On September 1, 1945, John Steele, of Goshen, Indiana, left his feed, coal, and building supply business in the hands of his employees to oversee a crew of seagoing cowboys on the first UNRRA shipment to Poland after World War II. What had been billed to him as a six-week trip kept him away from home for three months. Even so, he considers the trip the highlight of his life.
Steele arrived at the docks in Jersey City only to find his ship, the S. S. Virginian, in dry dock for repairs. On September 10, his 30 cow hands joined him aboard the massive merchant vessel built in 1903, which had seen service in two world wars and still bore some of its guns. The gun decks offered a prime view of New York City across the Hudson River. “The sight is marvelous,” writes cowboy Ken Kortemeier in his diary. The Empire State Building stood conspicuous on the skyline “with a small section near the top darkened as a result of the tragic B-25 crash.”
Kortemeier notes that the Queen Mary pulled in that morning with 14,000 troops aboard. “It fills one with emotion to see them line the deck, peering out of portholes eager to see and set foot on the land they love.”
On the night of September 13, two tug boats nudged the ship on its way. Kortemeier says, “It was a great sensation going down the harbor seeing the majestic New York City skyline light up as usual and fading slowly in the background. The Statue of Liberty was an inspirational sight as she stood there. Flood lights were on her and her torch was really burning. One of the last landmarks of New York that could be seen was Coney Island all lit up with the old Ferris wheel of the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair well in the foreground. One could see automobiles as they sped along the boulevards bordering the River. Lights faded out and we ventured forth on the dark Atlantic with lighthouses winking at us as if it were now our turn.”
After their first day of work, the cowboys bonded at the stern of the ship with the first of many song fests, singing gospel and secular numbers after a short business meeting. “It was great,” says Kortemeier, “and the moon helped us by giving a silvery effect to the sea. Oh yes, sea, moon, and stars were there, but that is not all. God was there. Let the tempests rage, and the sea roar — remember still that the small voice speaketh and the men aboard this ship tonight are in His care.”
Despite smooth sailing the first five days, many of the cowboys got seasick. One cowboy upchucked 12 times the first day out. He remembers hanging over the toilet and pushing the flush button with his head. “We managed to get our work done even if we were sick,” says his partner. “We had canned corn quite often, and we’d say we kind of liked it because it tasted the same coming up as it did going down.”
The fifth day out, “the sea was extra rough,” notes Kortemeier, “and preparations were made for stormy weather. Several tons of straw piled high on the hatch were thrown overboard in the hope of making the ship less top-heavy.” But the real tests came as the Virginian neared the Orkney Islands off northern Scotland. After missing a collision with a small Danish ship by only about ten feet in a dense fog, the Virginian entered the dangerous waters of the North Sea. “Life boats were hung over side today so they can be released by merely slashing the rope,” Kortemeier notes. “Also, a watch (constant) is being maintained for mines. Thank God that we now have peace and we do not need to worry about subs. The fact of having a safe night is now brought up every morning in devotions.”
Even though mapped, mines at times broke off from their moorings. The Virginian missed one by about 40 yards off the coast of Norway on September 28. The next morning, Kortemeier notes, “we got a radio report from a ship sinking because it hit a mine in the area where we were yesterday.” Another close call.
The Virginian finally reached the harbor at Danzig on October 1. Kortemeier says, “I was moved to tears for the first time on this voyage as we came up the canal at Danzig. Oh, what ruin and devastation. The people were waiting for us, and the big sign says — heartily welcome in Gdansk. What a scene! Nearly every building gutted. We expect to go ashore tomorrow.”
Hi Peggy. I am Jeff Petry, brother to Lyndel Trissell, of Piqua, OH, & son of Everett Petry, whose name you no doubt recognize as being a member of the initial Seagoing Cowboys crew. I learned from my niece, Melissa Baker, yesterday, that she had informed you of Lyndel’s unfortunate passing several weeks ago.
Of course she also informed me of the wonderful diligent work you’re doing with researching & publishing information on the Heifer Project & it’s origin. I remember my dad relating many heart-wrenching but also inspiring stories regarding his “adventures” on this trip, as I was growing up. I look forward to reading all of your articles, supplementing dad’s journals.
Please let me know if I can be of any assistance. However I imagine Lyndel had already supplied you with what she had in the way of our dad’s accounts of the journey.
Sending my blessings upon your endeavor.
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It’s great to hear from you, Jeff! I’ve been in communication with Melissa about Everett’s materials. Lyndel supplied with me selected pages of his journal, so I have part of his story but not the whole of it. I’ll be in touch after I hear back from Melissa. Thanks for your kind words and support for my work. ~Peggy
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Oh no! You leave us in suspense! What happened after they arrived? What animals were they carrying? Why did the 6 week trip take 3 months? I hope there will be a part 2 next week! (PS My seagoing cowboy dad told me about when their ship got closer to Japan, they had scouts watching out for the mines there, too. In fact, in the sea areas where there were still WWII mines, the sailors (not cowboys) got extra hazardous duty pay.)
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Hi, Kirsten! Ooh, I’ll consider your questions as I write my next couple of posts. There will be at least two more parts to this story. And it was the same for the European cowboys: they didn’t get the hazardous duty pay the regular seamen got, either. They weren’t legally part of the ship’s crew. They were UNRRA employees.
Always great to hear from you!
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