Escape from Archangel: An American Merchant Seaman at War

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Home It was September 1, 1944. The tanker was the White Horse, identical in every way to the Cedar Creek Her captain was a Norwegian named Trygve Wold. Althougha passenger,Jac felt at home. Membersof the crew, true to the custom of respecting the personal life of fellow crewmen, did not pry into the circumstances that had led Jac aboard their ship in the middle of the night with nothing but the clothes on his back. They accepted him as a fellow seaman,and from amongthem he gratefully accepted a clean change of clothing, almost his size. He had the good feeling that he belonged there. The convoy swiftly formed and headed west. Jac learned why so many ships had been at Milford Haven. They were supplying support to the Allied army now fighting in western Europe. The greatest amphibious assault the world had ever seen, D-Day, had taken place almost three months before on the sixth of June. The summer of 1944 was gone. Jac was amazed by the passage of time, by all that had happened in -159- the world since last April. But he was most exhilarated to be aboard a ship again,a ship headed home. Both the Germans and the North Atlanticwere reasonable to the convoy as it steamed westward. However, there was one more trial in store for Jac and the White Horse before they reached the United States. A few hundred miles from New York the radio operator handed a weather report to Captain Wold: "12 Sept.44. 0700 hrs. Hurricanedue east of Miami. Winds, 140 miles per hour. Storm movingnorth northeast." That storm was eventually christened by the U.S. Weather Bureau the Great Atlantic Hurricane. A new storm-tracking system had been introduced. The storm's position was being reported by naval reconnaissance planes. At the time, few planes had ever been deliberately flown into ahurricane. One pilot reported the weather so violent that "it took all the strength ofmyself and the co-pilot to control the plane." Back at its base, it was found that over two hundred rivets had been sheared off each wing. TWo dayslater the White Horse received a second message: "Sept. 14, 1944, 7:00 AM.Hurricane centered east of Cape Hatteras. Winds 145 miles per hour, gusts stronger. Moving north northeast. Expected to go ashore vicinity NewYork." The hurricane had boiled up out of the Caribbean and Gulf of Mexico and was headed straight for New York. The White Horse was in between. Her captain considered it only a minor inconvenience. Captain Wold was very short, especially for a Norwegian. He had a box made from mahoganyupon which he stood for better visibility from the wheelhouse. On this dark night he was having a bit of trouble keeping his box from moving about. Toher crew, the White Horse looked more like asub- -160- marine running on the surface than a tanker. They were in the middle of the hurricane, 140-mile-an-hour winds, fiftymaybe sixty-foot seas. The bow lookouts had long since been called in; no one could survive on the forward deck, and if something got in front of the ship, damn little could be done about it anyway. The captain, first officer, helmsman, a steward trying to hold on to a pot of coffee, andJac were all in the wheelhouse clinging to the storm rails or anything else they could hold on to. The steward, gray as a ghost, asked, "Captain, are you scared?" Captain Wold stood a little taller on his box, and without taking his eyes off the bow, which at the time had disappeared beneath a huge sea, replied, "Nothing to be scared about. WhiteHorse is good ship. Maybebang up deck gear a little. Shewill ride it out like the horse she is." He turned toward the men and allowed himself a slight smile. Captain Wold first went to sea on a sailing vessel at the age of sixteen. In the sixty-eighth year of his life, he was riding out the fifteenth hurricane he had encountered at sea. When the storm had passed, it was discovered that, asCaptain Wold had predicted, White Horse had one smashed lifeboat , one missing, completely torn away from its davits, and various other damaged and missing pieces of deck gear. Her position was 129 miles farther away from New York than she had been when the storm overtook her...