WWII: Ferrying troops across the Channel

Continued from Thursday

When the Nazi army broke though our lines at the Ardennes Salient just before Christmas, all hell broke loose and we were very busy for a while as just about everyone in England able to shoulder a gun and every truck able to run was rushed across the channel and on to the front. We had a young black kid, one of the “Black Gang” who met a buddy of his with a transport outfit we took across about that time. He got the Chief’s blessing to go ashore with his buddy in France, strictly a no-no, and ended up very close to the front with Patton’s counter-attack before he was able to talk his way out and get back to the ship. We had returned to Southampton by then so he got a ride back on another ship. A lot of Libertys were being released about that time, but the “Woody” was not one of them, so he was able to rejoin us, considerably wiser!

As I mentioned before, our primary function was to transport vehicles across the Channel. Each vehicle had a driver and perhaps one or two additional troops. As we hauled about 175 vehicles per trip, this meant that we had 300-400 additional people on board. Our crew numbered about 40, plus 10 Armed Guard Navy personnel to maintain and man our guns, so adding that many bodies made for rather crowded conditions on board. My station when getting under way from either dock or anchorage, was forward with the Carpenter and a few crewman to handle either the bowlines or the anchor. When troops were aboard it was very difficult to handle this assignment with dozens of curious soldiers in our way, and there are times when I had to use some very colorful language to move them out of the way, particularly in view of the fact that mooring lines that snap or anchor chain that gives way can be very dangerous. One time as we were securing for sea after leaving Southampton, a soldier came up to me and asked if I graduated from Haverford High School in 1941. I’ve long since forgotten his name but he was a classmate who also sang in our a-capella choir. Rather than bunk in the horrible troop quarters, he slept on the settee in my room and I brought him up some meals from our galley.

Continues Saturday

Frank Varga lives in River Bend. Send your WWII diaries submission to rfoster@freedomenc.com.