大象传媒

It was on the morning of September the 9th 1945 that we said goodbye to the smoke and grime of Liverpool, and slipped silently out into the drizzle and fog of the Mersey at its worst, after travelling all night from Portsmouth, loading and unloading kit and having only sandwiches and hard buns for 24 hours.

So it was the emptiness inside us that we boarded the troopship 鈥淪.S.Scythia鈥� en route for far distance Quebec, and there was a bigger feeling of emptiness and ache in our hearts as we saw the dock buildings merging into the fog, for it would be many long days before we saw them again.

The ship was packed to capacity with Canadian service men returning to their native land for demobilisation.

Long before we had settled down in our living spaces aboard, the ship was rolling and pitching with every prospect of doing everything in its power to drown our already soaking spirits, and we had no sooner left the shelter of the Mersey than we ran into a Howling gale, which lasted for three days.

The living conditions on board were terrible and so was the food, so in all it was grim to put it mildly.

Most of the time was spent sleeping, and one incident occurred which stopped even that for a while, the forward hatch cover was washed away and tons of water poured on to our hammocks, cases and bags were floating everywhere.

The weather cleared up considerably shortly before we sighted Newfoundland and by the time land was clearly visible we were lounging on the upper deck in glorious sunshine.

We passed round the northern tip of Newfoundland in to the Gulf of the St. Lawrence passing through the channel between Anacosta Island and the main land, and then meandering on our way through the hundreds of islands large and small which dot the mouth of this mighty river.

This last part of the trip was truly a tourist鈥檚 delight, with ships passing to and fro we gradually push our way steadily further up stream, and as the river banks gradually come more into view we can see that they drop down very steeply to the water鈥檚 edge and are heavily wooded with Spruce and Fur with jagged butted of rock sticking up here and there.

The night on the river impressed me immensely, it was perfect, with a full moon hanging like a golden ball in a sky of black velvet, and throwing its light in a golden swath on the placid waters of the river, and in the distance low in the water could be seen jet black smudges which were islands.

We were steaming straight up this path of gold, and even the wind in the rigging seemed to be hushed by the awe-inspiring serenity of such a night.

The next day dawned bright and clear with a slight nip of early frost in the air, a sign of the winter creeping on.

Onwards we went until at last we sighted our destination, the great sea port of Quebec with its houses and docks shining in the afternoon sun, dead ahead over our bows, with its historic fort overlooking the docks.

As we draw nearer ferryboats come alongside with bands playing, welcoming back their country鈥檚 sons who have been away fighting for the cause of freedom in distant lands.

Then to the accompaniment of the wailing of ship sirens, the heavy lines flew through the air and we were alongside. The first stage of our journey over.

The Mayor of Quebec spoke from the quay and then amidst roll upon roll of cheering the first of the Canadian troops went ashore, back on their homeland once more. We stayed on board until the last, clearing and tidying up.

It was 5.30pm. On the 18th. When we disembarked and set foot on Canadian soil for the first time and marched across the dockyard to the train which was to be our home for the next five days.

The Canadian Red Cross was very good to us here, coming around the train with ice cream, chocolate biscuits, milk and fruit. We were to find more evidence of their kindness throughout the journey ahead.

The stations in this country are very strange having no platforms, just railway sleepers sunk in the earth, and one has to climb up steps into the cars.

We didn鈥檛 have any time to look around Quebec which was a pity as I should have liked to had a look at the place.

鈥楾his story was submitted to the People鈥檚 war site by Munaza Rafiq of the CSV Action Desk 大象传媒 Radio Stoke. On behalf of Eric Lawrence Smith and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.鈥�

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