Thursday, September 12, 1940
“Hello, boys and girls. My name is Geoffrey Shakespeare, and on behalf of the British government, I would like to welcome all ‘seavacuees’ to the SS City of Benares.”
Ken recognized Mr. Shakespeare’s name not just because it was the same as the famous playwright’s, but also because he had seen his signature on the bottom of the letter from the CORB office that his stepmother had shown him. He was the man who had organized the trip to Canada.
All of the children and escorts were assembled in a huge playroom on the sports deck, one level above the main deck. The playroom was filled with toys and books, and there was the most magnificent rocking horse that Ken had ever seen. It had large baskets on either side, big enough for children to ride in. Gussie was trying to break up a fight between her brothers over who was going to rock and who was going to ride. She was having a hard time keeping them quiet while Mr. Shakespeare talked.
“In this time of war, we want all our children to be safe, and that’s why we’ve arranged to take you across the ocean to people who can look after you until the war is over. We are confident in the convoy, and in the brave men and women who will take you to Canada.”
Mr. Shakespeare stood up.
“On behalf of the prime minister of England, I wish you all a bon voyage and look forward to welcoming you back to British soil after this terrible danger has passed. We know that you will be good ambassadors for Britain. You will show the world the British spirit and courage that will win this war!”
Everyone cheered. Terry stretched out his arm to shake hands with Mr. Shakespeare. “On behalf of all of us,” Terry said formally, “thank you very much, sir.”
“Well put, Terry,” said Reverend King.
“And now I turn you over to the ship’s chief officer, Officer Hetherington,” said Mr. Shakespeare. “Bon voyage!”
“Hello, boys and girls,” Officer Hetherington was tall with a serious, grim face and a thick Scottish accent. “I am in charge of the safety of this ship. It is very important that you listen carefully and obey orders at all times. Is that understood?”
Ken nodded seriously. He knew that the chief officer was just a step down from the captain. He straightened his shoulders.
“There will be lifeboat drills every day while you are on the boat,” said Officer Hetherington. He gestured to two cadets. “Cadet Officers Haffner and Critchley are here to give you instructions. It is their job to teach you the rules of the ship and to take you through your lifeboat drills. I leave you in their capable hands.”
A cadet officer. That’s what I want to be three years from now, thought Ken.
The cadet officers held up heavy-looking blue vests and awkward white, lumpy jackets made of blocks of cork.
“We’re going to give each of you a kapok vest and cork life jacket. Your kapok vest must be worn at all times, even when you go to bed,” said Cadet Critchley.
Terry elbowed Ken. “How’re we gonna sleep in these?” he mouthed silently, as he took the vest.
“These are your life jackets.” Cadet Haffner was holding up one of the bulky white jackets. “You don’t need to wear them, but you must carry them with you at all times. The good news is that you don’t need to carry your gas masks with you. You can leave those in your cabin.”
Everyone cheered at the idea of leaving the smelly gas masks behind. Even though Ken was used to carting his everywhere, it was a relief to know that he didn’t have to think about gas attacks at sea.
“In the case of an emergency,” continued Cadet Haffner, “you must put your life jackets on immediately. Let’s practice by putting them on now.”
The cork life jackets were awkward. Ken put his around his neck. Two pieces of cork hung down in front and a large piece was on his back. He pulled the strap tight around his body as Cadet Haffner showed them and felt the hard cork digging into the sides of his chin.
“This feels awful,” said one of the girls beside him. “It’s bad enough being plump—now I feel like a barrage balloon!”
“Now,” Cadet Haffner said, “if you ever need to jump into the water with your life jacket on, there is a very special way to do it.”
“Not that any of us expect you to have to jump in the water,” said Cadet Critchley quickly, “but we have a rule here on the ship that everyone has to know how to do it. Even Captain Nicolls had to show us that he could do it before we’d let him run the ship.”
Ken knew that wasn’t true. Nobody told a captain what to do. But he thought that Cadet Critchley was probably exaggerating for the sake of the younger boys, like Alan and Johnny. He knew they listened better when someone mentioned the captain.
