Editor,
Tuesday was Independence Day. What does that mean to you? To me, it is a day to give thanks to our forefathers for the freedom we have today.
Sixty-five years ago, being very patriotic, I tried to enlist in the Navy but due to a physical defect, I was turned down. I was devastated!
Fortunately, the U.S. Merchant Marine gave me an opportunity. All I had to do was stand up and cough, and I was in.
The Merchant Marines was a different breed of guys. All were volunteers, most not eligible for the service due to their age or physical and mental defects. They were tough and dedicated and I was proud to be one of them.
I had grown up in the Depression without a mother and I thought I was poor. I soon realized how lucky I was to be born white and in the USA.
On my first ship, we sailed out of New York City into the North Atlantic. It was winter, and the sea was cold and angry. The white caps would lift the ship out of the water, and the ice cold spray would smash over the top of the bridge. Then the ship would roll from one side to the other swamping the deck and eventually leaving a coating of ice four inches thick on everything.
Some Liberty Ships were even broken in half due to the fury of the storms.
I learned the fear of the German submarine torpedoes, dive-bombers and depth charges. We arrived in London, England and witnessed the death and destruction caused by German air raids. It could have been in the USA.
We sailed to Africa and saw widespread famine and disease. We were almost a month going to Iran and Iraq for oil. At this time these countries had the richest oil reserves in the world, but the people had nothing.
None had the facilities we on our ship had: no electricity, running water, sanitation and very few had a shack to live in. The sewage system was a long canal of contaminated water that ran parallel to a dirt road. It was filled with everything from dead animals to human feces.
In the river coated with oil, men and women relieved themselves while 50 feet downstream, others bathed and drank the filthy water.
In Bombay, India, I was shocked at the hundreds of families sleeping on the cobblestone streets at night, so close together you had to step on people to cross the street at night. Hungry people and begging children were everywhere.
After a couple of months at sea, we arrived in Australia where one of my friends, a black man, was not permitted to go ashore because he might contaminate the Aborigine population, the native black in that country.
But, finally, after 15 months of sailing completely around the world, we could see the lighthouse near the entrance of San Pedro, California. I could see Old Glory waving in the breeze. What did it mean to me? I was home! There were family, friends, freedom, plenty of hot and cold running water, electricity, a bed to sleep in and the knowledge that if I obeyed the law, I could do anything or say anything I wanted to.
Arthur Stevenson
Windham
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