rom Ireland to Italy With 34th Dimskm Y£Wimsiv

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By Sgt. JOE MCCARTHY. YANK Staff Correspondent

With the Fifth Army in Italy — Most of us were still waiting for our first notice from the draft board on the day that Pfc. Milburn H. Henke of Hutchinson, Minn., walked down the gangplank at Belfast, Northern Ireland, in a 1918 helmet, blouse, necktie, full field pack. Ml, gas mask and canvas leggings, and posed on the dock, smiling, for pictures that later appeared in practically every newspaper in the States. That was Jan. 26, 1942. Henke was the center of all that attention because he was the first American soldier in this war to set foot in the European theater.

Henke is back in the States now, reclassified as limited service, with an excellent combat record in Tunisia where he served as communica- tions sergeant in a rifle company and won the Silver Star. But his old outfit, the 1st Battalion of the 133d Infantry in the veteran 34th (Red Bull) Division,. is still here, finishing its third year overseas and sweating out its third straight winter in the front lines.

Only a few of the original GIs who landed with Henke in Belfast are left now — fewer than 60 out of the whole 'battalion. In Henke's old com- pany (Baker Company) there are seven. They have more overseas time than any other infantrymen in Europe today, because the 1st Battalion arrived in Belfast a couple of weeks ahead of the other early Infantry units in that first American Expeditionary Force. If you showed them the pictures taken on the dock, they would have a hard time recognizing themselves. They have almost forgotten what blouses, neckties, gas masks and canvas leggings look like.

Few, if any, infantrymen in any theater of operations have seen more combat than they have in the last two years. The battalion fought the whole Tunisian campaign, including Hill 609, and it has been in the line in Italy since late September 1943, with only one rest period that lasted more than a month.

You can get some idea of the terrific physical and mental strain of the Italian campaign by comparing the time this battalion has been able to rest in the last 15 months with the time it has spent under fire in the same period.

The' battalion landed at Salerno two weeks after D-Day and took over a sector from the 45th Division on Sept. 27, 1943. Its men did not get a chance to relax from that day until the day after Thanksgiving, when they were relieved by the French and brought back to Castelnuovo for.

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two weeks' rest. During those two months of combat, which included two bloody crossings of the Volturno and the taking of Ashcan Hill at San Mario de Oliveto, they had only one week out of the line — in an area under German artillery fire.

They moved up front on Dec. 11 and stayed there more than two months, during which they made five attempts to cross the Rapido River in bitter winter weather. Then, on Feb. 22. they were pulled out of the Cassino sector and got 21 days off to prepare for a move to Anzio. The battalion landed at Anzio on Mar. 25. It did not get another rest until June 8, soon after the battalion had advanced on Tarquinia, 18 miles ahead of the rest of the Fifth Army, with no Hank protection, and had wiped out a German bicycle battalion.

"We made our first contact with the Germans a little after midnight," says Pfc. John F. Weidler of Wichita Falls, Tex., one of the battalion headquarters men. "By 4 o'clock the next afternoon it was all over. That next night every man in our battalion had a bicycle of his own."

The 1st Battalion was relieved 24 hours later by a battalion of a divi- sion fresh from the States.

"I think that was the only time I ever saw a whole outfit with fixed bayonets," S/Sgt. Ned Levinson of the Bronx. N. Y., says. "There wasn't a German within miles of us. But these guys came up at night in trucks, with every one of them carrying his rifle at port arms and the bayonets fixed on every gun. And not a German within miles. Damnedest sight I ever seen."

A little more than two weeks later, June 25, the battalion was back in the line again at San Vincenzo. Then came the tough battles at Cecina and Mount Maggiore. At the end of July, the battalion went on the first real vacation.' it has enjoyed in Italy — six weeks at a beach resort on the Mediterranean coast below Leghorn.

On Sept, 10, the battalion moved north from Florence and plunged into hard fighting over the most difficult terrain the men have been up against overseas. Slugging their way up the steep ridges of the Gothic Line, they found an enemy who was resisting as strongly as he did at Cassino and Anzio. They had six days out of the line at the end of the month. Then they went back for six more weeks. Early in November, when the advance had slowed to a stop in the rain and mud before Bologna, the battalion hiked out of the mountains at night, climbed into trucks and drove to a rest town west of Florence for 10 days.

When you figure it out, the battalion has had about 16 weeks of rest in the last 15 months.

