Sat., Sept. 5, 1942—Left New York harbor on the Queen Mary. Crowded conditions. No escort. When will we see the Statue of Liberty again?
Sun., Sept. 6, 1942—This is a fast ship (about 36 knots per hr.). We zigzag all the time and change course every nine minutes to confuse enemy submarines.
| This boat is really crowded. In fact, there’s only one difference between us and sardines—sardines smell better. I found early in the trip that there are two ways to get into your bunk—one of them doesn’t scrape all the hide off your back. At first I hated not being able to wash up often; but one morning, after finally fighting my way to the wash trough, I saw my face in the mirror. I decided that washing wasn’t worth the lowering of morale that came from looking in the mirror. There’s such a variety of things to do that I can’t decide what to do with myself. Shall I fight through to the rail and look at the water, or shall I crawl back into my bunk? From my spot behind these liferafts I can see in almost any direction—if it’s up. One old sergeant in my outfit has finally been reduced to talking to himself. One of his favorite observations seems to be, “What I like about this boat is that it’s not crowded.” One nice thing about our bunks—if you lie on your side, you won’t stick over the edge and be in danger of being hit by equipment falling down from the bunks above. I didn’t mind so much being hit in the head by that steel helmet and canteen full of water last night; but when that pair of dirty socks came down, my food almost came up. I guess that soldier had had his on as long as I have had mine. |
Mon., Sept. 7, 1942—It’s reported that a German radio broadcast said this boat is now at the bottom of the sea. What does that make us?
| When someone asked M/Sgt. McMahon today why he didn’t give his face a break by shaving it, he said, “Why should I do anything for my face? It’s never done anything for me.” If you could see his face, you’d know that he wasn’t kidding. |
Tues., Sept. 8, 1942—It’s rumored that we turned off course a 1000 miles or so to escape a U-boat nest.
Wed., Sept. 9, 1942—Was on guard over our Sqdn. safe tonight (in the bowels of the ship), got a little seasick, and puked in my helmet. I would have been O.K. if my relief hadn’t been 15 minutes late.
| If you could have seen me tonight, my Love, you wouldn’t have thought me a very romantic sight. The boat was rolling quite a bit while I was on guard over our Sqdn. safe, and I became rather miserable—finally up-chunking in the only thing available, my steel helmet. |
Thurs., Sept. 10, 1942—It gives one a lonely feeling to have nothing around but water. This boat is really crowded. We eat twice a day.
Fri., Sept. 11, 1942—Landed at Gourock, Scotland, on River Clyde near Loch Lomond. Left in blacked-out train for England.
Sat., Sept. 12, 1942—Disembarked from train at Bury St. Edmunds in Suffolk County, East Anglia. Stationed three miles away at Rougham.
Sun., Sept. 13, 1942—We’re living in Nissan huts (“tin”) with cement floors, coal stoves, and steel cots.
Mon., Sept. 14, 1942—A heavy guard is required by Group. That seems a bit odd when we see the British (who have been at war for years) may have one lone guy with a club as their only guard over a big area.
Wed., Sept. 16, 1942—Everybody in England seems to own a bicycle, and lots of our guys are buying them too.
Sun., Sept. 20, 1942—Bury St. Edmunds is an interesting old town. I go in every few days to see a show. Dave Frieze and I generally go around together.
Thurs., Oct. 1, 1942—I think it was this date we moved from Rougham to Horham (still in Suffolk).
Fri., Oct. 23, 1942—Frieze and I left Horham for a 3-day pass to London. Caught train at Diss. Arrived in London about 8:00 p.m. Registered at Washington Club (Red Cross hotel for service men).
Sat., Oct. 24, 1942—Saw “Yankee Doodle Dandy.” Went to dance at Paramount Theatre. We dated two sisters. It’s difficult not to woo war-time English gals . . . Saw “Between Us Girls” at Leicester Square Theatre. Cokes and cookies at the Washington Club. Nice beds, clean sheets, and a bath—2s6p a night.
Sun., Oct. 25, 1942—Went to St. Paul’s Cathedral this afternoon. Saw Eleanor Roosevelt this a.m. St. Paul’s was beautiful anyway! (Later: that was mean of me; I learned to have a lot of respect for Eleanor Roosevelt.) . . . Saw “Venus Comes to Town”—not bad. Saw “Moontide.” Saw Buckingham Palace this morning but missed the changing of the guard. Back to Horham!