| With her decks crowded with 14,000 returning American servicemen, the transatlantic liner Royal Mail Steamer (RMS) Queen Elizabeth steams into New York Bay on June 29, 1945. Photographed from a United States Coast Guard helicopter. The Victoria Daily Times reported on June 1, 1945: London – Britain’s peacetime white elephants turned out to be her wartime gold-dust twins. The mammoth Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth, cause of much head-shaking when built because of their colossal cost as compared with the prospects of depression-starved ocean travel, turned out to be 1 of the wisest investments Britain’s shipbuilders ever made. In the nearly 6 years of European war those 2 ships alone did the work of an ordinary fleet—and their work is not completed yet. Between them they carried 1,250,000 men to the fighting fronts, 1,000,000 of them going to Europe. They steamed more than 950,000 miles equal to 38 voyages around the world — and traveled unescorted across the Atlantic more than 70 times at an average speed of 32 to 33 knots. Started In 1940 – The Queen Mary was the 1st to go into war service. Already an Atlantic veteran, she made her 1st action trip from New York in the spring of 1940 loaded with 5,000 Australian soldiers. The Queen Elizabeth, still building when the war began, joined her sister ship in New York and in the spring of 1941 the 2 mammoths began their war-long partnership when they sailed from Sydney, Australia, the Mary carrying 6,000 troops and the Elizabeth carrying 5,600. Perhaps the most sensational trip undertaken by the 2 ships was a dash to Port Said carrying reinforcements for the British 8th Army for the Battle of El Alamein. It was the Queen Elizabeth that brought the 1st contingent of United States troops to Britain. The Queen Mary’s 1-trip record came in April, 1943, when the ship called at west, east and south Africa, Egypt, Arabia, the British East Indies and Australia, steaming more than 40,000 miles and burning more than 56,000 tons of oil. By the time she completed the trip she had carried 36,000 troops. Peak Was 23,000 — After May, 1943, by ripping out swimming pools and putting sleeping compartments in their place, the Queen’s capacity was lifted to more than 15,000 troops. In June that year the Queen Mary set a passenger record when she brought 23,000 United States soldiers across at 1 time. High point in the career of the Queen Mary were the 3 occasions she carried [United Kingdom] Prime Minister [Winston S.] Churchill [November 30, 1874 – January 24, 1965)] and his staff. But essentially the 2 ships worked-as a team, especially after 1943 when they began a regular ferry service across the Atlantic. Their great speed made them almost impossible targets for U-boats and without a U-boat incident they moved between British ports and New York and Halifax. They are still working together now, transporting United States and Canadian soldiers home. Citizens of Victoria had a particular interest in the war service of the Queen Elizabeth. They had an opportunity to see the world’s largest ship in 1942 when she anchored in the Royal Roads and later entered the Esquimalt drydock, where extensive interior alterations were carried out which increased her troop-carrying capacity. The Idaho Statesman related the story of an Atlantic crossing on the Queen Elizabeth. Editor’s Note: Corporal [later Sergeant] Henry F. Hayes [September 23, 1905 – January 2, 1973)], Boisean [enlisted November 10, 1942], writes of his trip across in 1943 as “passenger” of the world’s greatest “luxury liner,” the Queen Elizabeth. Censorship, just recently relaxed, forbade description of troop traveling, even though 2 years had elapsed. “Taking up where I left off in my last letter will continue telling you how we all got over here on this island. “We lined up on the pier according to the numbers we had chalked on our helmets and passed by Major Blanton and a ship’s officer, who issued us cards — we knew not what for, but they later turned out to be chow tickets and stateroom numbers. Then we continued in our line towards the gang planks. Every alternate man went up the 1st gang plank and into the ship. The other half of the unit went up on the 2nd plank and onto the open upper decks of the great ship. I was in the bunch that went into the ship and when saw the dazzling splendor of this magnificent liner, it took my breath away. A GI told me to drag the “A” bag instead of carrying it on my shoulder. I just hated to drag it across that glistening