Two years after arriving in England, we boarded a troop ship headed for the middle east as part of a mass convoy. The ship was American, and called the "John Ericsson". It wasn't as big as the "Andes" on which we had travelled from Canada to England, but I think it had just as many troops aboard. Every inch of space on that ship was used up. It seemed to have been designed with troop transport in mind, as there were no frills or luxuries, just whatever was needed to get the job done.
It was late fall, the same time of year we had sailed on the Andes, so we were expecting another rough ride. But we got a pleasant surprise. The sea was as calm as a mill pond during the entire trip.
Our convoy moved at the best speed of the slowest ship in the group, about 16 knots per hour. The ships employed a zig-zag course, changing direction about every two minutes. This was to make it more difficult for an enemy submarine to zero in on us as a target for one of their torpedoes.
Each time the ship changed direction, it was quite noticeable, and if you happened to be off balance at that moment, it could cause you to stumble a bit. The O.C. thought this was a good time to get all our inoculations up to date. IT would also help us pass the time. So there we were, lined up on the deck getting our needles as the ship snaked through bobbing sea. Just as the Medical Officer (M.O.) was thrusting the needle into my arm, the ship changed direction. The M.O. lost his balance and his needle hit me high on the shoulder bone and bent like a fish hook. When he pulled the needle out, it tore the flesh and skin, bleeding pretty good. He said "Whoops! I've never done that before!" They put on a bandage and gave me a shot in the other arm.
We put in more time attending lectures and sharing stories. Everyday we went through the abandon ship drill. Our quarters were at the front of the ship, down at about water level. It took us 3 or 4 minutes to get to deck from there through some very narrow passages. I'm sure a few of us had a few anxious moments the first few times we went through the drill.
Our second night in the Mediterranean Sea, the German Luftwaffe found us. They made a few bombing raids on the convoy. They hit and disabled on our our hospital ships, but an escort vessel got a line on her, and towed the ship into the Port of Algiers. Unfortunately, before it could be unloaded, it sank in the harbour, along with much needed medical supplies for troops in Italy.
When we departed from England, our destination was the Port of Algiers. But during our eight days at sea, the situation had changed. The Allies captured Naples, so we were directed there for our disembarkation. We marched through Naples to the outskirts of the city. From there, we boarded trucks that took us to a small village near the base of Mount Vesuvius. Still on the move, we bivouacked until we received the equipment needed to function as an engineer unit in action.
For shelter, we lived in pup-tents. The rainfall could be quite heavy at that time of year, so we were initiated immediately into the mud of Italy. It would be our nemesis, during the wet seasons, over our next 19 months in Italy.
We had our first casualty early in the morning on our first day. Everyone was just starting to stir about, when over came the Luftwaffe. They strafed our position pretty good, and "Smitty", from our troop, received a flesh wound in the buttocks. It was a month before he returned to us from the hospital. Smitty's only complaint was he would never be able to show the scar from the wound he had received in action, while serving his country during the war years in Italy.
