GARY KRAISINGER (1467-1990) sends this first-person memory of WWII, told to him by a friend who lived it. She writes:

"Having been asked to dig into the past of about 50 years ago, this is only a vaguely coherent collection of memories which gradually come to mind.....a small portion of a journey taken by sea during the Second World War.

It was January 1943 when I boarded a cargo ship with 10 other passengers.....one other woman and myself making up the numbers. We sailed out of Columbo Harbor, heading for England, the date of our arrival unknown. We were each allotted very cramped cabins which eventually turned out to be out home for the next 3 months. .

Time passed pleasantly enough for the first few weeks, playing a form of deck cricket with the crew, learning about the stars and picking out the Southern Cross, and watching the beauty of the flight of the Albatross which followed us for several days. After a while, it was decided that it was unsafe for me to sleep in the cabin, so an improvised shelter was set up for me on the top deck and from then on I slept fully clad with a few treasured possessions tied round my waist, for the rest of the journey.

After several weeks at sea, we entered Durban Harbor and although I had loved every moment at sea, it was good to step onto firm ground for a few days. We then continued on to Capetown and again, we had a few days on shore.

On leaving Capetown, we were joined by a convoy of 17 ships, shepherded by destroyers. Our ship was allocated a position in the center of the convoy. It seems we had a certain amount of ammunition in our mixed cargo.

All continued uneventfully until one night the alarm sirens signaled that submarines had located us. The next moment, all was noise and chaos. I stayed on deck and watched the convoy zig-zag. I saw a torpedo hit the ship immediately in front of us. It entered the engineroom - a harrowing sight as we had to stand helplessly by while the crew who had survived jumped overboard. Orders were that only the destroyers were allowed to stop to pick up survivors. The attack continued for some time with the destroyers dropping their depth charges.

At morning light, it was found that only 9 of the ships had come through the attack, we being one of the fortunate ones. The sea was littered with large bales and an assortment of cargo from those ships that had not survived the attack.

We sailed into the West African port of Freetown where we sweltered for 2 weeks. The ship took on coal and left us covered in coal dust, and only on one occasion were we allowed to land for a few hours. So we were not sorry to leave.

Off on the last lap! Out of the harbor we joined another convoy. This time I understood we were 70 ships, I believe, one of the largest convoys of the war. All went smoothly for a few days until we were spotted by German planes. As they flew overhead, we saw the bombs falling but fortunately, failing to make a hit. Providentially, the next day, thick fog surrounded us and remained for 3 days and they were unable to locate us. The constant noise of 70 fog horns was something we were happy to leave behind when the convoy eventually dispersed to various ports. We berthed at a port in Scotland.

Strange to say - I would happily live those months over again."