Dynamite Cargo

My name is Jackson Begg and tonight on the words at war program I will play the part of Fred Herman Abel Seaman who wrote a book called dynamite cargo Most of what you'll hear was written as notes aboard the British cruiser Silla in the Arctic Ocean You chaps below live prone for a bit he says

Sounding as if he was sorry to humiliate us We chaps below our lying prone and feeling no humiliation. Scotty, the old man, the Cape Bird Negroes, and the salesmen, the Russian women, and the rest.

All of us crouched down like Muslims at prayer. I bet there's a lot of praise being set too. People certainly pray when there is helpless as we are now. And let me tell you, when you're one of 300 shipwrecked sailors, huddled in the cruise mess room of a British cruiser, And that cruiser's being attacked by a wave after wave of Nazi torpedo bombers.

You feel mighty helpless. Especially when some cheerful young twerp up on the bridges treating you to a play-by-play description of the attack over the loudspeaker. I wonder what'll happen if we're hit. We ever get out of this place. The others are wondering too. They're all panicky.

The only one who doesn't seem scared is the Russian girl. They've passed. I think I ought to caution you. Here comes another chap heading in for us now. He's already determined. Standing out, all of you.

Hold hard. It was more of a sensation than it sounded. The deck under a seemed real and lift. The lights went out. Someone screamed a vile ugly curse. Little clothes for comfort, that one. But amazes as good as a mile, right, eh?