Adding this long stretch of Italian combat to the battalion's time on the Tunisian front, you get something around 350 days of line service. And 76 Bronze Stars, 64 Silver Stars, nine Legions of Merit and 17 Dis-

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tinguished Service Crosses. (When the Fifth Army announced on the first anniversary of Salerno that it had awarded 201 DSCs, the bat- talion had 16 of them.) The battalion also has one Medal of Honor, awarded posthumously to Pvt. Robert D. Booker of Callaway, Nebr., killed Apr 9, 1943, at Fondouk while attacking single- handedly two enemy machine guns and a mortar position across 200 yards of open ground.

The 34th Division was an Iowa-Minnesota-Da- kota National Guard outfit when it went into active duty at Camp Claiborne, La., in February 1941. Later that year, while the Army was still wearing dark-blue fatigues and old shallow hel- mets of the first World War. the 34th was stream- lined from a four-regiment square division to a three-regiment triangular one. The Dakota regi- ment, the 164th Infantry, was lopped off and sent first to the West Coast and then to the South Pa- cific, where it later became famous at Guadal- canal and Bougainville as a part of the Americal Division. That left the 34th almost exclusively a division of soldiers from Iowa and Minnesota. Two of the regiments, the 133d and the 168th In- fantries, were Iowa National Guard outfits. The other regiment, the 135th Infantry, was from Minnesota. Two of the divisional artillery bat- talions were from Minnesota, the other from Iowa.

In the 1st Battalion of the 133d, A Company was a National Guard unit from Dubuque and most of the boys in Baker and Dog Companies were from Waterloo. Charlie Company was com- posed of men from Cedar Rapids. After they moved away from home to start their training at Claiborne, these National Guardsmen began to worry about the Selective Service System. They were afraid it might send them a lot of draftees from the East or South who would make the bat- talion lose its Hawkeye flavor. Their fears were groundless. More than 75 percent of the draftees assigned to the battalion were from Iowa.

The battalion was still an Iowa outfit in Ire- land, in North Africa and in Italy until it moved into the Cassino sector. Then it began to change. The familiar Iowa faces of the original National Guardsmen and the early draftees started to dis- appear. A lot of them were killed; others, with what the boys enviously called "million-dollar wounds," didn't come back from the hospital. When the battalion embarked for Anzio, it was almost a new outfit. And later when it pushed north from Rome, most of the remaining old men went home to Iowa on rotation or TD.

The few GIs left now who have been with the battalion since the beginning are mostly clerks, cooks, truck drivers and cannon-company men — the soldiers in the Infantry who get the low priority on rotation because, compared with the riflemen and machine gunners, they have a some- what lower priority on death. But most of the cooks, truck drivers and cannon-company men in this battalion have Purple Hearts. When it gets i ough. they work up forward as litter-bearers.

Probably because rotation and TD are worked on an alphabetical basis, most of the remaining "Jan. 26" men in the battalion seem to have last names beginning with "S'* or letters farther on. There is. for instance, S/Sgt. Everall Schonbrich of Casey, Iowa, from the Dog Company mortar platoon: S/Sgt. Jerry Snoble of Hazleton, Iowa, supply sergeant of Charlie Company who served in a rifle platoon until he was wounded in Tunisia; S/Sgt. Stanley Setka of Riceville, Iowa, an antitank squad leader, and T-5 Raymond E. Sonksen of Grundy Center, Iowa, acting mess sergeant in Baker Company. There were 22 men from Grundy Center in Baker Company back at Claiborne. Sonksen is the only one left

And only two of the Waterloo men who formed almost two full companies of the original Na- tional Guard battalion are still here. They are S Sgt. Max Shepherd, whose father, Maj. Lloyd H. Shepherd., used to be battalion commander, and Pvt. Ralph Loy, a character who has one more of those important combat stars on his theater ribbon than anybody else in the battalion. Loy was transferred to the 3d Division after Tunisia, went through the Sicilian campaign and then managed to get back into his old Iowa bat- talion when it was leaving for Italy. "The ad- jutant fixed me up," he says. "He and I were old friends. He court-martialed me once in Ireland."

Although the battalion is now composed of sol- diers from practically every state in the Union, :he old Iowa men still have a great pride in their outfit. They will argue for hours to prove that iheir battalion entered a certain town last July three hours ahead of one of the other 133d In-

fantry battalions. They are still sore because the recent official Fifth Army account of the advance to Rome gives the 1st Special Service Force credit for taking Highway 7 and the railroad line during the break-through from Anzio. "We passed through the Special Service Force there on the night of May 24 and attacked the next morning," they say. "Charlie Company did most of the job and cleaned it up in two hours."