“If you are told to jump off the boat, you must—I repeat must—tuck your knees up like this.” Cadet Haffner squatted down and grabbed his bent knees, holding them tightly to his chest.
“All right, let’s try it. I am going to say ‘JUMP!’ and when I do, I want to see you all crouch down and grab your knees like I did. All right now? One, two, three, JUMP!”
Ken hugged his knees and watched as all of the others did the same. He saw Derek press his brother Alan down, who immediately started rolling around on the deck like a bowling ball.
“Perfect! All right. Now, if you hear the alarm whistle sound seven times, you must put on your life jacket and walk to your muster station.”
“Our what?” asked Alan.
“Your muster station,” said Cadet Critchley, “This playroom where we are standing right now is your muster station. If you hear the alarm whistle seven times, just come to the rocking horse.
“Now, let’s do a little practice. How many times does a whistle sound for an alarm?”
“Seven!”
“Right. So when you hear seven whistles, what do you go?”
“Go to the mustard station! To the rocking horse!”
“The muster station, yes. You walk to the muster station. Do not run. Walk. Then your escort will take you to your lifeboat. So now we are in our muster station, with our life jackets on, and it is time to follow your escort to your lifeboat on the embarkation deck.”
“This way, boys,” said Reverend King. “We’re bound for lifeboat 9.” Ken followed his escort up the stairs to the embarkation deck. Their lifeboat was tucked into the open deck high above them.
“How’re we supposed to get in that,” demanded Johnny, “when it’s all the way up there? I can’t climb that high.”
Reverend King laughed good-heartedly. “Neither can I! Thankfully, we don’t have to go up there to the boat; the boat will come down here to us.” He bent down to look Johnny right in the face. “Do you understand, Johnny? If you hear the alarm whistle, you and Bobby must go the rocking horse. Then I’ll bring you here, to this boat.”
He straightened up. “Now let’s go over to lifeboat 12. The lascars have lowered that one so that we can see how to get in.”
“But I thought this was our lifeboat,” said Terry.
“This is our lifeboat,” explained the reverend patiently. “They are just going to show us how it works with lifeboat 12.”
Ken saw all of the other groups heading toward lifeboat 12. “It’s just like fire drills at school,” he said to Terry as they walked to the port side of the ship. “You have to know how to do them, but you never really need to use ’em.”
One of the girls from Miss Hillman’s group turned on Ken and Terry. “I was in the Volendam when it was torpedoed, and we were sure glad we’d had the drills!”
“You were on the Volendam?” said Ken. He’d read all about the ship being hit. He couldn’t believe he was actually meeting someone who’d been on it.
“It was exciting, really,” she told Ken. “It all happened just like in the drill. Everyone was rescued and we barely even got wet.”
Cadet Haffner and the other groups were waiting for them at lifeboat 12. The lifeboat had been pushed forward and was hanging in the air, connected to the ship by heavy ropes. Two lascars were holding handles on a couple of large drums. Ken craned his neck to see. The ropes came out of the drums, went up through large blocks, then through metal levers and down into each end of the lifeboat. “Those are the davids,” one of the boys said, proudly pointing at the metal levers.
“Davits,” corrected Cadet Haffner, gently. “The ropes you see are called the falls and those drums have reels inside with enough rope on them to lower the boat all the way down to the water.”
“Man the falls and reels,” commanded Cadet Critchley.
The lascars slowly turned the handles. The ropes got longer, and the lifeboat moved down, stopping in the air beside them.
“You see?” said Cadet Haffner. “The boat comes right down to where you are standing. When you come to your lifeboat, it will already be down, ready for you to step off the deck and get in.” He leaned down to one of the little girls. “Now, what is your name?”
“Connie,” she said, “Connie Grimmond, mister cadet, sir.”
“Connie, would you like to sit in the boat?”
Connie looked scared. “Is it safe? They’re not gonna let go, are they?” she eyed the lascars suspiciously. They stood rigidly holding the ropes.
“It’s perfectly safe,” said Cadet Haffner. “They are trained to hold the boat there until the captain says to lower it. Here, let me go in and show you.”
