Our voyage to Iceland on the troop ship M. B. Stewart lasted seven days, from Sept. 23 — 29 Sept. 29, 1952. However, by the 26th or 27th – I don’t remember which – it got so rough that the rail was clear of seasick troops. Also, most of the sickest troops had quit crawling through our compartment and leaving a putrid trail. Why? Beats me!
However, that was when Eddie Mochynski, my best buddy, lost it on the way up to the deck. The stairs of the companionway we climbed to get to the deck were made of slotted metal, you see. And poor Eddie! Someone let loose above him, and down through the slotted stairs it rained on him.