My story matches yours Heather. We were in Santo Thomas during WW II. I remember an "alert" called during the night mid trip, when it was thought a sub was in the vicinity. At 11 years old I refused to get on deck until I'd put on my new Red Cross-donated shoes, so by the time I started to climb up from my bunk area about 5 floors down in the belly of the ship, my mother was having a fit, and the alert was cancelled. The convoy took about 5 weeks to hit nearly every island in the Pacific as we sailed from Manila to Los Angeles.
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