Heifers and Havoc on the S. S. Humanitas, Part III

This series of posts brings to light the incongruity of Heifer Project animals being donated and shipped to Italy in the spirit of Christian goodwill to help destitute Italians recover from World War II on the one hand and cigarettes for the black market being smuggled into Italy on the same ship on the other. This post picks up the story on the fourth Heifer Project trip of the S. S. Humanitas that departed Baltimore on June 9, 1948.

Loading the S. S. Humanitas in Baltimore. June 1948. Photo courtesy of David Harner.

Like Charles Cutting and Byron Frantz on previous shipments, David Harner felt the ship reducing its speed as it approached the Naples harbor. “No one gave any explanation,” he says. “When I asked Señor Cortali [the radio man], he just shrugged and walked away–standard behavior when he didn’t want to answer a question. By nightfall, the ship was proceeding at a crawl, and finally, when it was completely dark, the ship came to a full stop. Crew members went around the ship making sure that no light escaped from the portholes or companionways. Still no explanation from the officers or crew. Suddenly, out of the dark roared several large, very fast speed boats.”

Harner’s crewmate Jim Moffet picks up the story. “A Jacob’s ladder was thrown over the side of our ship and a man came aboard. The crew of our ship began carrying boxes out of the hold and lowering them over the side into the boat. When it was loaded, another boat came out of the darkness and tied onto the side of us.”

Harner says, “After an hour or so, all of the speed boats had been loaded and they sped away into the darkness. Señor Cortali appeared. ‘You see? Cigarettes. You no tell anybody!’ We had witnessed a major cigarette smuggling operation. Cattle and cigarettes–strange cargo!”

After docking in Naples, Harner traveled up to Carrara, Italy, where the Brethren Service Committee had a project which was often visited by the cowboys on the Italian trips. Harner spent the rest of his summer there helping with the project’s children’s camps.

The cowboys on the next trip of the Humanitas once again experienced the smuggling operation. The outcome of their trip, however, was different from all the rest. Having heard the story from some of the cowboys who visited the project at Carrara, Harner writes it as his own:

“Soon after docking,” he says, “four or five men in suits, accompanied by several carabinieri with automatic weapons slung over their shoulders boarded the ship. They all looked grim. What they wanted was even grimmer. We were all under arrest: cowboys, crew, officers, and civilians…. We were escorted down through a gate and into the city. It wasn’t far before we came to a building with ‘Questura,’ carved into the stonework above the door. This was the Italian [police headquarters]. In a short time, the passengers were all released. In a few minutes more, thanks to the efforts of Señor Cortali, the cowboys were released. The officers and crew were all detained. As it turned out, all the officers and crew, except for Señor Cortali, were imprisoned for smuggling.”

A little embellishment here? Perhaps. But Jim Moffet’s brother Bob was on that shipment that had left Baltimore July 30, 1948. He wrote home on September 2, “The police really did give this ship a going over on the 22nd. They even went through some of our stuff. The captain, 1st mate, 3rd mate, chief engineer, and crew boss are all in jail. From what I hear I guess the police really did beat up the 1st mate. There is a fine of $35,000 that has to be paid by someone….”

A few days later, the Humanitas set sail once again for the US. The Heifer Project made one last shipment to Italy on October 12, 1948. The ship now had a different captain, and the cowboys on that crew reported no nefarious happenings.

The new captain of the the S. S. Humanitas, October 1948. Photo courtesy of Chester Bowman.

Heifers on their way to Italy, October 1948. Photo courtesy of Chester Bowman.

The S. S. Humanitas appears to finally have lived fully up to its name, a Latin word indicating kindness and benevolence.

Heifer Project shipments to Europe begin in earnest with a shipment to France in September 1945

The Heifer Project made two shipments of heifers to France in the wake of World War II. The first load of animals went to the region of Normandy in September 1945. The second, sent in April 1946, was destined for the Alsacian region of France.

Thirteen seagoing cowboys, one supervisor, and one veterinarian took care of the 150 Heifer Project animals and UNRRA’s 151 horses on the first trip. Cowboy Wayne Brant of York, Pennsylvania, donated one of those heifers. He had previously raised some calves for the Heifer Project’s second shipment to Puerto Rico.

Wayne Brant and two heifers he raised for the Heifer Project, 1944. Peggy Reiff Miller Collection.

When the call went out looking for men to give about six or seven weeks of their time to help care for shiploads of heifers to go to Europe, Brant jumped at the chance. “I announced to my family my intention of volunteering for one of the trips,” he says. “I think my wife, who was teaching school at the time, was a little shocked since we lived on a farm with milking cows and a teen-aged hired boy, who was to take care of the farm chores. She soon gave her consent.”

Wayne Brant’s Merchant Marine ID card, 1945. Peggy Reiff Miller Collection.

On board ship, one of Brant’s jobs was to accompany the veterinarian on his daily rounds of checking the animals. “Several of the horses became ill,” he says, “because of exhaustion from slipping on wet decks, which at first were hosed down daily. Plans were soon changed and the hosing was discontinued.”

The ship docked in Le Havre, France, for unloading of the animals, then continued up the Seine River to Rouen for the unloading of tractors and grain. Arrangements for distribution of the Heifer Project animals were made by Brethren Service worker Eldon Burke. Many of the cowboys got to visit Burke’s home in Paris.

The dock at Le Havre was still in disarray for the second heifer shipment in April 1946. Photo credit: Wilbur Stump.

“We were fortunate to be able to do some sightseeing,” Brant says. “I have vivid impressions of blocks of destroyed buildings in Le Havre. We were warned to stay within marked boundaries because of the many minefields. Not much damage was done to Paris because it was declared an ‘open city’.”

War destruction was evident in Le Havre, France, April 1946. Photo credit: Wilbur Stump.

Sightseeing in Paris on the second trip to France, April 1946. Photo credit: Wilbur Stump.

Unlike most cowboy crews, Brant’s crew was able to visit some places their heifers had been taken. “Five of the heifers went to a Children’s Home, which some of us had the privilege of visiting,” he says. “I remember the little shoes without soles when one of the house parents asked the children to lift one of their feet.”

Ohio cowboy Andrew Petry recognized his own cow among the five at the Canteleu children’s hospital. A Gospel Messenger report says, “On our visit to the dormitory, children were writing letters to their families. They were clean, but badly shod. The children live out in the open; classes are held outside. These 220 children (some of whom lost their parents during the bombings) all have a tendency toward tuberculosis.” The Heifer Project cows’ milk would go a long way toward treating that.

The Zona Gale returned to Le Havre after a week in Rouen. The supervisor’s report says, “The trip up and down the River was spoiled for the most of us because we were required to be down below deck cleaning up the cattle and horse stalls. It is to be regretted that there was not a better understanding between the ship’s officers and our own men as to where our duties ended and the regular ship’s crew’s began.”

What the cowboys unknowingly did, however, was get the ship ready for the loading of 90 soldiers in Le Havre to return them home from the war. Brant recalls, “They were not happy. The military flew them over but sent them back on slow Liberty ships.”

Brant notes, “The trip back seemed to take much longer because there was little to do. But we enjoyed getting to know one another better and we developed lasting friendships during the forty-five days we spent together.”

Next post: Reflections of a 1945 seagoing cowboy to France