Just as they think their battalion is the best in the regiment, they also consider the I33d the best regiment in the division. They have a deep respect for the 3d and the 45th Divisions, which shared their hardships in Italy before moving on to southern France, but they don't feel that any other division can quite measure up to the 34th.

In a rest town recently, one of their officers noticed a GI, loaded with cognac, passing out on the street in front of his CP. He asked a couple of his men to pick up the soldier and put him under cover. When they started to lift him from the sidewalk, one of them noticed that he was wearing the shoulder patch of another division. Without a moment's hesitation, they dropped him back on the sidewalk and Walked away, dusting their hands. It took the officer quite a while to convince them it was their duty to take care of the drunk, even if he wasn't in the 34th. .

This pride in the outfit and the personal pride of each man, who knows the silent contempt that veteran GIs feel for men who turn into stragglers or AWOLs without good reason, keep the battalion going at times when the demands made upon it seem to be more than a human be- ing can take. Those demands are made often here.

When you talk with the men in the battalion about the war in Italy and ask them why it has been so slow and tough, they give you straight and simple answers that make more sense than most of the profound comments that military experts have written on the subject.

"Listen," they say, "the Jerry has got all that stuff piled up here. He can't take it with him and he doesn't want to leave it for us. So he is staying here until he uses it up, just like any smart guy would do. You can tell that's the way he's thinking from the amount of artillery he's throwing at us. It's as bad as Anzio."

They feel that GIs in the rear echelon and the people at home do not understand the numbers of Germans they are facing. "This may be a for- gotten front and all that," they say, "but we had 10 battalions against our division last month. It may be forgotten by us but it's not forgotten by the Germans. We captured a Jerry pay roll that showed a division with a strength of 10,300 men."

The terrain? "Miles on the map here don't mean anything. You may be told to advance to a point three miles away. But by the time you get there, up and down ridges and around chasms, zig- zagging up the sides of mountains, you'll have covered eight or nine miles. The squad on your right may be within talking distance. But there is a canyon dropping down between you and them. If you want to get to them, you have to walk a half mile to the rear and a half mile forward again on their side of the canyon. We heard about a captain — a company commander in the 168th — who covered 72 miles on pay day, paying off his men, without going outside his company area."

Despite the ample German supplies and men and the difficult terrain on the Fifth Army front, the GIs in the battalion think the Allies could have been more successful here if they had been able to attack the Gothic Line in greater depth. 'That's been our trouble ever since we've been in Italy," they say. "When we take a position or make a break-through, we never seem to have enough fresh troops behind us to really make something out of the gain. We have to stop, and there's nobody to follow up and keep pushing."

The older men in the battalion and the veteran officers, like Capt. Richard Wilkinson of Toano, Va., who missed only 15 days of Charlie Com- pany's combat until he was transferred recently to battalion headquarters, have seen a lot of changes in Army methods — mostly for the better, they say — in their two years of action.

All the men in the battalion say they are eating much better food now than they had earlier in the Italian campaign and in Tunisia. "The 10- in-one rations are damned good," Sonksen says. "We're getting fresh meat and bread more often. Back in Tunisia we used to go without bread for weeks. The boys had it so seldom that when they did get it they used to eat it for dessert, like cake. Somebody ought to tell somebody to give us more

coffee and lay off the bouillon and lemon powiWrJ .and cocoa. And speaking of coffee, the Coleman - stove is one of the great inventions of the war.**

"The Coleman stove, the jeep and the Bailey • Bridge," Shepherd says, "are winning trie war. f Guys with Colemans would rather move up with- \ out helmets than leave their stoves behind. We carry them in Jerry gas-mask containers. They don't make much light, either, once they get started. A hot breakfast in the morning makes all the difference in the world."

When you mention clothing, the GIs in the battalion think first of shoes and socks, the most important items in the Infantry's wardrobe. They don't know why the Army didn't give them com- bat boots back in 1941 instead of service shoes and leggings. They don't have a high opinion of the combat shoe with the rough side of the leath- er on the outside. It doesn't shed water as well as the smooth -finished boot and it takes longer to dry. They are not satisfied with the shoepac, the new type of winter boot with a rubber foot and waterproof black-leather top.

"It's a step in the right direction," Weidler says. "It's an attempt to keep the feet dry, and that's the only way to beat trenchfoot. But the shoepac gives the foot no support. If you walk' a long distance in them, they kill you."

