Memory Lane

In April 1942, my mother, sister and I were aboard the British steamship, Ulysses, returning to England from Australia.

On the way through the Panama Canal, our mother left the vessel to stroll along the quay and stretch her legs. During those few minutes, she was engaged in conversation by a man we later learned was a German spy. He warned her to leave the ship because it would never reach England.

A short time later, on a foggy night in the Caribbean, we were awakened by the sound of an almighty crash. The Ulysses had collided with a freighter. The bows had been stoved in and our speed had been reduced to a few knots.

A few days after the collision, my sister and I were consigned to our bunks for an hour’s rest after lunch. Suddenly, there was a tremendous thud, then another that shook the whole ship. We could hear shouting and screaming and people running along the corridor.

We joined the fugitives and scrambled on to the deck. We were pushed into a lifeboat and it was lowered into a heavy swell. There were cries of ‘Watch out! Keep the boat’s head to the waves!’ Someone called out, ‘The sun’s going down. We’ll all be frozen to death by morning.’ He was told, ‘Shut up! There are children here.’

Everyone went very quiet. A torpedo cut through the waves. It seemed to be coming straight for us but it missed us by a few yards, struck the hull of the ship a glancing blow and continued its journey across the sea.

There was a huge gasp of relief. ‘It’s a dud,’ someone cried. ‘Probably made in Czechoslovakia.’ The boilers of the Ulysses blew up, producing a giant cloud of steam. Then she settled – ‘like an old lady making a curtsey’, my mother said – and disappeared.

Hours later, on the western horizon, against the last glimmer of light in the sky, the outline of an American Navy corvette was spotted. After what seemed an age, it reached us. Scrambling nets were lowered and we were hauled up and treated to steaming mugs of cocoa.

The next morning, we disembarked at Charleston and assembled on the quay for a photograph. Someone made a speech thanking the American Navy for saving our lives.

By Charles Owen, who receives £50. Readers are invited to send in their own 400-word submissions about the past

More Memory Lanes on the Oldie App See page 6