More often than not, when the dust settled merchant seamen tended not to speak about The War, leaving their children and grandchildren to wonder about their service to the country. Oftentimes, tucked away in an old trunk or in a box they left behind clues, such as a U.S. Department of Commerce “Seaman’s Identification Wallet.” These thick black oilskin wallets embossed with a twin-stacked steamship or a four funnel liner held a seamen’s work history and identity documents – from their discharge slips, Seaman’s passport, to award cards. Sometimes they might have a prayer or a photo of a loved one inside. These wallets had a chain on them to be linked to a seaman’s belt loop – that way, if the owner was blown overboard, their documents would go with them.
Other indicators of a life on the sea were union books and the once-hated Continuous Discharge Book. The latter was derisively called a “fink book” by the more militant union rank and file. Fink books could hold secret markings by masters upon pay off stating whether or not a seaman was a troublemaker, thus affecting future impartial employment and the use of the rotary system of ship assignment. Or at least that was the fear. Many books may have had a single entry during the course of the war – some mariners signed on to a single ship and it sailed to and fro for the duration. After that, short-timers left the industry, leaving this singular record for others to ponder.