Everybody likes the issue woolen sweater, but prefers last wintec's combat jacket with the zipper front and the high woolen collar and cuffs to the new green hip-length jacket. 'The new jacket is not bad," one GI says, "but it acts like a shelter half in the rain. If you rub against one spot inside too much, the water comes through."

Nobody wants any part of the new sleeping bag with the zipper that pulls up from the feet to the chin. "It may be fine for the Air Forces," one of the BAR men says, "but I wouldn't get into one of those things in the line if you paid me. Suppose a Kraut found me with my arms and legs all zippered up. like I was in a strait jacket?"

The battalion has not noticed much change for the better or worse in their weapons or ammuni- tion in the two years they have been in combat. Some of the men would like lighter weapons with more fire power; others would prefer more heavy weapons, like the BAR. They still envy the German smokeless powder as they did in Tunisia. They like the German light machine gun better than ours and they think the German machine pistol is a better weapon than our tommy gua

They won't always admit it, but you can teli from talking to them that the men in the bat- talion get a deep satisfaction from knowing their job is the toughest one in the Army. They know that, if they come through the war safely, their own part in it will be something they will be able to look back on with pride for the rest of their lives. They know that it will be a good feeling to say at a gathering of veterans years from now: "I was with the 34th Division in Tunisia and Italy — 1st Battalion of the One-Three-Three."

But that is something in the remote future. Right now they are tired, and their attitude toward the fate that put them in the Infantry, in the snow of the Apennine Mountains, in- stead of in some softer branch of the service, is one of resignation. They are accepting it, trying to make the best of it and trying to tell them- selves that it could have been worse. One of the men in the battalion, describing the ordeal he had been through recently at Cecina, ended up: "I think we were the fi'st ones to get into the town itself. Anyway, we were pulled out of there for a couple of days on July 3. On the Fourth of July we had a hot holiday meal."

Then he thought for a moment and added: "You know, that's one thing about this outfit. We've had it tough all along but, somehow or other, we've always managed to hit some place on holidays where we can have a hot meal. Christmas of 1942 we were on the boat in Liver- pool, waiting to push off for North Africa. On the Fourth of July in 1943, we were back in a rest area after the Tunisian campaign. Thanksgiving Day in 1943 we had just finished the fighting at Ashcan Hill, but we had a turkey dinner right there on the side of the hill. It was raining and the Germans were shelling us, but we didn't give a damn — we had the turkey."

He smiled and shook his head. "Maybe you better not print that," he said. "Somebody at di- vision headquarters may read it and say: Those guys have had it too good. We'll see that they spend their next five Thanksgivings and Christ- mases in the line eating K rations.' "

YANK, Tht Army Wookly, publication issued weehfy by Branch Office, Information A Education Division. Wat Deportment, 205 [ait 42d SliMI. New York 17, N. Y. Reproduction riant, restricted at indkatoj ht tin mouheod on the editorial poae. Entered at second clou matter July i, 1942, at the Past Office at Mew York, N. Y , under trie Act or March 3, 1*79 Subscription price $3.00 yearly Printed in the II. i. *■

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Original from UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

By Sgt. JOHN MORAN YANK Field Correspondent

H celand- — When the first soldiers landed here at I the request of the Icelandic Government in the B summer of 1941, they were surprised to find a country with little more December snowfall than New Jersey and only two months of the year yielding weather cold enough for ice skating. The chilly sound of the name Iceland was proved at least partly incorrect: only the permanent glaciers of the interior lived up to expectations.

The first letters from home reflected the same pupular view of the new base area. Wive.;, moth- ers and sweethearts asked for such souvenirs as caged live polar bears and walruses. They thought the GIs were living among Eskimos in igloos, in the kind of Arctic desolation they had seen in Adm. Byrd's South Pole movies.

Since those early days, the soldiers and — through their letters home — some U. S. civilians have obtained a new and more accurate picture of the tiny island republic. They know now that Eskimos, igloos, polar bears and walruses are as foreign to Icelanders as they are to the residents of Dubuque. Iowa, or Schenectady. N. Y. Icelandic . civilization is one of the oldest in the western world and one of the most highly developed. Ice- land has no slums, no poverty, no unemployment, no illiteracy, no capital punishment and, with a few scraggly exceptions, no trees.

There aren't a great many Icelanders — approxi- mately 120,000, or about as many people as in Little Rock, Ark. — and the sudden influx of Amer- ican soldiers caused marked reactions in almost every phase of Iceland's economy. The tremen- dous GI pay roll put more currency into circula- tion than the nation had ever seen, resulting in an immediate skyward climb of prices. Two native products, milk and butter, today cost more than three times what they did in 1940. U. S. cigarettes sell for three kronur (about 45 cents) a pack.

