Loose cabin items crashed to the floor as the ship attempted to maneuver itself in anticipation of one mountainous wave after another. Approaching the top of each wave, the ship seemed to hover in suspension if only for a brief moment. Loud and unnerving vibrations could be felt as the ship plummeted into the next trough. Strange sounds could be heard from throughout the ship as it plunged into the next trough. Seemingly, every rivet was being strained to its limit. We heard parts of the ship’s superstructure being snapped off, crashing to the deck only to be blown overboard.

The gate guards chose to secure and chain the consulate’s massive gates. A number of rowdy protesters stepped forward and began to climb the main fence. The guards sent an appeal for immediate support from the Chinese military support for by then the crowd had grown to more than a hundred. Several Chinese military jeeps with only a few armed soldiers appeared on the scene. Using clubs they managed to clear some of the agitators off and away from the fence. Even though additional armed soldiers appeared later their numbers were insufficient to disperse the expanding mob.

By early morning, the shiny DC-3 was heading southwest over the East China Sea. Taiwan’s coastline was its next marker. After some time, the plane began to descend through the high ceiling of broken clouds. It began flying low on a course heading toward the rolling, jungle-covered mountainous terrain north of Taipei. Our pilot and his crew kept their eyes peeled for the elongated landing strip in the green lush countryside below. The simple WWII strip was located just outside the slumbering town of Taipei.

As our car approached the hill fort, suddenly, Mom’s raised voice alerted Dad. He too had identified her concern as he disembarked from the car. There, perhaps 10 feet high on the massive wooden gates hung two severed human heads.

Once our ship came in sight of China’s mainland, a ragtag flotilla of tiny sampans and junks suddenly appeared ghost-like, seemingly out of nowhere. Our captain reduced speed as the ship entered the estuary. Within sight of its berth, excitement and anticipation bubbled up among the passengers standing outside on the ship’s frigid decks.

At the boarding, there was great excitement and fanfare. The embarkation was of considerable note. Even “Life Magazine,” one of America’s most widely-read, weekly magazines, assigned a team of its reporters to cover the ship’s launching. The S.S. President Cleveland was America’s first passenger ship to be launched following World War II. Bands played both on the pier and onboard. Pushy crowds were everywhere. Throngs of curious visitors mingled with passengers throughout the ship. At dockside visibility was limited by clouds of confetti and miles of streamers swirling in the wind. The thousands of streamers even appeared to connect the ship with the pier.