The phantom boys

Barbara Cosford

I was then 10 years old and living on Masterton Road, about halfway between the camp and Pahiatua. I can remember the army trucks going past our gate with the Polish children and accompanying adults, who had that day arrived in the country, huddled in the back. The boys wore jackets and short pants, some with caps and close-cut haircuts. The girls were in their overcoats and hats, as were most of the adults.

After the children settled down in their new environment, they were taken to town accompanied by an adult. They walked in twos, singing their Polish songs and greeted us with "hello" in their language. I have since forgotten the word, but we picked it up at the time.

My dad had a poultry farm. When the boys were allowed more freedom, they came over in groups of six or seven and followed dad when he fed the poultry. At that time, the soldiers stationed in the camp would come to buy fresh eggs to take home when they had leave. Eggs were still rationed then. One particular soldier who came for eggs was in charge of the garden at the camp and the teams of boys who tended them. He was telling my mum about his "phantom (nowhere to be seen) gardeners", when half a dozen appeared with my dad. They were the "phantom boys" and they got quite a shock when they saw who was talking to my mum.

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I still have my mother's address book. Listed there are Mrs Perkowska, Richard Patulski, Kazimierz Krawczyk and boys whom she knew only by their first names – Joseph, Antoni, Laurence, Richard. I also have a white handkerchief crocheted round the edge and my initial "B" embroidered in one corner. This was done by one of the Polish ladies whose name I can no longer recall.