Despite this domestic upheaval. Icelandic-GI relations — a bit on the cautious side at first — have become decidedly friendly. Many soldiers are reg- ular visitors at Icelandic homes and a few have even learned the language — no easy feat for Americans because of the different alphabet and the tricky pronunciation of Icelandic words. The

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Icelanders have done better with English than we have with Icelandic. Many children 9 and 10 years old not only speak English fluently but do pretty well with American slang, too.

GI marriages with the Icelandic women served to make friendships between Yanks and Iceland- ers even more cordial. There was an Army ban on these marriages until last spring, but since its re- laxation some 75 GIs have taken local wives.

Ai first many soldiers lived in tents for lack of Nissen huts. The tents were OK in summer but gave little protection against sudden winter gales.

The Army training program here is thorough but limited by the rugged, barren terrain and the abnormally long winter nights (which last about 20 hours of the 24) . There are plenty of work de-

tails for all personnel, but the outpost sentinels have probably the most difficult assignment of all. They are separated from their units for months at a time and remain on the alert day and night.

Social life for soldiers outside camp is limited by the small size of nearby Icelandic towns— when nearby towns exist at all. A popular activity is visiting coffee shops to enjoy the delicious pastry and cream cake. Restaurants serve familiar food, for Icelandic kitchen tradition is much the same as American. Icelandic beer is too weak for most GIs and isn't liked by most Icelanders either.

Although there are sightseeing trips, GI dances, soldier shows, pony riding (Iceland has no full- size horses) and fishing, many of the GIs prefer riding hobbies. One favorite pastime is collecting pin-ups: the men in a single hut boast 600 photos on the walls. Other Yanks make lamps from old shell casings, study correspondence courses and amuse themselves with their own broadcasting network. (A Special Service phonograph, a stack of records and home-made loudspeakers in each Nissen hut provide one camp with music.)

But the most popular hobby is watching the girls go by in town. The blond, blue-eyed Ice- landic women are among the most beautiful in the world. That's the GI consensus and the opinion of Marlene Dietrich, no dog herself, who recently performed for soldier audiences here.

■ celand is a neutral nation, without army or navy I of its own, but the Germans ignore this. Last November a German submarine torpedoed and sank the Godafoss, Iceland's largest passenger ship. All but two of its passengers lost their lives.

If the Germans had occupied Iceland, the Luft- waffe would have been based within easy reach of Greenland, Newfoundland and eastern Canada. In the U. S., New York City and other large indus- trial areas along our own northeastern seaboard would have been within the radius of possible enemy air attack. Allied shipping to Britain and northward to Murmansk in Russia might have been cut off completely. Our great landings in Normandy would almost certainly have been de- layed for months — or years.

Although Iceland is not a member of the United Nations, her people give warm support to the Al- lied cause because of the closer Icelandic-Ameri- can and Icelandic-British relations developed in recent years and the kinship between Icelanders and the people of the Scandinavian countries now overrun by the Germans. (Almost all Icelanders are of Scandinavian ancestry.)

Following the torpedoing of the Godafoss, one uf Reykjavik's daily newspapers declared: 'There will be no peace and securityon earth until these butchers (the Nazis) and their creed of Fascism are completely eliminated and until assurance is given that such barbarism may never again rise in the world."

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Two young Icelandic girls (stulkas), dressed in native costume, walk beside a lake in downtown Reykjavik

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Original from

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YANK The Army Weekly • FEB. 2, 1945

Yanks at Home Abroad

Last Laugh

Leyte, the Philippines — Pan of war has always ■ been the exchange of conversation and dirty cracks between soldiers on opposite sides of the line, and that goes out here. foo.

Usually the American GIs come off first in the snappy-dialogue department, possibly because they're dealing with their native tongue. But there is one Yank here who was bested in a brief verbal exchange, although the Jap died very soon afterward.

The Yank had the Jap cornered in a hole and courteously advanced the suggestion that In- come the hell out and surrender

The Jap had apparently met Americans before, because just before he died he shouted these im- perishable words: "Come and get me. you sou- venir-hunting son of a bitch!" bill aicine

YANK Staff Co-re.pond.nt

HAPPY SHIPPER. Deris Perkins. 21. an SK3c ef Baton Rouge, la., was one of the first bunch of Waves to 90 .overseas. Here she is with her bag, am U. S. West Coast

Russian Reception

Somewhere in the U. S. S. R. — When the crew of a B-24 on a routine bomb run from Italy brought its flak-damaged plane into a field just behind the Russian lines, they got a reception equal to a Fifth Avenue victory march in every- thing but ticker tape.

