orphanage, then left the classroom to work on a farm when he was 15.

This was the beginning of a varied working life that took him to the North Island. A successful jewelery import business allowed Jagiello to invest in property, and he and his wife Joy sold their last investment flat just a few years ago.

It was also thanks to Joy that Jagiello finally learned what happened to his father several decades ago.

Joy saw in a book at the Auckland Museum an address where people could write to get information about the Polish Free Army. Jagiello did so and found that his father had died in Italy. He was also reunited with a small bag containing Franciszek’s belongings.

When Jagiello was 4 years old, the family’s life was turned upside down and they, along with many citizens, were exiled from their home.

“They loaded us onto shiny trains and took us to labor camps in Siberia.”

Jagiello doesn’t remember much about the trip, but he learned that it took about six weeks in unimaginable conditions.

“About 2 million Poles emigrated from the eastern side of Poland. Half the population died in the two years we were there.

“I lost my mother and grandmother there.”

After Germany invaded the Soviet Union and the Soviets were on the same side as Poland in the war, refugees turned to Iran, which called for other countries to accept them.

The town creates a special bond

Today nothing remains of the Pahīatua campsite, located a few kilometers outside the city, but a commemorative plaque near the site recalls its history.

The race track surrounding the camp no longer exists and there is an airport where hundreds of Polish children once ate, slept and played.

There is a room in the Pahīatua museum devoted to the story, and there is a model of what the camp looked like.

Museum president Gilda McKnight, one of the organizers of the 80th anniversary commemorations, said it was a special place.

“It was known as Little Poland at the time, and the kids loved spending time there. It was their home,” McKnight said.

“The kids had a lot of freedom. They finally got to a place that was safe for themselves.”

Gilda McKnight in the Pahīatua Museum’s room telling the story of Polish children.
Photograph: RNZ/Jimmy Ellingham

This is a story in the heart of the city.

“Older people passed the story on to young people, to future generations. But now our young people, our school children, are really embracing the story,” he said.

“They feel very emotional about the story because of the pain these kids are going through.”

McKnight’s husband, Andrew, said the former refugees and their families had been very well received on Nov. 1, ahead of two days of activities.

“We will meet at the train station and then the local police and fire crew will escort them into town.

“They’ll take the same route they took to the camp (in 1944), then turn down one of the streets and come back down both sides of the main street. The business owners are all decorating their shops.”

Just like in 1944, local school children will line the route waving, but this time they will be saying “welcome home” to the Polish children who survived 80 years ago in what promises to be emotional scenes.

Jagiello currently lives in Waiuku. He can’t go to Pahīatua next weekend, even though the town will always hold a special place in his soul.

Józef (Joe) Jagiello wrote a book about his life in 2005.
Photograph: Provided

“This is my real home. I get very nostalgic. We passed there a few times for holidays, but unfortunately I won’t be able to go this time. My health is not very good.”

In his autobiography, One Man’s OdysseyJagiello writes movingly about his Polish “brothers and sisters.”

“The close bond we orphans shared during those years has never weakened. We’ve had strange, terrible and wonderful times together, and our feelings are still the same whenever we meet.”

It will be no different next weekend in Pahiatua.