November 1941

His wife and son in the background

This morning dawned not unlike any other except perhaps for a slight rain that was falling. When we were aroused at 5 o’clock. I say not unlike – perhaps it was but is not this the great day each and everyone of us have been waiting for, for so long; some of us looking forward to, perhaps some of us dreading. All those tedious months of training camps have at last reached a climax for is not this the dawn of a great adventure, new to most of us. There was a considerable amount of last minute preparations such as packing etc. and then followed a traditional march from our barracks on the Durban beach front to the docks where we received our first glimpse of the stout ship that was to take us forward into the unknown.
It was 10am before we went aboard the Landaff Castle and as we were not quite sure as to the day of our actual departure I immediately set about procuring shore leave to enable me to wish one or two of my friends goodbye. This was granted, and one o’clock this afternoon saw me going down the gangplank to have my last look at Durban and South Africa. I wonder if it will be the last look? I could not help this thought stealing into my mind for are we not going to a war. I quickly forced that black thought from my mind and set out to see my mother who I did not find in very happy circumstances and try as I might I could not console her. I can quite understand her predicament as I can honestly say I do not envy the prospect that lies ahead of me, but it is what I have pledged myself to, and it is what I intend to carry out to the best of my ability. Just before supper this evening I managed to put through a long distance telephone call to my wife and again that black thought crept into my mind – Is this the last time I will speak to her! Lord no, I will c9ome back, I will, I must!

I was awoken at 7.30this morning by a tug making a terrific noise on its whistle as it was escorting two other troop ships out of the harbour that are to said in our convoy. From early this morning until we sailed saw hundreds of people flocking the rails that bounds the ship in a desperate endeavour to catch a few glimpses of their loved one. While all the time a woman who is commonly known to all convoys passing through Durban as the “Angel”, sang continuously even right up to midday when we started to pull out, and the distance between the ship and the shore grew greater, her voice drifted across the water.
I am afraid there were many tears shed all around and as much as I should have liked my wife to have been here to have one last look, I am thankful she is not, as it is rather a morbid experience.

Once out to sea we had our first boat drill and although the sea was as calm as a mill pond, there were many fellows looking very pale in the face and some already feeding the fish, but my time was too preoccupied swallowing the lump in my throat caused through seeing South Africa fade away in the mist.
I eventually pulled myself together, had a couple of beers and tried to sleep, but found this rather impossible not only through torture of the mind, but as strict blackout precautions have to be observed and all port holes closed. I find the heat in the cabin quite unbearable.