As soon as the Liberator hit the field, an unoffi- cial welcoming committee rushed out to greet it. And the committee was really international.

"There was a Czechoslovakian colonel and a group of Russian fighter pilots, male and female," says Sgt. E. J. Rostedt, a turret man from Brook- lyn. Conn. 'There were mechanics, too, and civilian maintenance men, speaking Russian, Hungarian, Czech and a dozen other languages. But no English."

When the first excitement died down, the American crew members used sign language to show that they were hungry. Their enthusiastic hosts rushed them to a dining room and gave them a traditional Russian stuffing. They had shehee (cabbage soup), steak, potatoes, tea. bread, butter and cake. For most of the GIs it was the first steak since' leaving the States. The Russians here eat big meals like this four times a day.

Highlight of the American visit at the front- line base was a trip to the theater. The play was an American farce produced in Polish, titled "A Day Without a Lie." Bob Hope once made a movie of it under the original title, "Nothing but the Truth." It concerns a stockbroker who tries to stay honest for 24 hours.

Sgt. C. Mayo of Vineland, N. J., the tail gunner, says: "It made it more than ever a cockeyed world. You go halfway around it and see a play you might find in your own home town, and all within hearing distance of Red Army cannon fir-

ing into German positions on the Eastern Front."

The flyers got front-row seats in the packed theater and attracted more attention than the play. When the curtain rang down on the first act, the audience refused to curb its enthusiasm any longer and burst out with cheers for the Americans. Someone played the spotlights on the Yanks, and autograph hunters pushed note- books at them for signatures.

Everybody had questions to ask: What was America like? When would the Germans collapse on the Western Front? What kind of plane were the Americans flying?

One young blonde nestled close to Sgt. Mark M. Harwood of Moorefield, W. Va.. and tried out her English in what were obviously the only words she knew. She said: "My heart belongs to you, Daaaddy."

The crewmen left the scene of their Russian welcome when an American airbase deeper in the V. S. S. R. sent a C-47 to pick them up. Now they're back in the Army, waiting for further orders.

-lot. SAMUEL CHAVKIN YANK Field Correspondent

On the Fly Front

Egypt — It's no news that there are two ways of doing things — the right way and" the Army way. But when the Army way turns out to be right, that's news. It was bound to happen even- tually, and the first break in a long succession of bumbles occurred over here in the Middle East.

With the war long since removed to distant regions, the most irritating problem at Camp Huckstep, Cairo's big U. S. Army post, turned out to be that old desert companion, the common fly. Egyptian flies have the adhesive properties of Arab rug peddlers and reproductive powers that put rabbits to shame.

Flies covered Camp Huckstep until a post order was issued requiring every officer and EM to kill 30 flies a day.

What gives this story its unusual twist is that the order worked. There are now few flies at Camp Huckstep. $ai. buhtt evans

TANK Staff Correspondent

Chop It Down

Somewhere in France — You know these men belong to a special outfit when you come upon them at work. They wear the first high black boots you've seen in the U. S. Army and they don't talk your language. They speak of swamping and limbing, of chokers and jammers, of timber cruisers and slab piles and of a myste- rious Biltmore stick. They are members of an Engineer Forestry outfit.

It's a GI outfit though — but with axes and peavies and saws instead of rifles and mortars and grenades. It's one of the few Engineer For- estry outfits in France and part of one of the most widely scattered battalions in the A'my.

Hidden away in the deepest forest preserves of France, these black - booted muscle men are almost unknown to their fellow soldiers, but they produce stuff that is es- sential to keeping tanks and doughfeet moving forward. Lumber, timber, pilings and railway ties — all are needed to build bridges, roads, docks and railways for a mobile army. The portable saw- mills that turn out this high - priority merchan- dise are equipped to work 24 hours a day.

The outfit Is really two companies, working as a team. One, commanded by Capt. Winton Ber- nardin, is headquarters company for the only En-

This Week's Cover

"j^ME American rifloman

in Aochen. t. Ralph J. Do Franco of Pittsburgh, Pa. At the moment o Stgnol Corpj photographer mode thii picture, Oe Franco wot trying to got in a shot at o German sniper who'd been oe-ling aw. y at the Yanks.