hardwood floor, but as it was plenty heavy I complied. I spotted a small, gold leaf sign which in a dignified manner read, “His Majesty’s Ship, Queen Elizabeth.” I could hardly believe our good fortune. Here I was, on board the greatest liner afloat. Me, who just 9 months before was busy making glaring typographical errors for The Idaho Statesman, riding the King’s mightiest craft. (Don’t you guys that came over on the Queen Mary give me any argument, the Elizabeth is 3 feet longer than the Mary.) “The stateroom was a knock-out, a private bath and all. Just 1 slight inconvenience – they stuck 18 of us in each stateroom. The bunks were triple deckers. I grabbed a top 1 right beside the port holes. It was terribly warm in the ship and the breeze was a life saver, until some old salt shouted over the ship’s public address system, “Close them port holes and keep ‘em closed.” The blackout regulations were strictly enforced, and all port holes were closed during the hours of darkness. “Queen of All Liners” — The Queen Elizabeth was not yet finished when war broke out. She is truly the queen of all luxury liners, as well as the largest, having a length 3 feet longer than the Mary and tonnage displacement of 85,000, or 4,000 more than her sister ship. The North German Lloyd liner Bremen has, or had, a tonnage greater than the Mary. “On our Atlantic cruise this great ship was carrying 18,000 American soldiers, men and officers, as well as 400 American Army nurses and an English crew of a 1,000 men. The crew is somewhat larger in peacetime. Ours was the 23rd crossing and a crew member informed me that on some of her voyages she had carried 25,000 men. We were very lucky in being quartered on “A” deck. We were above the water line and could open the ports in the daytime. Anything under ‘B’ deck was below the water line, and you would find yourself in a very awkward position if you happened to open a port hole there. As only half of the squadron were assigned to staterooms, the others being on the open upper decks, it was necessary to have a ‘change over’ each morning at 1100 Hours. Jim Mulligan, a mechanic from Bluffton, South Carolina, would take my bunk while I spent 24 hours on deck. It was possible to sleep on deck, but that old floor was a little hard. During ‘change over’ everyone was required to come up onto the promenade and boat decks. The promenade deck was just above our staterooms on ‘A’ deck, and the boat deck is above the promenade. The ship has 1 large deck above the boat deck, the sun deck, but that was reserved for officers. ‘Change over’ took the better part of an hour each day. Below us was ‘B’ deck, then the saloon deck where our dining room was located, below it ‘C’ deck and D’ deck, and then below D’ deck was the engine room. When you walk down the many iron steps to the very bottom of the boat you have the feeling of being down in a deep mine. (Note to Editor: I’m writing from memory and if some of my facts, figures and dates do not jibe exactly, you can charge it to overwork, old age or battle damage.) Feeding, Huge Problem — Feeding of the troops was a huge problem, but was handled smoothly by the ship’s officers. Each man had a mess card numbered 1, 2, 3, or 4, or 5. Only 2 meals were served each day. breakfast starting at 7 a. m. and dinner starting at 4 p. m. Promptly at 0600 Hours each morning the ‘old salt’ would shout over the address system that it was reveille, followed an hour later by ‘All men with No. 1 mess cards form your lines,’ and he would repeat it several times. There were 3 dining rooms, the ship’s regular dining salon for officers, a smaller 1 on ‘D’ deck where the crew and the MPs and the men who had been unfortunate enough to get stuck with permanent Kitchen Patrol (KP) duty ate their meals, and the main dining room which was on the salon deck. It had seating capacity for more than 3,000, in peacetime it will be the swimming pool. 16 men were seated at each table on long benches and a KP brought the food and acted as waiter for each table. The food was served family style and there was enough of it. English cooks had charge of the galley and some of their dishes were decidedly out of tune with our customary diets. Fried tomatoes for breakfast failed to make a hit with most of us. The newspapers were filled with reports of U-boat activities and an occasional enemy sea raider was discovered plying the convoy routes of the high seas. To say that some of us were nervous about the coming crossing is putting it mildly. Some fellows