Cadet Haffner nodded to a lascar who took off a section of the guardrail that ran around the edge of the deck. The cadet stepped lightly into the hanging boat and held his hand out to Connie.
“This way, Connie.” Ken watched her eye the space between the ship and the lifeboat. Cadet Haffner took hold of her hand. “Just look at the lifeboat, not the space,” he said quietly. Connie stepped carefully over the wooden edge. The lifeboat stirred gently.
“That’s it. Now sit down on the thwart there,” he said guiding her to one of the wooden seats that ran across the boat. “Good girl. That’s all there is to it.”
Connie beamed up at her brothers and sisters on the deck.
“When everyone is on board the life boat, your officer will say, ‘Stand by for lowering’. He’ll hold on to this rope, the painter, which will keep the lifeboat attached to the ship until you’re ready to cast off,” continued Cadet Haffner.
“What are those?” Ken blurted out. He’d been trying to keep quiet during the demonstration, but he had to speak up now. He was the oldest in his group and he didn’t want the others to know how excited he was. He pointed to the struts in the centre of the boat. They looked like some kind of complicated gear system.
“Glad you asked that, sailor,” said Cadet Critchley. “Those are called the Fleming gears. When you push and pull those levers they turn a propeller shaft below the boat. The propeller then makes the boat move forward. If you are in the lifeboat it will be your job, along with everyone else’s, to work the gears and move the lifeboat along. Do you want to try them out?”
Ken’s heart leapt. He nodded seriously and stepped carefully into the lifeboat.
“Just grab them on either side, that’s right,” said Cadet Critchley. “Push forward and then pull backward. Exactly. You’re a natural sailor!”
Ken could see himself racing through the water. When I’m a cadet, he thought, I’ll be the one showing everyone how to do this.
“Hey, Ken!” shouted Terry, “I can see the propeller movin’! You’re makin’ it go!”
Ken beamed. “All right, let’s review,” said Cadet Critchley. He helped Ken and Connie step out of the lifeboat. The lascars began pulling the ropes to bring it back up to its locked position. Cadet Haffner nodded to the lascar to put the guardrail back.
“When you hear the alarm bell ring seven times, what do you do?” asked Cadet Critchley.
Everyone started yelling at once.
“Put on our life jackets!”
“Walk, don’t run, to our muster station!”
“Go to the lifeboat with our escort.”
“Get in—when the officer tells us to.”
Cadet Critchley raised his hand for everyone to be silent. He knelt down in front of little Joyce. “Now can you tell me, what do you do when you hear that bell?”
Ken watched as Joyce looked into the cadet’s eyes. In a quiet and serious voice she said, “I put on my life jacket. I walk, don’t run, to the muster station. I go to the lifeboat with Miss Cornish. And I get in when the officer tells me to.”
Ken was on the promenade deck, sketching a picture of the Duchess of Atholl, the ship berthed beside the City of Benares, when the seven whistles sounded for the first alarm drill. He picked up his life jacket and walked calmly to the muster station. As he got there, he heard Bobby frantically explaining to Reverend King that Johnny was lost. Again.
“He always does this. He just goes off exploring. One minute he’s beside me and then the next minute he’s gone!”
Just then Johnny came running up. “I’m sorry, reverend. It’s just that those stairways all look the same. I came as quickly as I could.”
Reverend King tried to be patient. “But where is your life jacket, Johnny?”
“Oh, no! I must have left it somewhere. Maybe it’s in our cabin. Or maybe I left it in the dining room. I was having a great game of hide and seek with a couple of the boys there. I’ll go look!” Johnny started to race off, but the reverend grabbed him and held him back.
“No, you don’t. Now that you are here, I want you to stay put. This is just a drill. We’ll go through the rest of the drill and then we’ll go looking for your jacket.”
Ken knew that they had to take the drills seriously. But it was a lovely sunny day and they were sitting safely in the Liverpool harbour. It felt more like going for a picnic than a lifeboat drill. It was hard not to smile.
Three days ago I was still at home with Mollie, he thought. Three days ago I was still a boy, living at home. Now I am practically a sailor in training, heading to another country across the ocean.
My life is just beginning.