HMS Queen Elizabeth

Without any notice we were advised to pack our duffel bags, gather our equipment and march to the ship.  This was the 10th of December, 1942.  The ship was the Queen Elizabeth, the largest cruise ship built.  It had been refurbished as a troop ship for war use.

It was a supreme effort to march up the ramp carrying all the equipment and a strain to make it to the top deck.  We were air force; therefore, we were billeted in the most luxurious suites.  We even had a porthole, but this suite for two persons, maybe four at the most, was now temporary home for some twenty men.  The only place for all our gear was the bunk where we were to sleep.  I had a lower bunk.  In all this crowd of equipment there was hardly room to dress or undress.

It came as a bit of a surprise to us that we were crossing the ocean at the season of the most storms.  We had no sooner set sail than the ship started to roll and this was a big ship.  Sometimes when walking in the corridors, it was necessary to brace yourself with one foot on the floor and one on the wall.  The men who were billeted in the lower decks suffered from seasickness, and some were very sick.  I stayed on deck in the wind and fresh air and read to keep my mind off all the seasickness and smell.

The food was great.  Many weren’t eating so there was plenty.  I ate and enjoyed it, but eating was a deeply serious activity and careful balancing act.  As the ship rolled, the dishes and silverware would slide on the table, and it took quick action to save your food from sliding off the table, let alone the service dishes on the table.  After eating I’d hurry back on deck and get into the fresh air.  Some of the guys I was with played poker all day, and like all poker games I’ve always noticed certain fellows would win all the money, and there were certain ones who always ended up losing their money to the winners.  The game never appealed to me.  It couldn’t be much fun with the anxiety of losing and winning.

The rolling of the ship was greatly exaggerated by the fact that the ship’s course was changed every five minutes as a protection against submarine attack.  The rolling continued, and we became adjusted.  I even figured a way to sleep in order to hold myself in a steady position in the bunk.  I packed my gear in with me so that no matter how the ship rolled I stayed in a firm position.  We had life vests supplied to us as we boarded the ship and had to wear them at all times.  We had at least one life boat drill every day, and on our last day we had what could have been the real thing and not a drill.  We understood a submarine had been sighted and couldn’t be identified.  Everyone was quiet and orderly, and I wondered if we could possibly survive in this cold water even if we got into the life boats and got away from the ship.  The submarine disappeared and the alarm was cancelled.  It was our last drill and the most eventful one.  We landed the next morning in Scotland.

It was wonderful to get off that ship, to feel solid ground under foot.  We left our life vests on the ship.  We were all glad to leave with them all the possible submarines we had dreaded.

©Joseph H. Harrison 1999