were plain scared. The loading of the ship had taken nearly a week, our group being the next to last to go aboard. At 1000 Hours on the morning of August 20, [1943], after our 1st night and 1st meal, the great engines sent a shudder throughout the ship’s length and breadth and in a very short time we were backing away from the pier and heading down the Hudson River. With the help of the New Yorkers we were able to pick out the Chrysler, Woolworth and Empire State buildings, as well as the beautiful Radio City tower. We passed world famous Coney Island. Our “Atlantic cruise’ practically became an ‘Atlantic bruise,’ for when we passed the Statue of Liberty, every man on the ship wanted to see and wave a last farewell to the symbol of our nation; the girl who represents the thing we were leaving America to defend. When we passed the submarine nets at the mouth of the harbor all of us were looking for the convoy, especially for the battleships that we thought would escort us through the U-boat infested waters. There wasn’t any convoy and there wasn’t any battleships. This queen of the Cunard Line fleet would run the U-boat blockade alone. The ship is fast enough that it can outrun any sub in the German Navy. The planes of the Atlantic aerial patrol were continually passing overhead for the 1st 2 days, and they were a great comfort. Another precaution that is taken for the safety of the human cargo is in the ship’s navigation. Every 7 minutes the captain changes the course: This continual turning of the vessel makes for a slightly rough ride, especially at night when the pilot has the throttle wide open and is hitting it off at anywhere from 35 to 40 knots an hour. But by doing this, a sub is prevented from laying in wait for you. “Passengers” Receive Orders — The old salt with the loud speaker was forever giving us instructions for our conduct. Smoking was prohibited in the staterooms or any place below decks. You had to eat chow with your own group as shown by the number on the mess tickets or you didn’t eat. You had to wear the “Mae West” life preserver at all times. The first day out, Staff Sergeant Rupert Kalet [(March 6, 1906 – February 8, 1990)] from Los Angeles went on deck without his Mae West. K. K. as we call him, because he is afflicted with stuttering, was caught by an MP without this important piece of equipment. It caused a very comical scene, as the MP made K. K. leave his shoes with him until he went below deck in his stocking feet to get it and return. K. K. tried and tried to explain that his word was good, he’d get the darn thing but just let him have his shoes. He became so exasperated that he couldn’t say a word, finally he gave it up and tiptoed down and got the life preserver. When he came back after his shoes sweating and still mad — he put his finger up next to the MP’s face and stammered, “This is sso re-re-redi silly.” The daily routine for me was breakfast at 0830 Hours, changeover at 1100, get a copy of the ship’s newspaper, the ‘Ocean News’ at 1200. At 1300 Hours the guy on the address system would announce a complete schedule of the day’s activities on the ship. Dinner at 1630 Hours, lights on the promenade deck were turned off at 2030 Hours, the blackout doors that made a closed deck of the promenade having been put in place at 1930 Hours. Lights in the staterooms were turned off at 2200. That doesn’t sound like much to keep the boys busy, and you’re certainly right. Different fellows found different diversions, so I’ll tell you what I did to occupy my time. During the 1st afternoon we lost sight of land, we watched the water and dreamed. You can have some delightful dreams looking at the briny deep. You try to figure out where all that water came from. A log will float past or a can or bottle. Someone will usually make some nonsensical remark about anything floating by. Several times each day we were warned not to throw anything overboard as it would leave a trail. The Catalina flying boats that passed lazily overhead carrying on never-ending patrol were interesting as well as comforting. The flying fish were a marvel to most of us. I had never seen them before. They would shoot along at a pace as fast as the ship, keeping above the water and if an extra high wave came rolling along shoot right through it. Ample Relaxation — There was a dance each night in the lounge and the 400 nurses did not want for dancing partners, as it was wonderful relaxation to spend the evening in the well ventilated lounge and the music was good. The