Vignettes

Food Memories

• Longing for food is a strong memory among the children who were on the Zamzam. Then seven years old, Ruth mentions that her family album has a picture of a huge, huge stack of pancakes. Ruth had made the picture while on the Dresden. "Not surprisingly I was longing for a big stack of yummy pancakes instead of the goo we were given to eat!"

Ruth continues: "Do you remember the can of baked beans someone had? My mother counted out the beans and put the same number in paper nut cups so each child got an equal share. Likewise someone had a package of Jello which was made up and then carefully cut into cubes as equally-sized as humanly possible, so we each got a sweet jewel to savor for a minute. Didn't we once or twice get something that could pass for sandwiches? We took our bowls up on deck and picnicked! I do remember complaining about the worms (maggots) in the goo. Mother said, 'It's all right. They're cooked!' "

• Sometimes aboard the Dresden the children talked about things they missed, hoping the sunken items could be replaced when life returned to normal. They yearned for balls and bats, for dolls, or maybe a bicycle. One day during such a discussion, ten-year-old Laurence turned to his mother: "Mama, do you know what I want most of all when we get to land?" "What is it, Sonny -- maybe I can get it for you," his mother responded tentatively. Solemnly Laurence went on: "I want roast beef, mashed potatoes, and gravy."

• The Zamzam children remember the kindness of German guards aboard the Dresden. At every reunion someone recalls a time a guard came on deck with an orange saved from his meal. At least a dozen children soon gathered and watched longingly as the guard deftly peeled the orange and sectioned it -- and then gave each child a portion. "We even ate the peeling, and it tasted so good," somebody always adds with appreciation.

Greatly relieved, Lillian and the children removed life jackets and crawled back into their bunks, thankful that the night’s disturbance had been only a bad scare, not any real danger.

But the following morning Lillian made an urgent visit to the purser's office. During the scare, Lillian had discovered that her family had only six life jackets. They needed one more. Looking at toddler Lois whom Lillian was holding, the purser tried to dismiss Lillian, saying, "If anything would happen, the baby would drown anyhow." But, Lillian was determined. Reluctantly the purser finally found another jacket and handed it to Lillian.

Returning to her cabin, Lillian took out a sewing needle and strong thread. She began mending, not only the jacket just given to her but all the life jackets. They were in terrible condition, full of holes. Shoulder straps and side ties were loose and even missing. Also, Lillian realized that all the jackets were adult size, so she shortened some straps. For most of the morning she sewed and sewed, making all seven life jackets as serviceable as possible. Then she stuffed them under the bunks, hoping she would never again need to see them.

However, a few mornings later, as exploding shells bombarded the Zamzam, those life jackets were hurriedly taken out and again pulled over heads. This time the danger was real. With lights dimming and broken glass scattered across the cabin floor, Lillian tied the life jackets and comforted her children with prayer. Finally the shelling stopped. Lillian led her children to their lifeboat and climbed in. Soon they were lowered to the water, and the strong arms of crew members rowed them away from the crippled Zamzam.

But, help! The lifeboat was filling with water. It was like a sieve! Shrapnel had riddled the boat with small holes. Suddenly the lifeboat capsized and submerged, dumping all its passengers into the South Atlantic Ocean.

Lillian held her baby more tightly as they went down. Soon they all bobbed back to the surface. Coughing and sputtering, the children tried so hard to be brave. Lillian reminded her children again and again that Jesus loved them. God was a very present help.

As she saw the life jackets keeping the children afloat, Lillian felt so grateful for that scare a few nights previously. What if God had not nudged her to mend the life jackets?

"God is often at work in ways we do not know at the time. He can even use a bad experience to bring about good. Thank you, Father."

You may read the story of Lillian and her children in the book Miracle at Sea. See and hear Lillian on the DVD/video "Zamzam, A Missionary Odyssey". See Resources on this website.

Life Jacket Shortage

As the Zamzam pulled away from its berth in Hoboken, New Jersey, it was not carrying sufficient life jackets. Cabins should have provided as many jackets as bunks, one for each passenger. It was not that there were only a few jackets missing -- the shortage was severe.

The shortage was noticed by two of the men passengers, Robert Muir and Curt Morrill. The situation could have very serious consequences, they knew. So, when the Zamzam docked at Baltimore, Maryland, these two gentlemen quickly headed to the harbor police to report the shortage.

The police told Mr. Muir and Mr. Morrill to report back to the police at midnight, saying that, if sufficient jackets had not been secured by then, the Zamzam would not be allowed to leave the harbor the next day.

Midnight came. There had been no increase in the number of life jackets. So the two men quietly returned to the harbor police to report.

Sometime during the night hours, however, more life jackets were brought on board the Zamzam, and, as Mr. Muir and Mr. Morrill came out on deck in the morning sunshine, there were the ship's officers, busily handing out jackets. Now with sufficient life jackets, the Zamzam soon sailed again, on her way to Africa.

In view of what later happened in the South Atlantic on April 17, without the observation and persistence of Mr. Muir and Mr. Morrill, the Zamzam story could have been a horror story of the worst kind.

Thanks be to God for alert and faithful helpers.