大象传媒

My journal on the Liberty Ship Samstrule, dated Monday, March 19, 1945 reads as follows:
Stripped Jumbo to day. Mucking around derricks all day. Swedish Red Cross Ship SUORVA alongside. Working bell to bell. Shipped ashore in staff car. Thumbed it to Athens. Went to the Acropolis. Saw it by moonlight. Met smashing girl, the keeper's daughter. In house drinking vermouth. Hitched back.

I'm not sure now what all of that means, but there was a lot left out .
My friend, the apprentice, and I climbed what seemed to be a long rocky road to the Acropolis and arrived at a small house at, or near, the top. As the Acropolis appeared closed for the night we knocked on the door of the house and a pretty girl about 20 opened it.
At first there was a language problem. We could not speek Greek and she could not speak English. However, my friend and the girl could speak a bit of French and that solved the communication problem to some degree.
She had words with someone inside who turned out to be her
father, and we were invited into the house. The Dad offered us some vermouth, which we accepted. He then asked if we had any cigarettes. Cigarettes were the currency of the war zone and I had a shirt full. I emptied them on the table but it turned out he did not want to buy them: he only wanted a smoke. So I gave him a package and loaded the rest back in my shirt .
The girl then took us on a tour of the Acropolis under a black velvet, star-studded sky. She would try to explain information about the Parthanon in French and then my friend would translate for me. I would ask a question in English and my friend would try to translate for her. It was a very interesting evening.
I revisited the Parthanon this year. I did not see the rocky road, nor the keeper, nor his daughter, nor the little house. It now seems more like a dream, but a very pleasant dream.

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