orchestra was composed of passengers, 3 of our gang, Troxler, Robinson, (Everett, not Roy) and Jimmy Surace played with the ship’s band. “We had a boxing card which was very good — 15-round bouts. The theatrical talent was combed out and each night a show put on in ‘B’ mess hall. Some of the entertainers were professionals. The MC’s were mostly Hollywood characters with the movie flare for doing things in a big way. The shows were excellent. Every night I got myself down to ‘D’ deck and grabbed a good seat. We had movies each afternoon. The films were mostly singing and dancing shorts. The ‘literary set’ would gather in the library and hold discussions which as a rule dealt with a new book or some current topic that was agreeable to all. I must say that these meetings should have had a better at-tendance. The officers had a cocktail lounge and the sergeants a ‘coke’ bar. There was a coke bar for all that was very popular, yet very unpopular. The place was too busy. The line would snake all around the deck and down the staircase and around the companionways of the deck below. The candy bar was also exceptionally popular when the boys found that it was possible to buy Hersheys by the box-the place was swamped. The 2nd morning out the ship’s gunners had a drill. It frightened the daylights out of several when the ack-ack batteries went into action. They would throw up parachute targets and then the gunners would proceed to blow them to smithereens. The gun crews on the 5-inch cannons were expert marksmen. They would throw a smoke bomb about 2 miles off to the side of the boat, then with unerring aim place shot after shot right square in the bomb. The crew on these guns were American soldiers. On the same day we experienced our 1st submarine warning. The ‘old salt’ on the loud speaker started off in a calm voice by telling us to move inside and to move down to the lower decks. The man doing the announcing must be very good, or he will do more harm than good. It would be awfully hard to get us “land lubbers’ to go inside of a ship if we thought it was about to be sunk. He repeated his message in the same calm voice several times. After 4 or 5 minutes a slight tinge of excitement creeped into that businesslike official voice, and then we all started asking questions. What’s the matter? What’s this all about? Do you think it’s an air raid? etcetera, etcetera. The staircases and open areas of the lower decks were jammed to bursting. After about 15 minutes we were given the ‘all clear’ and returned to the upper part of the ship. It was then that we found out what it was all about. Sight Ireland — The 3rd and 4th days of the voyage were in colder regions. An overcoat was a necessity on the open decks. The planes were noticeable by their absence. 1 single plane did show up from nowhere out there in the middle of the boundless ocean. I think it was a B-24 but can’t find many that will agree with me. This was August 23, 1943, and before we had bases in the Azores. On the morning of the 5th day, August 25, we came in sight of land. It was Ireland. As Red Gremlin said: ‘It must be Ireland see how green it is.’ We had an escort of Spitfires and Hurricanes at this time. Our course was around the northern tip of Ireland and into the Firth of Clyde. Mine sweepers were working ahead of the ship now at all times. It was a warm, calm afternoon and the hills of Scotland were not only beautiful, they were a welcome sight to us. We were glad that the ocean crossing had been completed so quickly and without a single mishap. The Elizabeth had cut her speed down to about 10 knots for-the entry into the Clyde river. The crush against the railings was rough on those who had gotten the choice positions. Everyone wanted to look and take in everything of interest. I was in the stateroom that afternoon and had me a porthole. Mulligan was there with me. The ship dropped anchor in the Clyde at Greenock, Scotland, at 1700 Hours August 25. The ship had traveled approximately 3,500 miles because of the continual changing of her course to avoid the sub traps. Numerous small boats came alongside the huge liner. Some were there to take off some of the more important passengers. Some were there just to see what the boys would drop down to them. It was against orders but the harbor “hobos” were showered with oranges and cigarettes. If an article dropped into the water, it was fished out. We amused ourselves this manner until nearly 2100 Hours when we turned in. Early the next morning we began to disembark. We