G O D I N A G O D F O R S A K E N L A N D 23 I met Otto up on the deck, about halfway into the voyage. We both deeply inhaled the air, clearing our noses of the stench from below deck. “August, how are you faring on the voyage?” Otto asked, his face downcast, his eyes sunken, and his large frame now thin and weak. I told him I was doing pretty well. “I haven’t eaten in five days,” he replied. “I cannot keep any food down. Maybe landed- farmers such as I were not made to be at sea,” he lamented. Indeed, the constant rolling of the ship made many of us sick. I had a bit of seasickness early in the voyage but soon learned to focus out onto the waves to overcome the nausea. The food was barely palatable and there was barely enough to sustain us. Some of us in second class had brought some sausage and apples and other items that we rationed out to ourselves in a frugal fashion. The skimpy bread, molasses, and rice, along with a thin, watery and vile-tasting soup were the total lot of the poor folks, espe- cially those down in steerage. The damp, cold, and extremely unsanitary conditions caused much discomfort in staying down there. I never wondered whether I would survive the journey, but clearly some did not make it to America. I felt sorry for the young wife and her husband when their first child was born be- low deck, but the little boy did very well, and all three surpris- ingly survived the voyage. Amidst the tedious and often brutal voyage, the joy of new life cheered all on board. All the political arguments and all the theories of life, the meaning of life, and other philosophical debates were brought up in the course of discussing all sorts of topics. Many of Adolf’s friends dissected the ideologies of various governments. They all seemed to reach the conclusion that Germany was on the wrong path and we were all on the correct path to America and a new, free beginning.