大象传媒

Am perhaps prejudiced, but am not really a fan of ocean going passenger liners or cruise ships. There is usually little change in the scenery, and therefore having walked once around the deck that is about it. The prospect of repatriation to England from Gibraltar in the middle of winter by such means, due to the shortage of available aircraft was received with mixed feelings. These were enhanced on getting on board: there was nothing wrong with the quality of the ship, as it was large, comfortable, and in its previous existence had operated as a passenger ferry between Marseilles and French North Africa. On the negative side, it had been laid up in Oran for a long time and was said to have accumulated a lot of barnacles that reduced its speed. This was considered by those on board to be why it was always at the back of the escorted convoy, and therefore the most vulnerable to attack.

The crew was very skeleton indeed: virtually invisible, but to everyone鈥檚 amazement still had its original resident steward. Among other things he appeared to be in charge of limitless supplies of (free) Algerian Burgundy which initially was enthusiastically consumed by the passengers. Such enthusiasm did not, however, last very long, as the quality of the wine was extremely dubious, and when combined with unaccustomed ship鈥檚 movement resulted in considerable discomfort to those who drank it.

The passengers themselves were few in number 鈥� probably less than a couple of dozen 鈥� and made up of miscellaneous service personnel and a few civilians. The ship was of course unarmed, but someone had mounted a gun of some kind at its stern, and although no-one knew how to operate it, the passengers in pairs sometimes stood by it in daylight hours in case of enemy attack. Shared one of these sessions with a civilian who said his name was Strachey. The ship鈥檚 grapevine said he was a Government Minister, but as a co-gunner he seemed pleasant enough.

During the passage shared cabin with a Middle Eastern Fighter Pilot being repatriated after long service around Cairo and points east. Sometimes an unnerving companion as he was likely to wake up in the middle of the night with cries of 鈥渓ook out they鈥檙e on your tail鈥� or some other alarming warning. He was clearly badly in need of some recuperative rest. Was not therefore unduly surprised when on deck one day together, he pointed to an accompanying destroyer and said he hoped his dog would be all right as the navy was looking after it.

To avoid undue contact with the enemy, the convoy went a long way west, making the voyage longer. Eventually, however, land said to be Northern Ireland was sighted. Shortly afterwards the passengers disembarked at Gourock, a depressing place to be welcomed home. Then a train to Glasgow Central when, guess what: at the platform barrier stood a Naval Officer with a large brown Middle Eastern dog on a string. All my friend said on being reunited with this animal was 鈥淚 told you the Navy would look after him鈥�.

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