Our convoy unloading ports in North Africa were pleasant places to be in—when the Germans were too busy to drop bombs on them, which fortunately was most of the time.  There on the open docks the sun beamed down warmly, and the air was clear and fresh.  Vast quantities of bombs and trucks and guns and food came pouring out of the busy hatches.

Thousands and thousands of American troops unloaded those ships as they came in.  At one port where I visited, enough American soldiers to make a good-sized city were working as stevedores.  About a fourth of theme were colored troops.  In addition, there were thousands of Arab stevedores.  The Americans were working a three-shift day, right around the clock.

The amount of material pouring out of those ships was impressive.  As I stood and looked around I felt that further shipments could be stopped right then, that it was enough.  Yet on soberer thought I realized that it was only a drop in the bucket.  The British and Germans in the Middle East had often captured many times that much stuff from each other without stopping the fight.  The flood then coming in must continue indefinitely and grow to an absolute cascade before it would be enough.

Convoys were coming through with remarkable safety, even the slow ones.  And ships were turned around quickly, although they weren’t approaching any world’s records.  With escort ships scarce as they were, I had supposed that one convoy a fortnight would be a good average.  Actually there were many times that.