Child migrant's biography exposes Christian Brothers' abuse

A biography of a child migrant from the United Kingdom has shed light on the brutal treatment he and others endured at the hands of the Christian Brothers in Western Australia.

Norman "Johno" Johnston, now 83, was one of thousands of children sent from an orphanage to Australia after World War II as part of a program to rebuild the country with "good British stock". His story, recorded and written by his former wife Kathleen O'Reilly Johnston, has been released during Child Protection Week.

"We were told quite emphatically, not only did your parents abandon you, your country's abandoned you as well," Mr Johnston said.

Mr Johnston spent more than six years at Castledare Junior Orphanage and later Clontarf, where he was stripped of his identity and suffered significant ongoing abuse.

"The brutal floggings that went on were ad hoc," he said. "There was very seldom a reasonable reason for half of the pain that was meted out."

"For example, having a dirty jumper warranted, you know, six of the best on the stage in front of the whole school, sort of thing."

He describes being almost drowned after witnessing the sexual abuse of another boy.

"I've been told I've got PTSD from an incident where a brother, one of the brothers, tried to drown me because I caught him interfering with another boy at Castledare," he said.

"I was taken out into the middle of the Canning River, forced underwater, and he shot through, left me in the middle of the river and I couldn't swim a stroke."

Life after the orphanage

At 15, Mr Johnston was considered too old for school and was sent to work on a farm where he lived in a shed with no windows and very little pay.

"Working 100 hours a week for two pound five a week," he said.

"That was my lot for two and a half years until suddenly out of nowhere a welfare officer turned up."

Mr Johnston joined the army and served in Vietnam before meeting Kathleen O'Reilly in the 1960s.

"The children are definitely the glue to the relationship that exists today, and of course, that's been overtaken now by the grandchildren," he said.

"So yeah, we have an understanding, we have a mutual respect based on the family ethics of what we need to do."

Writing the biography

Ms O'Reilly Johnston said she had felt compelled for a number of years to write Norman's story.

"The older that I became, the more extraordinary I realised the story is," she said.

"And it is a part of our history, maybe not a very nice part, but I'm just wondering if you'd give me permission to write it."

His initial response was 'no' and I didn't take no for an answer.

Ms O'Reilly Johnston would make the long drive from her home in WA's Wheatbelt to Mr Johnston's home in the southern suburbs of Perth each week.

She would ask questions, hand-write Mr Johnston's answers, cross-check and reference his memories with evidence from historical sources, and then return the manuscripts for him to check.

"It just occurred in increments until we ended up with a book," she said.

Norman Johnston checked the manuscript every step of the way.

Weeks before the book went to print, Kathleen checked again that Norman was OK with publishing, particularly in relation to the sexual abuse.

"His response was that yes, it does sort of put him in a more vulnerable light, but it is also such a part of the story, such a part of the truth, that he would prefer that it remain in there, which I thought was incredibly brave."