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Memoirs of Lloyd Moss: 1930

I visited the ruins of Pompeii, tht wonderful Roman resort city that was buried by Vesuvius in 79 A.A., lost sight of for centuries and even now not completely uncovered. Anyone with the slightest interest in ancient history shouldn't miss seeing it. On my second visit I was a member of the shore patrol and traveled around as aide to the patrol commander. It seems that he had gotten some inside information about Pompeii and he bribed a guide to show us the Roman pornography, something very few visitors got to see, at that time, anyway. After leaving Naples, we went south toward Sicily. Then suddenly our radio shack got a message from the Italian Government to the effect that the volcano on the island of Stromboli was erupting and since we were the closest ship to it, would we check to see whether the island inhabitants were in need of help. Our captain immediately ordered full speed in that direction and the island came in sight at eleven o'clock that night. It was quite a sight. The whole island appeared to be just a mountain sticking up out of the sea but the upper part is tilted way over on one side. So, when we steamed around to that side what we saw was like a great gash in the side of the volcano and there was fiery lava belching up and spilling down to the water's edge. It was an extremely spectacular firework display from the Chester.

Anyway, we circled the island once and then came to anchor on the opposite side. From here we could see grape vineyards up the side with here and there little stone cottages, very peaceful, except that once in a while a particularly large eruption would show a little flame above the top. One of our whaleboats was lowered and a small delegation of officers went ashore. They came back fairly soon saying the inhabitants were not very alarmed. Apparently this was no big deal to them as they must have seen it happen before and all the first stayed on the other side. So we sailed off again seeing the fireworks grow smaller and smaller in the distance. The next morning we had a beautiful trip through the Strait of Messina with fine views of both the toe of the Italian boot and the Island of Sicily.

Our next port of call was Piraeus, Greece. However, we were told not to stop in the port city at all but to get straight onto the electric train and go up to Athens a few miles inland. Piraeus had a bad reputation for cutthroats at the time so most of us did as we were told. Anyway it was a nice ride through country that I could imagine had once contained Athen's ancient walled road to the sea. I could look off and see the chalky, dusty hills in the distance and remember that it looked just as the text in our geography book said it should. At the edge of the city the train went underground and we were soon walking up the steps of the depot in the center of town. I found it very easy to get around because you could almost always look off and see a high point like the Acropolis or Saint George's peak to orient yourself by. I had the feeling of being in one of the world's wonder spots and tried to see everything possible. Although the monumental structures were very familiar to me from their pictures I actually found them much larger and more beautifully fashioned than I had ever imagined. Most of the time I was alone because I can cover a lot more ground that way. But for a few hours I allowed a guide to attach himself to me and he showed and told me a lot about the city that I would have otherwise missed. He complained bitterly about Lord Elgin's stealing away the best marble displays. I didn't tell him that I thought they probably wouldn't be around to be seen by anyone today if he hadn't. He also showed me where some American archaeologists were just starting to uncover the area where the ancient market place was. I visited the place hollowed out of the rocky hillside where Socrates was imprisoned and I walked to the top of the high pointed hill where this is just room for one little building one half of which was Saint George's chapel and the other half a bar-room.

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