were again very lucky, being the 1st complete unit to leave the ship. Those who had turned in their “A” bags at New York now picked them up from the hold of the ship. We boarded a small steamer through a gang way on “D” deck and made the short run over to the pier at Greenock. All “A” bags were stored in 2 baggage cars on our special train. We were not crowded on the train trip down through little town in Northamptonshire, little town in Northamptonshire, near Peterborough and 80 miles (128 kilometers) north of London. “I will close by saying that our train was met by either the American Red Cross or the Women’s Voluntary Service at every stop and we were given handouts. Red Cross clubmobile was at the blacked-out — and I mean a real blackout — Kingscliffe station with the all-American dish — doughnuts and coffee.” The Boston Globe wrote on June 30, 1945, “New York Roars Great Welcome to Yanks on Queen Elizabeth,” by reporter Robert S. Bird [(January 15, 1905 — February 15, 1970)] New York — The Queen Elizabeth. the largest ship in the world, arrived in New York Harbor yesterday with 14,810 troops to receive the greatest harbor reception of the war. The shrill happy waterfront welcome was in the nature of a double salute — to the homecoming troops for a job well done, and to a queen of the seas who never before had been officially welcomed in New York. The 85,500-ton British liner had been slipping secretly in and out of New York on hazardous voyages all during the war, but because she was not completed until several months after Germany went to war, she never had the ceremonious maiden voyage and harbor reception that is the proud right of every great new liner. Yesterday’s harbor ovation was that belated welcome, and no ship could have had a better 1. Her 14,810 GI celebrities, most of them members of the 8th Air Force, were the greatest number of passengers ever brought into New York on a single ship. 1 of the few civilian passengers aboard her was Princess Juliana [[April 30, 1909 – March 20, 2004)], heir-apparent to the Netherlands throne, who was on her way to Ottawa, Canada, to get her children and return them to liberated Holland. Although most of the troops are on their way around to the other side of the world to fight Japan, with 30-day furloughs in this country, they were happily resigned to the prospect. On the voyage over they organized a ship’s show, entitled “Home-Run Follies,” and the theme song was “I’m on My Way to the Pacific Because I Got Caught With My Points Down.” That was the cheerful expression of their feelings. The ship brought in 13,113 United States Army personnel, 446 nurses, 1,159 Navy personnel, 33 members of a French naval mission and 26 ciivilians. The Queen Elizabeth is a huge ship, so huge that her many-storied hull sent the whistles and blasts of welcoming vessels echoing back over the harbor. But her clipper-style prow and her 2 funnels canted backward gave her the graceful lines of a yacht. Her decks were wholly obscured by the thousands of khaki figures that had come topside to see the United States of America once more and the Statue of Liberty and all the wonderful harbor sights. The day was sweltering, and the men below docks were stripped to their waists as they hung out the portholes waiting to disembark. Hundreds of them were still recovering from bad cases of seasickness which they suffered yesterday in a heavy buffeting which the ship received from the tail of the tropical storm that beat up the coast. The Queen Elizabeth’s officers will tell the vessel’s wartime saga at a ship’s reception on Monday, but meanwhile Colonel William R. Barnett [(October 5, 1897 – March 20, 1962)] of Newburgh, New York, transport commander of the ship, told a little about his job of shepherding some 500,000 troops back and forth over the Atlantic. Back in 1942, Colonel Barnett was an officer in an infantry division at Fort Benning. He received a call from Washington. “Have you ever been on an ocean liner?” He replied. “Never in my life.” He was told, “Well, you are going on one.” “I’ve been with the Queen Elizabeth ever since,” he said. “I’ve made seventy-four crossings of the Atlantic.” Colonel Barnett said that the Army authorities were a little worried at first that the exuberant temper of returning troops might get out of hand, but no such thing happened. “They are the best behaved bunch et fellows in the world,” he said. “They are too busy eating to think up trouble for us.” The disembarking began at 1500 Hours from 4 gangplanks