Aunt Daisy's Trip To America (3)

New Zealand Listener, Volume 11, Issue 280, 3 November 1944, Page 22

Aunt Daisy's Trip To America (3)

The Outward Journey (Contd.) HE ‘ship was a new one, on | her first voyage. We carried a large number of American sérvicemen, Time passed quickly enough, although there were none of the organised deck sports and pastimes of peacetime travel-no deckchairs on spacious decks, no luxurious lounges. The sailors knocked together a couple: of rough benches for sitting on the deck, but most of the people just put down their life jackets and sat on them; or lay on the hatches, Everybody improved in health every day, with lying in the sun, good and regular meals, and above all, the peace of mind and happiness of knowing that a long spell of difficult duty and, in most cases, a period of sickness in hospital, lay behind them, and that America was drawing nearer every hour. Some had been very ill. One young officer, who started off happily enough, though emaciated and a very unhealthy colour, had a relapse into a very bad condition, of what for want of a better word I may call boils, though they were very much more terrible than that implies, and spread even to his eyelids. Yet he refused to stay in bed- having already had weeks of hospital-and kept amazingly cheerful; he said that as soon as he could get penicillin his condition ‘would be’cleared up in eight hours. I thought of that boy when I was being shown the Penicillin Laboratories in Pennsylvania. The "Chow Line" The first thing we used to hear in the morning was a cheerful Yankee voice through the loud-speaker system saying "This is Revelly!" and then giving a list of half-a-dozen names of men who were to report to the galley. Soon we could hear all the men astir; and when I opened door of our dormitory to go up "deck for fresh air

efter the rather trying night -for the blackout was very strict, and we had been shut in since dusk the evening before -I would have to slip through the long, long "chow-line" outside. The "chow-line" was the queue of men going gradually to their breakfast. Each one carried his aluminium table-ware-a dish divided into separate compartments for meat, vegetables, pudding, etc., and mugs, knife, fork and spoon. The queue was very long indeed. The men had two good meals a day, and soup and crackers at lunch time. Even so, I think it took all day long to get them all through. They were cheerful, and very polite always to us, as we passed through the fine; in the evenings they sat about on the floor of the big hold playing cards or reading. The heat was often pretty bad, in spite of the airconditioning. The officers and passengers had three meals a day and no "chowline." s The food was good and plentiful; w often had turkey and chicken, besides pork, and lots of minced mixtures, The bread was particularly good. We had succotash (a concoction of beans and corn) and fried potatoes and bacon and eggs. And bottled cherries and canned pineapple and grapes and _ chocolate blancmange. When the weather got hot, which it did after the first two days, we had big jugs of iced tea on the table. The coffee was excellent, as is all American coffee; and the tea was all right, too, though it was made American fashion, by putting a little bag of tea into the cup and pouring boiling water on. Then you press the bag with your spoon until it is steeped enough, after which you put the bag into the saucer and drink the tea. It does not taste quite like "teapot tea,’ but you get used to it-as long as the water really is boiling, which they don’t think matters much! The tea is sold in packets of little bags, each bag tie enough for a cupful. Movies and Church Services Most of the officers were Army and Navy. surgeons, or psychiatrists on their way to new duty areas, after months on the Islands. They were very interesting to talk to, and no two seemed to think alike on any matter. There were men who knew every capital in Europe, besides South Africa, South America, India and the Philippines. I used to like to sit and listen to them talking together. The young officers were Army or Air Force; they used to form groups with the nurses and talk of their war experiences-which also made fascinating listening. ’ One. very popular passenger was "the Professor’-Lloyd Powell, the English pianist and examiner for Trinity College, London. He had just finished examining in New Zealand, and was on his way to Canada. He has an inexhaustible fund of humorous anecdotes of his travels. He and I, and two non-bridge players among the doctors, used to play dominoes in the evening. The only (continued on next page)

(continued from previous page) sitting-room was the dining room when it was not in use for the three sittings at meal-times, or preparations for them. It was quite small, and not air-condi-tioned; and used to get very hot at nighttime with five or six bridge tables and a fairly large poker school-all the men smoking cigars and all the women cigarettes (except me), and a very strict blackout stopping any air from outside. Sometimes there would be moving pictures down in our hold, outside our dormitory. Everybody went, of course, and we sat on the floor. We had to show the picture to relays of men, in afternoons and evenings; there were far too many of them for one showing. We had church services there, too. The chaplain was American, and an excellent man, and the services on Sunday morning were very well attended. He had a little field-service altar table which could be used for Catholics or. Protestants by reversing the top part. He was the only chaplain on board, and was the friend of every one of the men. Moments of Excitement Twice there was a ripple of excitement that q ship had been sightedbut each time it turned out to be "one of ours." The last two days we ran into a real storm. The ship had very little ballast, and she rolled and pitched and tossed and danced all at once. The meal times must have been nightmares for the stewards, for over and over again everything on the tables would crash to the floor, yet they reset them even with jugs of milk, bottles of sauce and everything. The old negro waiter at my table felt shaky and nervous, and turned a queer colour. One evening, after 10 minutes of exceptionally rough tossing when anyone could have been excused for feeling a bit anxious, the sea seemed to quieten for a bit, as it does sometimes, I said to him, "Why, Terry, it is getting better, I think,’ and the old darky, rolling his eyes till they seemed all whites and no colour, replied, "Mis’ Daisy, when Jesus Christ was on. dis earth, He said one day to the storm, ‘Peace, be still’ — and I guess maybe He’s sayin’ it now." Later in the night, when the storm got worse, I thought of the simple faith of that old coloured man. The sea was still very rough as we passed through the Golden Gate at sunset next day. I shall never forget the beauty ‘of that evening-the clouds ail rolled back, the rich colours of the sunset, the big green hills behind the lovely harbour, and the feeling of security now that we had arrived safely. Everybody crowded the decks, thrilled to pass under the wonderful Golden Gate Bridge-it always looks as though the mast must knock against it, until you really do pass under it, with room to spare. Loud groans from the troops greeted the nonchalant announcement through the loudspeaker-‘"Now you can all take it easy, because nobody’s goin’ ashore to-night." So we had to content ourselves with the lovely sight of the brilliantly-lighted city of San Francisco, the long Oakland Bridge, with trains passing along its lower deck like lighted snakes, and losing themselves in the tunnel; and the beautiful, graceful sweep of the Golden Gate Bridge across the harbour; and then away to bed,. to dream of to-morrow’s new adventure, (To be continued)