Remembering an earlier cruise

We recently took part in a cruise out of San Diego, down the West Coast of Mexico, aboard the Holland American Ship, Oosterdam.

Cruises are an increasingly popular way of vacationing, and for good reasons. Costs are fixed (no big city surprises). One can relax on the high seas, and visit a number of interesting foreign ports. Cruise ships have good, Las Vegas type entertainment- -- casinos and musical revues. Cruise lines pamper their customers unmercifully -- an endless supply of clean towels, a mint on your pillow each night, and probably most popular of all, cruises offer superb food, wonderfully prepared and tastefully presented. (a word of advice: Do Not take a cruise when you are at your maximum weight! You've bound to come home still fatter!)

The cruise, wonderful as it was, nevertheless reminded me of my first cruise. As a young man I was introduced to cruising when I accepted an all expense paid 15-day (one way) cruise, courtesy of Uncle Sam to that premier resort destination -- Korea, during the Korean War. That experience soured me on any additional cruises for some 40 years.

A cruise aboard an Army Troop Ship is different from cruising aboard the modern cruise ship. Aboard the USNS Gen. W.F.Hase we were carrying some 3,085 Army and Marine personnel on a ship half the size of the Holland American Ship, Oosterdam, which carries 1,800 passengers.

The Oosterdam has a crew of 800, almost one crewman for every two passengers. The Hase had 12 crewmen running the ship, plus cooks and bakers. There was no one making our beds and tidying up our "stateroom," or supplying us with clean towels -- and as I recall, there were no mints on our pillows at night.

Instead of plush staterooms, for two people, each with private bathroom, most decks on the troop ship consisted of one giant dormitory, with bunks, three high, extending nearly the length of the ship. I had been warned before we left that those holds got pretty stuffy (even rank), and was advised that I should follow the air duct running the length of the room, and take a top bunk directly beneath one of the air vents. I did this, but soon after we were underway I noticed that there was no air coming out my vent. On investigation I discovered that the Marines along the way had used their bayonets to create their own air ducts, and by the time it got to me there was not enough air pressure to cause a stir of fresh air. As much as possible on that trip I stayed on deck where the air was clear.

The plumbing on the Gen. Hase was pretty basic. Each deck had two huge latrines. On one side of the latrine there were a half dozen "salt water" showers and a line of commodes -- no privacy. On the opposite side was a trough, probably 20 feet long, which served as a urinal. When we were barely clear of the Golden Gate Bridge, I happened to be in one of those huge "bathrooms."

There was only one other soldier there. The poor fellow was on his knees, head hanging over the urinal, alternately heaving and moaning, as the water sloshed from one end of the trough to the other, dangerously close to his face. Of course, I offered assistance, and tried to get him on his feet, to take him to his bunk. "Go away!" he mumbled. "I know I'm dying. Just leave me to die in peace!" He was the first, but before we got to Korea there were many many others who suffered from that awful malady known as "seasickness".

The entertainment aboard the troop ship was not exactly like the Oosterdam either. Halfway through our voyage the call was put out for people who had a talent and would like to entertain.

After a few rehearsals we actually had a show. We were up on the main deck and the performers played to an appreciative audience of 3,000. There were spectators perched in the rigging, atop lifeboats. An eager audience covered every square inch of deck. A makeshift stage was erected over one of the gun placements.

The entertainment was surprisingly good. One fellow, with whom I became quite well acquainted, was on his way to join a USO group in Seoul. He was great -- sang beautifully -- a bit like Bing Crosby. We kept in touch after we got to Korea and he later brought his group to entertain our Quartermaster group in Yong Dung Po (quite a rarity, as USO groups rarely bothered to entertain Quartermaster groups).

Once, after we got home I saw him in a TV special. Another fellow had the crowd in hysterics, doing imitations of people and machines with his mouth. Years after, I recognized him when he showed up in one of the "Police Academy" pictures. Most of the rest of the fellows were only marginally talented, but each gave it their all, and we were not too critical.

There was another bit of Las Vegas-type entertainment. We had barely cleared the Golden Gate Bridge when a group of GIs started a "crap game" at one end of our "dormitory." The players changed as people went broke, but that "crap game" went on non-stop, night and day, for that whole two weeks we were at sea. Amazing!

Modern cruise ships have stabilizers, which make their voyages extremely smooth. Unless the sea is very choppy and the ship is trying to make up time, one rarely feels more than a gentle sway as he walks the decks.

That is not the way it is on a troop ship. The Gen. Hase certainly did not have stabilizers. Those ships were made strictly to haul lots of troops -- the comfort of those troops was of secondary consideration.

Consequently, during that 15 days at sea we did a great deal of bobbing around -- up and down, front to back and side to side. For two weeks I had a queasy feeling in my stomach. Our food was not gourmet. It would never take any prizes in cruise ship cuisine, but it was certainly adequate. Nevertheless, I, for one, ate very little and probably lost weight -- not like the luxury cruise ship, where no one loses weight.

For those 15 days we were at sea the scenery was pretty monotonous. One day a message came over the loud speaker that we were abreast of the Hawaiian Islands, but we had to take their word for it as we could not really see land. Once we sighted a whale and another ship in the distance on the same day. Other than for those exciting events, every day was like every other, and all we saw was ocean, and more ocean.

As with everything in the Army, there was a great deal of griping about our cruise aboard the General Hase. But it was actually a very pleasant voyage. As a fellow who had grown up in Nebraska, I found it quite exciting to be on a ship sailing the Pacific Ocean.

Inspections aboard were minimal, and there was ample time to read and swap stories with any number of interesting fellows -- great guys, from all parts of the United States.

We were literally "All in the same Boat." We were all apprehensive about what awaited us in Korea, I'm sure, but at the same time, being young and feeling invulnerable, we were also excited to be embarking on an adventure of such magnitude, and chose not to think about what might happen in Korea.

For some of those interesting fellows -- great guys and heroes -- that first cruise was their last. I've been ever grateful that I was able to return safely and that my wife and I have had the good fortune to be allowed to be pampered aboard the Holland American Line Oosterdam.