and the happy veterans beamed at the Red Cross girls who handed them milk, coffee and doughnuts. The Queen Elizabeth’s 1st trip into New York was made March 6, 1940, when she made an epic run through the German submarine blockade. Her movements since have seen under a security blackout, but during most of the war she has been in the troop transport service between New York and England. The Associated Press wrote on June 30, 1945, in an article widely circulated to American newspapers: Noisy Welcome Given 1,4,860 Returning On Queen Elizabeth — New York Harbor went wild yesterday, giving a thunderous welcome to 14,860 soldiers and sailors crowded aboard the largest liner in the world, the Queen Elizabeth. All harbor craft and the rusty, war-battered freighters anchored in the bay saluted the great ship with 3 blasts of their whistles-and the majestic Queen returned each salute with her own deep-throated reply. Boats crossing the harbor packed with wives and mothers waved, and weeping as they watched the return of their men. The newly painted ship, built to carry 2,400 in peacetime, docked at Pier 90 opposite midtown Manhattan and the long process of debarkation began. Some civilian passengers were aboard the vessel, including Princess Juliana of the Netherlands and Senators Richard B. Russell Jr.[(November 2, 1897 – January 21, 1971)], Democrat, of Georgia and Burnet R. Maybank [(March 7, 1899 – September 1, 1954)], Democrat, of South Carolina and Representatives Harold H. “Doc” Earthman [(April 13, 1900 – February 26, 1987)], Democrat, of Tennessee and Harold D. Cooley [(July 26, 1897 – January 15, 1974)], Democrat, of North Carolina. Another passenger was the only son of General Charles de Gaulle [[November 22, 1890 – November 9, 1970)], Lieutenant Junior Grade Philippe Henri de Gaulle [(December 28, 1921 – March 13, 2024)], who said he was going to study naval aviation and go to the Pacific when he won his wings. The 13,658 Army troops aboard were mostly personnel of the 8th Air Force and hospital units. There also were 1,202 naval officers and men on the ship. The Des Moines Register reported on June 30, 1945: New York, New York – The majestic 85,000-ton Queen Elizabeth, the world’s fastest and largest liner, Friday arrived in New York harbor with 14.867 soldiers, sailors, army nurses and civilians. The civilians included Princess Juliana of The Netherlands. Another passenger was the only son of General Charles de Gaulle, Lieutenant Junior Grade Philippe Henri de Gaulle, who said he was going to study naval aviation and go to the Pacific when he won his wings. The ship was given a thunderous harbor reception that exceeded that given her sister ship, the Queen Mary, when the latter arrived last week with 14,526 passengers. The gleaming vessel, built to carry 2,400 in peace time and converted for the war, reached Ambrose Light on schedule at 1130 Hours. She came speeding through the mist in her battle dress of camouflage grey. A silvery cigar-shaped blimp picked her up off the coast and flew down low enough to serenade the thousands of cheering men cramming her decks and portholes. GIs even filled her life boats. Recently repainted and re-fitted, the 28,000,000 dollar ship had hundreds of gay banners along her more than 1,000-foot frame. The Queen Elizabeth was greeted off Fort Hamilton by 2 army boats, a press boat and a special boat carrying American and British officials. Army bands played from the boats to thunderous cheers and whistles. Some soldiers yelled down to the WAC band asking if there was a law against fraternization in the United States. The 446 army nurses came from 6 hospitals in Germany, England, France and Belgium. As they debarked they talked mostly of the bravery and stoicism of the wounded men they had tended. Most of the soldiers aboard were elements of the 8th Air Force ground crews and hospital units. There were 1,202 naval officers and men. | |
| Image Filename | wwii2121.jpg |
| Image Size | 287.97 KB |
| Image Dimensions | 1138 x 1613 |
| Photographer | |
| Photographer Title | American Embassy London |
| Caption Author | Written or Adapted by Jason McDonald |
| Date Photographed | June 29, 1945 |
| Location | |
| City | New York |
| State or Province | New York |
| Country | United States |
| Archive | Imperial War Museum |
| Record Number | NYP 74029 |
| Status | Caption ©2026 MFA Productions LLC Please Do Not Duplicate or Distribute Without Permission; Image in the Public Domain |
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