I wanted to tell this story because people forget what war is, how terrible it is. They forget how many people are killed, how many families are wrecked. In particular, they forget that a great many who actually survive the terrors of war remain, in some way, prisoners of cruel memories for the rest of their days. I am one of those survivors who, to use a naval analogy, remains permanently anchored in a sea of memories. The passing of the years is supposed to blunt the memory and yet, where these events are concerned at least, I find the opposite to be the case. They have become sharper and consequently more painful.
I am over 80 years old now, and much of what I relate here happened when I was in my late teens and early 20s. More than 60 busy years have gone by, yet there is never a day when I don’t think of these events. And rarely a night when I am not more than a little unsettled by them. I can’t forget what happened. These days I tend to forget some of the things I want to remember, yet remember a great many I’d rather forget. It’s difficult and I believe I’ll always struggle with it. Fortunately my strong faith has sustained me.
The events and conversations I’ve recorded here are based on my personal recollections. Many other Laconia survivors remember the same chaotic experience in ways that are unique to them. Like me, however, they remain haunted by memories.
Jim McLoughlin,
Adelaide, South Australia