HOPPERS Crossing resident Elizabeth and her siblings endured a childhood so traumatic many would find it difficult to believe.
In September 1948, they were a normal family in the small township of Munro, near Sale, when their father visited the doctor and was diagnosed with tuberculosis.
As Elizabeth, who did not want her surname used, recalled last week, her father was admitted to Heidelberg Repatriation Hospital for treatment.
With her mother pregnant with her eighth child, the couple approached a local policeman and his wife, who were members of the Red Cross, and they offered to have the children - aged between 17 months and 11 years - cared for at Berwick Children's Home.
"Within a week, the arrangements had been made and my parents were sat down and told we would only be away for a short time," she said.
"I was only four years old, but remember they told my oldest sister to look after us and about a week later a policewoman came and took us.
"It was very exciting because we were going on a train ride."
However, the train didn't stop at Berwick, instead travelling all the way to Melbourne.
She was never to see her father again.
"The police officer from the Red Cross had gone behind our back and had us classified as neglected children and we were taken to Royal Park Remand Centre," she said.
"Five days later he appeared in court, we were made wards of the state.
"I remember kicking and screaming wanting to get out, but if you cried, they would hold you down and belt you.
"It took two months before they processed us and decided it would be in our best interests to move us to the Ballarat Orphanage."
Many years later Elizabeth tried to access her files from Royal Park, but was told all the records had been destroyed in a fire.
Once the siblings arrived at the orphanage they were again separated, with Elizabeth placed in the toddlers' block on her own.
"It was difficult not being able to feel the tender touch of a mother's love, a hug or a kiss, to be tucked in at night and to be surrounded by the security of family," she said.
"It was extremely traumatic and I started wetting the bed and as punishment the sheets would be rubbed in my face. Many times I would be made to stand outside in the cold at night without any clothes on. They [orphanage staff] would also force me to take my nightie off and stand at the end of the bed, and wouldn't change the sheets until they felt like it.
"If you didn't want the food or gave it away, they would force feed you or tip the bowl on your head."
As the years went on, Elizabeth slowly realised the chances of seeing her parents again were slipping away.
"When I started school at the orphanage, I would sit in the playground looking up at the cars on the outside hoping one would come along and take us back home," she said.
"I would cry myself to sleep every night, but they would just say 'stop being such a sook'.
"They made us do everything from scrubbing and polishing the floors, to doing the dishes and making the beds.
"We were stripped of our dignity and self-worth. They broke our spirits and controlled our lives with extreme violence - it was a living hell.
"I was about nine years old and still wetting the bed and they paraded the boys around in girls clothing and the girls in boys clothing.
"We were then told we were pigs and marched up to the pig farm."
Eventually, Elizabeth began to lose hope. "I started to believe our parents had abandoned us, and when my mother and grandmother paid a visit I was angry because they couldn't take us with them," she said.
"By this time, my parents had moved to NSW for my father's health, and it wasn't until years later I found out they had been constantly writing to the welfare department and MPs pleading for our return."
Elizabeth was sent into the community to perform domestic duties before she was released from the orphanage at the age of 18.
She found it difficult to adapt to life and to relate to adults, apart from her husband Arthur, who she met at 19 and who has helped her work through her issues over the years.
However, when she saw her mother, she said they felt like strangers.
The siblings finally tracked their father down in January this year - he had been buried in Perth - and held a memorial service.
"For years, I would just hide my feelings and emotions," she said.
"I couldn't talk about what I went through, it's really only been after receiving specialist counselling that I've been able to control the pain."
On November 16, Prime Minister Kevin Rudd will make a formal apology to the 500,000 people abused in orphanages and public institutions, dubbed the "Forgotten Australians".
"I'm just sorry my parents were unable to receive an apology for a lifetime of grief and heartache after having their children snatched from their care. We were all robbed of the chance to grow up as a family," Elizabeth said. "It should never be allowed to happen again - never."
For more information on the Forgotten Australians interim service, which provides counselling and assistance to survivors of childhood institutional care in Victoria, call 1800509203.
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