Smalley (DD 565) - Naval Cruise Book

Page 46 text:

We ' . , 4 A ' ,ff ik E N km I xxx f vj i J Q 'V . , in fp is .i he . p pp 'L l iillg it , t -fra-VW .K f-,fx A - Suez Canal, turned into the Red Sea. The large amount of shipping We encountered dur- ing the ensuing days gave testimony to the volume of traffic that flowed down the desert ditch. Ten days after leaving the oil fields of Ras- at-Tanura We dropped the Khooki' in the harbor of Port Suez and awaited our turn to enter the Canal. Unlike the Panama Canal, the Suez can handle traffic only in one direction at a time. Eighty miles long and only forty yards Wide, this Wet blue pencil line on the brown paper of the desert connects the Mediterran- ean With the Red Sea, subsequently with the Near and Far East. Our passage was to be made at night and it Was with unusual curiosity that we noted the jury rig of lights that Was required by the Canal Authorities. As we started through and the cold Wind began whipping down from across the desert, foul Weather jackets and pea coats made their appearance about the ship for the first time since before the cruise began. Very little could be seen of the surrounding country but We Were assured by those who had been through before that nothing in the Way of scenic Wonders was being missed. -4 1 ff-,I Both sides of the Canal are empty desert and stretch for the lull length of this engineering wonder from Port Suez to Port Said. The eerie glow cast by the huge nionstrosity of a light strapped across our bow gave a gl1oStliU6SS to the nearby desert dune. lt gave the feeling of being in another world-a world of lonely eniptincss. At speeds ranging between seven and ten knots and with several prolonged periods Of waiting for the Canal to be cleared of other shipping. it took thirteen hours to arrive 111 Port Said. Once again the iircrooin pGl'S011l19l were broken out to tucl ship. By late after- noon we were ready to get underway. AS the sun was strangling itsell: in its own red llille to the west, we took one last look at another of the cities that we never really saw eXC6Pt liroin the niain deck. Port Said was a large city. the largest we had seen since Colon1lJ0- It bespoke a certain opulent-e and activity that was vouclicd for by the large and apparently lucrative ainount ol' incrcliant shippillg ml' chored in the harbor. A day ashore ill fhls exotic lilyivlitian tlitx' would have been ll1t6l f'SlllliI,. but alas, it was not to be, so we pushed on out into the choppy Xlcditerrancan and tl1'3 oncoming darkness. 42 A 3

Page 45 text:

254 Mm.. .gawiviihv Q 1167 With nearly 4,500 miles of steaming ahead of her before reaching the next liberty port the Smalley backed away from the pier at Ras- at-Tanura and headed down the Persian Gulf. Brief fueling stops were scheduled for Aden and Port Said. In the course of the next 1:3 days the Smalleyis twin eleven-and-a-half foot screws would push the ship through seven gulfs and seas and the worldis longest canal. WVe retraced our track down the Persian Gulf and into the Gulf of Oman, skirted the tip of Arabia and steamed into the Indian Ocean. For two days the Division cruised along the slatternly, barren, brown coast of southern Arabia. There was not a green thing in sight. Our stop in Aden brought a few hours respite in our underway routine, but still the scenery remained the same. One cursory glance from the main deck and we felt no pangs of disappointment at the thought that within six hours, Aden would be but a mem- ory. The Colony for the most part consisted of several rickety baked mud buildings lean- Hflihffiiwv Port Said ing at drunken angles and scattered over the side of a mountain. With the exception of a few white faced Government buildings, the British Protectorate of Aden gave the impres- sion that it was trying to burrow itself into the blackish brown rock of the dead volcano upon which it existed. As Aden faded away into indistinct un- eveness in the horizon, the Division formed into a column and with a straight shot at the X S X X S Aden 41 The desert sentinel

Page 47 text:

Us litem at . . fa- 5. The Acropolis Athens On a grey December morning two days before Christmas, the Smalley wound her way up the channel into the harbor of Piraeus and tied up outboard of the Cotten to a rather rickety-looking old pier. So this was sunny southern Greece. It felt more like the North Pole or Newport. Our first glimpse of the fabled lands of Hellas had come as a persistent blue grey mountain peak thrust its broken nose through the pall of clouds and morning mist that shrouded the horizon. As the Smalley had pushed aside the miles, the white walled houses of the town became apparent and they seemed to run up and down the mountainside, from the summit to the sea. Parthenon 43 Piraeus is the port for Athens, the latter being about eight or ten miles inland. To some extent Greece presented a paradox. Here had been the birthplace of western civilization, here too, amid the sad old ruins of a great nation could be found all the dregs .and filth which the tides of the world and centuries had thrown upon the shores of Pellopenesus. One day was all that was required to see Piraeus. The migration of 1200 Americans from the pier at Piraeus to Athens was a tour companys dream. The target for this vast migration was the ruins of the ancient Acropo- lis. The highest point of land in the city, the Acropolis looked like a table top littered with broken pieces of white china. It stood out starkly in all its weathered whiteness against the deep grey of the cloudy sky. lt truly looked like a ghost from the past standing guard over the city-the ghost of Greek greatness. There must have been many who felt this as they unlimbered their cameras for a first shot 'of that about which they had heard and read so much. After our guide had given a preliminary speech and pointed out Mars Hill and the spot where Socrates had received the hemlock over two thousand years ago, along with-several other interesting points, we proceeded up to the Acropolis. Of all the temples that at one time crowned this height, there were only two