A story told…

I had never really thought much about my life story, much less told it. Why would I need to? I lived through all of it and I can remember most of the details. Well, there are more than a few nights where the details are a little fuzzy. That is almost certainly a good thing, since those nights were almost certainly spent in dockside taverns and establishments of even poorer repute. Such was the life I led, as a sailor on shore leave in a foreign port.

I suppose most of my story has been told, since I have kept a journal since I was old enough to write, but most of that is lost now, lost in the storm that cast me on this shore. I have a few pieces, that were about my person, or in the small valise that survived with me, but that is all. Of course, I have told some, in conversation with friends and colleagues over the years. Between them, perhaps the truth can be found…

Now, the Master of the SS Odiham Castle, Gerald Bryson, he knew some of the story…

The special brandy worked, and the Major consented to the marriage…

 

One great advantage of working for a shipping company is that it is easy to get a berth to almost anywhere…

They say that you never know where life’s path will take you. I don’t necessarily agree…

“Understandable, given the circumstances,” said Brigitte. “We call it the frenzy, but I imagine you found that out later.” I nodded.

……..

The Leaving of London

 

 

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