Mostly they are terribly nice though. The Red Cross ladies not only organise everything but give us writing paper, pencils, soap and all the other necessities when we need them. Cosmetics, leg paint, cigarettes and chocolate are sold in the commissary.

It was so hard not being able to say a real goodbye to you and Dad and Fred. I was looking forward so much to a last Christmas together. I worry that I’ll never see you again. I tell myself to be glad that I’m on the ship, but I feel as though part of me is at the farm with you all, and part of me is over with Roy, and as the ship moves I’m stretched thinner and thinner between.

Have you had any news of Jack?

Your loving daughter,

Sarah

•

We soon grew accustomed to shipboard life. The loudspeakers in the cabins and passageways were the source of all information, and Clarence was there if we needed help finding something. He brought us fresh fruit if we desired it and ginger ale for Barbara’s nausea. We were woken by the loudspeaker at six-thirty, and the five of us took turns with the shower and toilet. At seven-thirty we went to breakfast; lunch was at eleven-thirty and dinner at five. After dinner we were allowed to mill about, but passageways were cleared at ten-thirty, when everyone had to be in their cabins with the lights out. I spent the first few days figuring out where things were, there were so many spaces to be explored. A few times a sailor would stop me to say, ‘Passengers aren’t meant to be down here, ma’am,’ but most of the ship was open. Except for the sailors’ quarters, of course. We weren’t meant to fraternise with the sailors; in fact, they could get in a lot of trouble for even being seen with us.

The ship’s previous life as a cruise liner was barely evident anymore—when it became a troop carrier all of the luxury items were stripped out—but luckily they’d kept the library intact, and I spent many hours there. There was also a chapel, a radio room, and what felt like acres of deck.

There was an infirmary ward staffed by nurses (we often took Barbara there, as she was still feeling unwell) and several large rooms that had been converted into nurseries. I liked to visit the babies; most of them seemed to be handling the voyage well. In their nursery, rows of high chairs stood beside racks of baby bottles and thousands of jars of strained fruit. I would imagine myself a mother, if it were still possible, my own neat nursery and the baby food I would keep in my pantry: strained peaches, pureed sweet potato, rice pudding, pureed pear. The bigger children had dolls and dollhouses, toy trucks and many sturdy little wooden ships.