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gineer Forestry battalion in ' the Army. The three companies it is supposed to administer, however, are scattered between India and the South Pacific. The other half of the team is a separate forestry company, not part of the origi- nal battalion, but trained by it in the U. S. It* CO is Lt. Maurice Reeves and his men are thi real loggers and sawmill operators.

The men come from every walk of life. There are farmers and gandy dancers, salesmen and professors. S/Sgt. Al Rabip. a mill foreman, was assistant shoe buyer in a Milwaukee, (Wis.t de- partment store. Now he bosses doggers, setters, sawyers, off-bearers and cut-off men with as much ease as he used to size up a pair of 84-Ds.

Cpl. Harold J. Liesh is a saw filer now. but he used to operate a linotype for a newspaper in St. Paul. Minn. His biggest present worry is shrapnel — from the last war. Most of the logs he uses, taken from a French depot, contain imbedded shrapnel, which plays hell with the dogs (or teeth) of his saws.

S/Sgt. Joseph A. Hager of Los Angeles, Calif- was born in Germany. He sums up the immediate goal of the forestry outfit pretty well.

"That Black Forest in Germany." he says, "that's where I want to go. Most beautiful forest in the world. The Germans love that forest more than anything in the world. Chop the bastard down." —YANK Field (

Pillbox Penthouse

Germany — German pillboxes are so cleverly concealed in this area that sometimes it is almost impossible to find them in the heat of battle. During the push toward the high ground over the Roer River, one company Of the 405th Infantry radioed back to the CP that some of its men were apparently dug in on top of the same pillbox that the company on the right was trying to eliminate. EAtt ANDERSON

YANK Staff Corresponded

P*Gf 6

Di<

Members of an Engineer Forestry outfit in France keep lumber on the move

Original from

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

Don't Split Up

Mv choice is the VFW. To join this organiza- tion you must have had service outside the continental limits of the U.S. The boys who go across know what it is to leave a great country and to come back to it. The VFW has been lobby- ing in Congress for the GIs of this war. It has helped such bills as the GI Bill of Rights and many others. Men are being trained by VFW posts to help GIs when they are discharged. If you want a farm loan or plan to go to school, this VFW counselor will help cut red tape and put you on the right track.

If the GIs of this war split up into two or three veterans' organizations, we wouldn't be strong. United we stand, divided we fall.

USS Posco —DANIEL J. SCARRY SK2i

Enlisted Men Only

I am very much in favor of having another organization, but it should be restricted to en- listed men only.

Every club or place we see over here is posted. Clubs, bars and dance halls are off limits to en- listed men. They have signs posted which read: "officers only." So, when we come back home, why not continue in the same way? It has proven very successful over here. »

I and my friends feel that we enlisted men can set up our own organization, hold our national and district conventions, and have a sufficient number of members to make it one of the best organizations the world has known.

Sonwpor, N.w Gu.n.o -Cpl. F. E. M OR RE Li."

THE SOLDIER SPEAKS:

Should the GIs of this war have a veterans7 organization of their own?

A United Bulwark

■ike many GIs, there are things about existing L veterans' organizations that I don't like. But that does not mean that I think we should form veterans' organizations of our own.

Forming separate veterans' organizations means division among us Americans. I am against divi- sion. I am for unity. After this war we will need unity for continued peace more than we now need unity for victory. The 12 million veterans of this war, those of us who actually experienced war, together with the millions of the last war, our fathers and brothers who also tasted war, united can form the strongest bulwark against war for generations.

DoMwrt AAA, h* -Set. CARL DORIO

Change of Mind

Some time ago I thought we should form our own GI organization, but since then it has been my good fortune to meet members of the American Legion. I enjoyed their company and met many of their Legion friends at dances and parties at the Legion clubhouse in a large city in the U. S. I met many whose sons were in the ser- vice and also many other servicemen, guests at this Legion post.

It started me thinking that all through the country Legion posts are organized. There are Legion men in this war. Legion men watch legis- lation pertaining to veterans in Washington and on down through state legislatures.

I know we want to be independent and run our own organization, but why not benefit by the greatest teacher, experience, and use the resources and facilities of the American Legion? There will be some way by which we may have representa- tion in our own posts, state Legion affairs and national Legion policy. Dads of many servicemen will be glad their sons will inherit the Legion. For these reasons, I am in. favor of joining this organized and experienced group.

