U:S:S America

A year to the day when my mother would not let me take the hour journey's from Reading to Attleboro, I sailed on the U.S.S. America to join my army husband in Germany.

My father and stepmom drove me to the ship In New York. He made sure I was properly installed in my stateroom, I knew where to go for meals and even made sure I met the army wife in the next stateroom. Deep down, I knew he wished he was taking the voyage.

Today my current husband asked, "What ship did you go to Germany on?" as he read an article about the U.S.S. America is sitting on the sea floor near the Canary Islands.

What memories it brought back. It was true luxury with wonderful meals, movies, a library, other army wives and young men with whom we danced the night away without sleeping with them for we were in love with our new husbands. The decorations were beautiful and I felt as if I were living in a movie. Poirot might appear at any moment.

Compared to today's cruise ships, the U.S.S. America was tiny allowing 543 passengers in cabin class, 418 in tourist class and 241 in third class, along with 643 crew members, who met our every need almost before we knew we needed something.

The ship had been sailing since 1939. No trace of its service in World War II was left when it once again became a passenger ship at war's end. However, before the renovation it carried hundreds and hundreds of returning American servicemen and women.

We ran into rough seas one night. We'd been dancing the Twist when one huge wave caused the band and all the dancers to be thrown to one side. No one was hurt but using the rope guides in the corridors we all headed to our staterooms. 

Seasickness followed. As I had a close relationship with the toilet, I had to remind myself how my ancestors from the 1600s had taken much longer than a week -- in fact months -- to cross the Atlantic from England and France. I also knew the ships they sailed on, offered far less luxury than the one I was one.

We docked in Ireland to let people off. I was shocked to look at the green land despite knowing it was called the Emerald Isle. Locals came aboard selling Irish Sweaters. I couldn't have afforded on.

We stopped next in England and then crossed the Channel, which was the roughest part of the journey. At Le Havre we were put on a train to Paris. 

An Englishman with a Cockney accent out of central casting, put me in a taxi to the correct train station. He told the driver to take me directly there and not to overcharge me. I looked at the city I thought I would never see. I didn't know then that months of being in Paris was in my future. From Paris, I made my way to Stuttgart by train where my husband was waiting.

The only other boat I've been on was my father's Grand Slam, a 38-foot cabin cruiser he built in his back yard. I was seasick on that too. I may never be a good sailor, but boy, do I treasure the memories.