I was with a friend once on a cycling holiday in Britany, when we arrived back in St Malo about 4 hours early for the ferry back to Southampton. it was 1983.
We went into a pub near the docks for a few beers and to rest our weary bones, when we got into conversation with an elderly gentleman.
He asked where we came from, and my mate at the time said he was born in Widnes...to which the old man's eyes lit up with nostalgia, saying he had digs in Widnes during the war, when he regularly sailed from Liverpool on wartime convoys.
He told us a few tales of sailing, but then dropped into the conversation that he had sailed to and from the USA 5 times in convoy, and was torpedoed 3 of those 10 trips, and in the end on the last trip stayed in Liverpool for the rest of the duration with a job as a hospital porter..........now that man WAS lucky.
He was a lovely old man, and my knowledge of French swear words grew greatly over the afternoon, plus our few hours in the pub passed so quickly.
Probably as quickly as his convoy survival techniques.
It was an honour to have talked with him, but boy oh boy could he put away the Pernod.
Jim.