THEY TRAVELLED IN STATE

New Zealand Listener, Volume 3, Issue 54, 5 July 1940, Page 3

THEY TRAVELLED IN STATE

(By 23/762)

‘T= elderly, grey-haired steward was obviously intent on impressing me. "You can have your new ships; none of them can beat this one. She’s the finest thing aficat. I've sailed in he long enough to know that." A busy chief officer had delivered me to him, to be my gu:de over one of the largest of the troopships — an elderly monarch of a famous line. Old, perhaps, as we measure such things in this age of swift change, but not all her years at sea could detract from that live beauty and impressive dignity which are the prerogative of a great liner. I remembered the day I first saw her. She was berthed in Marseilles on that memorable April morning in 1916 when my unit landed there from Egypt and all the land of France was in bloom -even the hills above and round the port. How that giant dwarfed the small ships which had carried us so swiftly across the Mediterranean from Alexandria. When I told the steward this he was determined, also, that I should see every part of that troopship. So up and up we went, climbing to the topmost deck via a staircase which would be described as "handsome" in any house-agent’s catalogue. Large paintings, classical in subject and treatment, were let into the walls, rather like the decoration in an old-world chateau. Wrouglit iron formed the balustrades. "There," said my guide proudly, "your lads won’t be cramped for space on these decks, Only a few times round and they’ll have done a mile. See those stacks! Two railway tracks could run through each of them and you'd still have plenty of space to walk about." On the first deck we went from cabin to cabin-first the private suites, each now fitted with extra beds for the accommodation of our men. Each bed with sheets and pillow-cases and coloured counterpanes; reading lamps above, fulllength mirrors to the wardrobes. But, let me add, much extra accommodation had been added in the form of bunks, because this particular ship carried over 2000 men. Passengers of the Past "This is where all the famous people travelled,’ my guide broke in. "Of course you’re not seeing her at her best, but we haven’t taken down the pictures or changed the furniture. Not so many years ago this part of the ship was remodelled at a cost of £50,000. Each suite was enlarged and redecorated, and fitted with all that makes for comfort. Each has its private bathrooms, hot and ‘cold water, and private sitting room. You can imagine how nice it looked with only two beds, the ports open end the rcom filled with flowers." I could. In each suite beautiful prints and engravings adorned the walls. Extra beds in cabins and sitting rooms occupied the space of special fitments. There was no lack of space. I wandered into a ward-

robe and thought of some Wellington flats; each bathroom was the answer to an American house advertisement in the fashionable magazines, Most of these suites, like some of the public rooms, are lined with either tapestry or delicately polished wood panels. "Famous people?" The old steward echoed my words. "Jack Dempsey was the greatest sport we ever carried and Rudolph Valentino the most unpopular. He was a funny chap. Pola Negri travelled in this suite and Greta Garbo in the next. We’ve had Gertrude Lawrence and Merle Oberon and Tom Mix and his pony. Tom was a card. He entertained the passengers by jumping his pony over the tables in the dining saloon, and while they were getting a crate ready to land his pony at Southampton, he rode it down the gangway." I edged him out in the companionway. He still wanted to impress me. "See this deck- it’s 700ft. long." Down we went, looking into comfortable cabins on the way. One lounge had been fitted with bunks to take a goodly number of men, but comfortably. Then into another. "That’s the Tourist Class lounge-the sergeants have that. There are two pianos (I noticed also a sea of comfortable chairs and couches and many pictures). Unfortunately you can’t see these rooms properly. All ports and deck windows have been painted black. We have a real blackout in this ship." Through what my guide described as the Long Gallery, with its snack bar and cocktail bar and into the principal dining saloon. "This is where most of the men dine -the officers haye that part over there (pointing to the space behind a partition). I wish you could see it as it used to be. Each table with its own lamp and banks of flowers and palms at each end and the orchestra playing. The old war’s finished all that." Even in war time, I thought, it looked fine, with its tapestry panels and great dome and galleries. Our men did not want for space or fresh air. A Famous Smoke-Room "Now I'll show you something worth seeing-the smoke-room. It’s the finest afloat! All this wood is polished British oak." It certainly wore the air of a hall in some great mansion on which peace and succeeding generations had stamped their memories — the oak dark with years, paintings by famous artists let into the walls, seascapes, battlepieces, and others of historical character. "These are all real fireplaces. We burn coal and wood here, just as you do in your own home. Not that we'll need them where we're going on this trip," he added. "Some ‘Americans have bought this lounge, just as it stands. When the ship is dismantled it will become part of a New York club."

I found it difficult to get him away. Our next call was the main lounge, famous, too, for its painted ceiling. Nothing had been altered. Even the steerage quarters are comfortable, though here again extra accommodation had been added by building in more bunks, one above the other. But there will be no queues outside bathrooms and no lack of fresh linen. As on the other ships, there is a fully-staffed laundry and clean sheets and towels each week. A swimming pool and a gymnasium were there too. A staff of stewards relieved the men of many fatigue duties, though the responsibility of keeping cabins clean is still a duty. "We'll see that your lads have a good trip," my guide called after me as- I left "We’re used to it now." From that ship I went to another — much more magnificent, much more impressive. She had more bathrooms, more luxury, more deck space, and other areas for games and drill. Once more Iam handed to a guide whose esprit de corps proved that these men are proud of their ships. We did that fine ship just as thoroughly as I had done the veteran. I was shown into one-berth and twoberth cabins which were occupied by privates of the line, but in the -suites extra beds had been fitted, though without any sign of crowding or discomfort. Pink Bathrooms In a suite which has been occupied by one famous person at a time four soldiers were to lay their tired heads on snowy pillows and splash in a’ pink porcelain bath at the end of the day. They could, if they so desired, erect-.a swing in the wardrobe, and use it with ease. In the sitting-room four more beds were added, and in the sun balcony attached to it another three. That was typical of the spaciousness of that ship.

I saw one enormous dining saloon with its 3000 electric lights; the laundry which handles 7000 pieces of linen every day in peace time. I looked into a swimming bath, forested with slim green malachite pillars, where a giant green turtle sat on guard; saw the rows of shower cubicles, a Turkish bath, and a gymnasium. I saw the’ panelled library, now the office of the Officer Commanding, and the nursery, where the signallers who slept there could amuse themselves with mechanical toys standing round the walls. I saw the huge café lounge, which might have belonged to the most modern hotel. We went through an imposing array of public rooms, looked into hundreds of cabins, a hospital and operating theatre, more lounges, bridge rooms and dining saloons, and inspected the most varied lot of clocks on any ship aficat. All the furnishings expressed the greatest possible comfort. There was a towel fo'ded on each snowy bed. An lron Cow Fresh food was not lacking on any of the ships of the convoy. Modern refrigerating plants and cold storage depots kept meat, vegetables and fruit fresh for the voyage. One ship was the proud possessor of an "iron cow" which is fed with special milk powder, butter, and water in correct proportion and provides a daily supply of milk so perfect in imitation that I was decéived into believing that I drank a glass of Wellington’s own. Wet and dry canteens were stocked and ready to open. Even the churches were not forgotten in the organisation, for in one sitting rcom, delicately furnished in green and gold, I saw a tiny altar. ae Other ships of the convoy told the same story of modern splendour and the perfection of ship construction, They dwarfed even the largest of the transports which carried the men of the 1st Expeditionary Force in the last war.