My brother and I traveled as Italian citizens with Italian passports. My grandfather lived in Copenhagen but was of Italian origin and was not allowed to become a Danish citizen this rule passed on to his children and on to us.
I had never met my parents till I came to Canada. My father was employed and lived at various foreign embassies and unfortunate for me no children were allowed. My mother had passed away a few months after I was born and my father remarried a lady from Italy also employed with an Italian countess who visited Denmark when Queen Elizabeth II, then princess, came to Copenhagen. Therefore I knew nothing about my mother's passing till my brother told me on route aboard the ship and showed me photographs of her. Due to my age at that time it was not a very serious issue but as the years went by I came to realize just how important losing a parent was. My brother had the privilege of living with an uncle so he was able to visit with my father and new mother. Yes, this was a great event in my life to meet parents I thought I never had since I was living in an orphanage in Denmark. Until one day an uncle came along and took me to get ready for this long Atlantic voyage on the ship the Stockholm.
Campolin is an Italian name and originates from Maniago Udine the northern part of Italy. To this day I have family in Rome and in Copenhagen, but somehow the Italian in my blood seems to portray more since when I arrived I had to speak in Danish to my Father who in turn would interpreted into Italian for my mother to understand my needs. Eventually I spoke Italian better then Danish. My marriage to an Italian has helped me retain the language. Walter and I are married 42 years and have two sons married with four grandchildren.
On board the ship my recollection is a bit foggy, I do remember that we were placed under the Captain's protection therefore dined with him at his table daily and had some privileges to roam the ship were the general public was not allowed. This of course aroused the curiosity in my brother who had very scientific mind to explore the ship. Curiosity killed the cat they say and likewise it caused my brother to fall and hit his head. He was taken to the infirmary were medical attention was given. A large bandage was place around my brother's head. This caused quite a stir with medical inspectors upon our arrival in port which the Captain cleared up immediately. I believe we left Copenhagen in and around November 26, 1951 and arrived at Halifax Nova Scotia on December 5, 1951. Just in time for the first celebration of Christmas with my parents.