The General Langfitt Story
Chapter 5 - Dispersal (continued)
In this protected community, strong friendships were formed and these in turn nurtured a sense of responsibility and mutual obligation. Many people commented upon the law-abiding nature of the community. Irena Makowiecka summed it up:
I don't think the children in the settlement were troublesome because a lot of them were very mature and most appreciated the fact that they could study. I certainly did. Also, most children did not want to hurt their mothers, who had suffered enough already. It was unthinkable to add to their suffering and their problems. I imagine that this was the attitude of the majority of young people in Africa. My mother always looked back on the years in Africa as a holiday from life. For her, it was a very relaxing seven years because she didn't have to worry about providing food or shelter, and she didn't have to worry about me growing up and getting into mischief.
In contrast, Kazimierz Sosnowski recalled his mother's 'nervous problems' during her time in Tengeru, caused by uncertainty about the fate of her husband, grief for the two sons she had lost, and fear of her future. Maria Sosnowski, however, remembered that while 'life wasn't all that easy in Tengeru' for the adult women, they did at least feel safe. Their uncertainty about the future and the fate of their husbands and sons in the war zones were made easier to bear by the community they had created around them:
It was as if I was in Poland because I was surrounded by Polish people. There was Polish church and schools in the camp and that felt good.
Zofia Nadachowska (nèe Zebrowska) also reflected upon the differences between children's and their mothers' experiences of the time in the African settlements:
The children felt safe and happy in Africa but for our mothers, and for the young adult women who had passed their early teenage years, life was very limited because we were enclosed in camps surrounded by jungle. It was a stilted kind of a life. There was a sense of hopelessness because year after year we were still in the camps, getting food but not really working for our keep. I know that is how my mother and some other women felt. When the news of the Yalta treaty came it was a real blow because it killed any hope of going back to Poland. When the communist regime of Poland sent their emissaries to try and talk our mothers into going back, they knew that it would be into virtual slavery. My mother was desperate to go back because her husband and beloved eldest son were there fighting in the resistance movement. But when she wrote to her family asking if there was a possibility of her returning they said, 'Oh yes, please do come back. We have even picked out a house for you which will be opposite your brother-in-law'. All the letters were very heavily censored at the time but we knew that my father's brother had a house in town right opposite the prison. They were telling us that mother would go to prison, so there was no going back if you didn't want to live under the communist regime.
The last years in Africa became increasingly difficult for many people plagued by sad apprehension about their eventual fate. As several commented, it was impossible to prepare themselves for the unknown and there was an escalating sense of powerlessness in the camps. Late in 1949, hope was rekindled when news filtered through the camp that an Immigration Selection Commission from Australia was due to arrive.