“When my son was learning about WWII in the 1970’s, I prepared this article to document my journey to Europe.
I left the United States for an unknown destination on 21 April 1944 on the S.S. Joseph N. Teal with my 420th Signal Company (120 men) and hundreds more onboard.
After being at sea a few days, we learned we were going to Italy. At that time, Italy was the only place on the European continent where the US Army was actively engaged in ground combat with Germany.
While crossing the Atlantic in early 1944 was still very hazardous because of the German U- boat threat, the Mediterranean was a much greater risk. I was not concerned. Youth and ignorance were on my side.
The convoy stretched from horizon to horizon. Among the many ships were an aircraft carrier and other warships. Even our ship, a merchant carrier, was fitted with some formidable weapons operated by a US Navy gun crew. I felt safe and secure. This was a great adventure and I was looking forward to the crossing.
Progress was slow as the ships in the convoy zigged and zagged, in unison, across the Atlantic.
Our own company cooks prepared the meals…Fresh fruit and vegetables, which were plentiful the first few days, soon were exhausted. Rice and dehydrated eggs and potatoes replaced the fresh food.
Second servings, which had been standard, were no longer available. For the first time in my life, I experienced real, genuine hunger…(Only after reaching Italy and observing real starvation among the local population did I finally realize what hunger really was.)
The great adventure I had envisioned slowly gave way to reality. The daily routine of calisthenics, meager meals that looked and tasted pretty much the same as yesterdavs, the lack of fresh water showers, and general boredom soon took its toll on morale.
I would slip up on deck at night just to get away from the mass of humanity. Rows of bunks, five high, about eighteen inches apart, filled the ship’s cargo hold…Those in the lower bunks were in jeopardy of nausea showers from sea sick GIs above.
The morale officer organized USO type skits for entertainment. GIs, dressed as females, brought howls of laughter. They looked comically ridiculous in their make shift skirts, Improvised breast augmentation, rag mop hairpieces, hairy legs, and clumsy Gl boots.
Another morale booster was the Red Cross gifts. We each received a drawstring bag filled with toilet articles, a sewing kit and a candy bar. The candy was a single Baby Ruth bar. It was indeed a welcome sight, a magnificent feast…I lay in my bunk, slowly removed the wrapper and took a small nibble…I slowly devoured the entire bar in this manner, making it last as long as possible.
As we approached Gibraltar, the Navy gun crews uncovered their weapons and fired a few practice rounds. Most of us sat on deck and watched attentively as the crew prepared to load and fire.
Early the next morning…The ship was silent. There was no sound from the engine room or no sound of the screw moving the ship though the water…I rushed up on deck. There ahead about a mile was the rock of Gibraltar.
However, the convoy was gone. True to plan, if any ship experienced trouble, the convoy would continue. Overhead was a British flying boat at mast altitude slowing circling our ship and watching for submerged German submarines. German U-boats favored the Straits of Gibraltar.
The narrowing of the Atlantic Ocean to meet the Mediterranean Sea provided a narrow funnel through which all allied convoys bound for Italy must pass. Eventually, a British tug towed the ship into the safety of Gibraltar harbor.
We remained there for a week for repairs…Just prior to leaving the safety of the harbor, we assembled on the ship’s fantail for an unexpected briefing. German planes using remotely controlled glider bombs had attacked the convoy…There was a loss of ships and lives.
When exiting the harbor, massive underwater gates were opened to let our ship through…
The next day, two German planes observed us from a distance, but did not attack. Then, the Mediterranean experienced a severe storm with heavy seas and low visibility. This storm slowed our progress, but provided much needed protection until we were near Sicily and allied naval and air power.
Finally, on 23 May 1944, we reached the safety of harbor at Bari, Italy. Thirty-three days had elapsed since departing the United States.” •
story and photos submitted by James Ferguson
