AMERICA, WITH LOVE
My elderly mother sent me on a mission Down Under…
Katie Essick, 68.
My 96-year-old mother, Jeanne, held out a $100 bill. “I want you to take an Australian WWII veteran out for a drink,” she instructed me.
It was April 2023, and I was about to leave the US on a trip to Australia with my husband, John, 69. He’d been selected for a three-week cultural exchange program with the physics department at the University of Newcastle.
“e Australians played an important part in the war,” Mum continued, “and they were such good friends with our troops.”
During WWII, she was studying journalism and no doubt keeping abreast of the war e ort abroad.
On top of this, my grandfather, Edward Simmonds, was a colonel in the US Marine Corps.
By all reports, the Aussie troops were highly admirable and, for Mum’s money, deserving of a little gratitude.
“I always wanted to go to Australia,” Mum explained.
I was tickled pink by her request and could see she was deadly serious.
“I’ll give it my best shot,” I assured her.
Our trip to Australia began with a tour of the south-east.
We landed in Sydney before visiting South Australia and Tasmania.
How am I going to nd a WWII vet? I wondered.
We were in Melbourne when the whole nation paused to commemorate ANZAC Day.
“Let’s go to the parade,” I suggested to John, hoping it might produce a lead. e parade was fantastic! ere were soldiers who’d served in Afghanistan and Vietnam, but spotting a WWII vet was like nding a needle in a haystack.
I think Mum still pictured the Aussie troops as 21-year-olds and hadn’t considered that their number was now sadly diminished.
is is impossible, I nally
admitted. I give up.
As we made our way to Newcastle, I worried how I’d tell Mum that the mission had failed.
But once John began his work at the uni, I had lots of time to kill. But I’m a journalist, like my mother, so I re-opened the investigation.
How can I nd a WWII vet in Newcastle? I typed into Google.
I found a recent article from the Newcastle Herald
newspaper about a Polish immigrant named Jozef Pilarski.
WWII veteran turns 100 and celebrates with his son, the article read.
at’s my man! I smiled to myself as I eyed the image of the sharply dressed centenarian.
I immediately sent an email to the Herald reporter, Alanna Tomazin, explaining my quest.
She arranged with his son, Kas, 73, for me to meet them at the Hunter Multicultural Centre (HMC).
ey’re most excited! she informed me.
A few days later, John and I drove over to the HMC with Mum’s gift, which
I’d converted into 140
How will I find a WWII vet?
Australian dollars.
We walked in to nd a large gathering of people playing bingo, who turned to inspect the newcomers.
We were recognised by Kas, who welcomed us enthusiastically.
“Come sit at our table,” he said. “I’ll wait till they’ve nished to introduce you.” At the end of the table sat Jozef, wearing a dapper trilby, and taking the bingo very seriously.
Once it had nished, Kas explained in Polish to his father that I was the woman from America who had come to see him.
Jozef’s face lit up with a wonderful smile and he kissed me on the hand.
Despite his limited English, Jozef treated me like a long-lost friend.
Yet as he and Kas conversed in Polish, I had a realisation.
I don’t think he served for Australia.
As we sat exchanging stories, my suspicions were con rmed.
While Jozef was a WWII veteran, he still lived in Poland at the time of the war.
His parents and brother were killed by the Nazis.
“I was a truck driver during the war,” he told me. Jozef had hidden under the truck during an air raid, but it left him with a damaged leg and hearing loss.
“He met Mum while he was recovering in hospital,” Kas added. “ey migrated to Australia once the war was over.”
Although this wasn’t quite what my mum had in mind, Jozef had served during the war, and he was an Australian.
Plus, he was so charming, I knew Mum would’ve loved him and I gladly handed over the cash on her behalf.
“Why is this American woman giving me money?” Jozef asked his son.
Kas explained my mother’s intentions, but it took some convincing for Jozef to accept the gift. “I want to share it,” he nally decided. Alanna from the
Herald then arrived with a photographer to capture this beautiful coming together of nations.
I felt so relieved to have ful lled my mother’s wishes and couldn’t wait to tell her when I got home.
A month later, I returned home with photos of the encounter and a copy of the newspaper article to show Mum.
“Kate, I never thought you’d be successful!” she laughed when I showed her the evidence.
She was thrilled to see her kind gesture had been so well received.
It was an unexpected mission that she tasked me with but if I hadn’t accepted I would never have made friends with an Australian veteran and his entire bingo club.
And if we ever make it back to Australia, we will de nitely stop in for another round.
I couldn’t wait to tell Mum