A YOUNG MOTHER'S TRIP FROM CANADA IN 1944
  
A mother's voyage with her baby to rejoin her RAF husband in England

I sailed with my 4-month-old daughter on the Rangitiki from New York on 28^th/ 29^th November 1944 to join my husband who was in the RAF.  We had left Swift Current in Saskatchewan, Canada on 24^th November to travel by train to Montreal where we were to join up with other families also sailing on that ship.

Our luggage was limited to a small steamer trunk and what we could carry.  The pram was crated.  My baby travelled in a large laundry basket lying on top of all that she would need for the voyage.  In the excitement of leaving, my own hand-luggage was left on the station platform but fortunately was sent on to me by the next train just 12 hours later.  My mother travelled with us to Montreal. 

We stayed one or two nights in a hotel in Montreal.  The RAF had allocated a trainee from New Zealand to help us with all the arrangements which included finding my hand-luggage and my pram which had gone to the wrong station.  This must have been a terrible experience for my mother.  Although it was very near the end of the war we would still need to travel in convoy and we knew very little about living conditions in England at that time.  We knew however that it would be much harder than the relative comfort we enjoyed in Canada. 

We hadn’t been allowed to tell even my husband or his family when we were travelling and had felt that we must obey this security requirement scrupulously.  We travelled to New York by train with other families but my memory of this is limited to the sensations of walking down a magnificent marble staircase and across a marble floor to claim my trunk and pram.  My next memory is of finding myself sharing a four-berth cabin with another young woman with a small baby.  Of how we coped with the washing (no disposable nappies then remember), the feeding, the bathing or the sleeping I have no memory at all. 

I think I may be able to account for the unusual length of this particular voyage.  We left New York in convoy but very soon, possibly two days later, we developed engine trouble and returned to New York for some time as we were supposed to wait for another convoy.  Although we had seen the other ships of the original convoy I do not remember this when we set off again.  We sailed very far south - the weather in December was warm enough for sunbathing.  Is it possible that we sailed without a convoy?  The ship was, of course, completely blacked out and we were warned of the danger of noise carrying over the water.  We made no ports of call.   

Most of the other wives and children slept in dormitories but those with babies slept in what I was told had been officers’ accommodation when the ship carried troops.  The food was adequate but very much on British war-time lines.  I especially remember having macaroni boiled in milk and slightly sweetened as a frequent dessert.  I was told that Britain had to pay for everything they took on in New York and for a country at war money was tight. 

We arrived in Liverpool probably on 23^rd December and disembarked early the next morning – Christmas Eve.  We stated our long train journey to London.  We had a sandwich and an apple for the day’s rations.  We made many halts along the way to allow more urgent trains to pass us.  We stopped only once, at Rugby, where we were given more sandwiches, tea and cake.  This was welcome as we didn’t arrive at Euston Station until early evening.  It was still blacked out except for the faintest glimmer of light.  I still did not know whether I would be met by anyone! 

To my great relief, my husband greeted me as I got off the train and took me to a taxi to meet his young brother.  We left the baby with her young uncle and went to find the luggage.  The journey to my husband’s family home in East Ham was highlighted by the romantic image of the moon shining through the spire of a bombed church.  My mother-in-law had a meal waiting for us and I remember how good the mashed potato tasted.  Then I went to bed exhausted and sick – too tired even to think what this new life would be like. 

There is only one person on the ship that I remember.  He was our cabin steward who was very kind and helpful.  I cannot remember his name but I knew he lived in East Ham and frequently visited Central Park which was just at the end of the road in which I was now living.  It’s all a long time ago and I haven’t thought much about it during the course of a long and happy life but it suddenly seemed important to make that journey real once more.

Marjorie Lucas

March 2008