No one thought of it as a thing of beauty,
it wasn't fast, or notably maneuverable,
in foul weather it was known to break up,
but for months on end it did the job.
It was the Liberty ship of World War II,
an awkward, unattractive freighter
that carried troops and vital cargoes
to wherever they were needed.
The men who risked their lives
in these ships were mariners
of the Merchant fleet and U.S. Navy
sailors who manned the guns.
They took them to such hostile places
as Murmansk in Russia's Far North
and steamy beaches in the South Pacific,
as often as not against heavy odds.
To reach their destination they faced
U-boats and surface raiders, and then
were targeted by fighter planes and bombers
that attacked with awful accuracy.
At sea, the Navy men who manned
the guns stood watch around the clock
and dreaded the sight of a torpedo's wake
that could mean days in a life raft.
Still, more often than not, the clumsy,
ugly-duckling that was the Liberty
took its people up against the enemy
then brought them home again.
The men who sailed in the Liberty
have mixed memories of that time,
some that call up a smile of pleasure,
some that still bring back a chill.
But none has put out of his mind
the way he felt about that gray,
unlovely ship that beat the odds
and brought him home again.
-- Francis B. Kent
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