I landed in Scotland with the sun shining beautifully on the Firth of Clyde. The coast of Scotland looked beautiful and different to me but I was still some distance from shore. We pulled in early in the morning under cover of fog and the first time I knew we had arrived was the squeaking of the seagulls as they dived toward the water for food.
About an hour after landing the sun came up over a small mountain and with it came a blue sky and a peaceful day. Everyone that had a boat came out to see us, some boats moving along fast, spraying sparkling white foam across their bows, others just creeping along hardly creating a ripple on the smooth sun-soaked waters. Everything seemed to move so slow and peaceful compared to our tense, nervous dash across the Atlantic. Maybe I was just glad to see land again.
Most of our time was spent on deck that day, doing nothing but looking at this strange new world and trying to make out the signs we could see across the water. We knew they at least had a few cars, for we could see them moving along the waterfront road. We were thinking all kinds of things --- about what we'd find in this country that seemed to jump up at us from out of the night.
We met some of the people though and we were tossing cigarettes to the fishermen. The rest of the days was spent in feeding the millions of seagulls that swarmed about our boat like it was a nest. Seagulls are just about the prettiest birds you'll find. They're about as big as a buzzard with a more graceful body. They're practically all white and sparkling in the sun. They even ate our K-Rations. We had a lot of fun watching them dive for the junk we threw in and then fight over it after they got it. Of course some of the guys couldn't stand that mild form of recreation so they went below and came up in about five minutes with rifles and some clips of ammo. So it wasn't such a dull town after all.
About ten o'clock that night we unloaded onto a smaller boat and headed for shore. When we got ashore we saw the buildings we had seen earlier in the day and which the morning sun had lit up so magnificently. Now in the evening sun they didn't look so pretty. They were nothing but old brownstones that had all the dirt and soot of centuries. The town was clean as far as sweeping goes but it looked as though it needed a scrubbing. A few red or green houses would have helped but they were all a dull brown. I'm only judging this on the run because we haven't stopped moving since we left the boat and my pack is getting pretty damn heavy. We had a fifteen minute break at the railroad station while the lieutenant, who was just as confused as we were, checked up to see if everything was as it should be.
We grabbed our packs again and went into the railroad station. Except for the few advertisements along the walls I almost thought I was in an old abandoned tunnel. Practically no light and a nice musty smell. I thought maybe we were going to ride the ghost train.
When we finally got into the light again we were actually in a railroad station and our train was waiting and boy was I tired. We dashed for our respective coaches looking for a place to flop down. The coach was divided into compartments that were big enough for two people, so they crowded five of us into a compartment. None of us could hope to get in with all the junk we had on our backs, so we took our packs off in the aisle and passed them one by one to one of our buddies who was trying his damnedest to make three heavy packs stay on those small luggage holders, which looked as they were going to come down any minute.
We tried hanging the rest of them on the few coat hangers we found, but that didn't work at all. That's one train that's going to need new coat hangers after the war. The rest of the packs went under the seats and we sat down.
Just when we knew about where each others' arms and legs were, in comes the Red Cross with coffee and donuts, and I mean hot coffee. We'd all be scalded if we tried to drink that hot coffee in the positions we were in, so we unscrambled ourselves and went out into the aisles, ate our donuts, drank our coffee, and smoked a few cigarettes. We couldn't see any sense in going back to that mess we just came off of, even though we were plenty tired. so we opened a window and started shootin' the breeze with the civilians.
That didn't last long though. The conductor came through hollering about closing the curtains on the windows, that we were pulling out and that blackout regulations were strictly enforced. So there was nothing to do but go back to our foxhole on wheels and try to get some sleep. All of us were snoring peacefully when along about 2 o'clock we all woke up with a start. We thought we were bombed but it was just one of the guys who forgot where his leg was and shoved it through the window.
So we left Scotland and so we saw Scotland. Riding in a blacked out train.
Art Pranger
(date unknown)
