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I was on the bridge with the Captain when we sailed from our
position behind the Isle of Wight, where we had been aboard ship for
two days. Our ship, the H. M. S. St. Helier, carried assault craft
in the davits. She was a converted channel steamer and good in the
sea.

Most of the officers were either in the ward room or with the men.
I remember no one being very sleepy and the time seemed long waiting
to give the men the sea sick tablets before breakfast. Breakfast of
sausage and scrambled eggs was not enjoyed, with the usual remark, "Where
will we have the next one?".

I spent considerable time on deck during the crossing and well re-
member the bright orange color of the sky over the Cherbourg area, the
escort ships and the red guide lights for the ships.

I remember only one conversation — A young Lieutenant from attached
troops, the tallest and thinnest man I ever met, said he was going
ashore sideways so they could not hit him. I do not know his name but
he obviously carried out his plan, as I saw him later on the beach —
shot through the nose.