Lvxnnbourg -S/S9I. I. J. O CONNELl

Have One Already

The GIs of this, war already have a veterans' organization of their own. namely, the Ameri- can Veterans' Committee. According to the tem- porary chairman of this group, Charles Bolte, an ex-serviceman who lost a leg in the North. Afri- can campaign, one thousand servicemen and wo- men are buying his magazine.

GIs of this war are going through common ex- periences as soldiers quite different from former soldiers of other wars. This is a war of greater intensity and ferocity. Out of common experiences emerge common desires.

The soldier of this war knows that in any event he will be organized in some way. whether he likes it or not. He knows that military victory does not bring peace with it. nor does peace bring jobs or freedom necessarily. It is for these rea- sons that the AVC or something similar will be established for the ex-servicemen and women of World War IT

Uyte, rmppbm -S/Sgt. DANIEL RICH

Post-War Program

The GIs o( this war should have an organization of their own.

If the millions who have united to win the war unite to win the peace, they can reduce the chances of the little people of the world ever having to kill each other again. They can lead the way to a better world and salvage from the liabilities of this war the assets of peace.

A post-war program must include increased trade among nations; a better understanding of each other's problems, with fair discussion and consideration of them whether the nations in- volved be large or small; free, uncensored ex- change of news between nations; liquidation of the fascist mind and philosophy wherever it arises, at home or abroad; strict policing to keep, the- peace. What servicemen's organization has that program?

Bclgww -T/Sgt. IVAN SMITH

A Different War

Yes. The problems, attitudes, ideas and needs of World War II soldiers are different from those of World War I veterans. We fight a global war. They fought only in France. We have many times their numbers. We have been longer over- seas under conditions which they never faced.

Our veterans' organization should encompass all grades, branches, services — both' men and wo- men—which have participated in this World War II. Our organization should look out for and pro- tect the interest of veterans of this war, but it should be equally concerned with the welfare of all the people of America, and it should work constantly to prevent our children from becoming members of a veterans' organization of World War III.

Ntlhtrlandl Eoit lndi»% -S Sg» GABE SANDERS

Great Potentials

This war will have over 10 million veterans. It is inconceivable that existing organizations like the VFW or the American Legion can absorb the bulk of these new veterans and still serve the interests of the men for whom they were origi- nally formed.

Veterans of this war will have little in common with men 20 or more years older who fought in vastly different conflicts.

We will have a new organization. It will be potentially the most powerful pressure group in history. It can be the biggest convention-holding, whisky-drinking, time-wasting society ever formed.

Or it can be a tool for winning the peace our buddies died fighting for.

India -Cpl. R. W. OMRO

THIS page of GI opinion on important issues of the day is a regular feature of YANK. A question for future discussion will be "What Causes War Between Na- tions and What Can Be Done To Prevent It?" If you have any ideas on this subject send them to The Soldier Speaks Depart- ment, YANK, The Army Weekly, 205 East 42d Street, New York 17, N. Y. We will allow you time to get answers here from overseas by mail. The best letters received will be printed in a future issue.

.- • Origir

PlIVERSITV

A " ♦ • ^ -

By Sgt. GEORG N. MEYERS YANK Staff Writer

Show people will never forget the year 1944. Thousands of men and women from the legitimate theater were overseas in uniform — actors and actresses, writers, scene designers, stage hands — and all looked back in wonderment at what war had done to their business. And well they might, because those remaining at work behind the footlights have hoisted stage plays to their greatest height of popularity since the movies started talking.

Letters and newspapers from home told the story. On Broadway even bad shows were pack- ing 'em in. And on Main Streets from Butte, Mont., to Baton Rouge, La., war workers and farmers — the families of servicemen everywhere — were seeing their first stage shows in the old home town since the opry house was boarded up and bequeathed to the barn swallows.

Bob Francis, legit editor of the BtUbourd, got down to cases with a comparative study of two wartime years, 1918 and 1944, and discovered that times do not change. During the 1943-44 season on Broadway there were 41 comedies, 30 straight dramas, 25 musicals, four melodramas, one farce, three spectacles and two variety shows. Seventeen of the straight dramas and five of the musical shows had a war slant. Now check this line-up against that of 1918-19 when there were 41 comedies, 31 straight dramas, 26 musicals, 12 melodramas, five farces and four spectacles. Fif- teen dramas and nine musicals had war plots.

Everybody expected the New York theater to piclTup during the war, on the basis of what hap- pened in 1917-18, but probably even the most optimistic producers didn't dare hope that in one year 90 road companies would be playing to standees in reconverted movie houses, Odd Fel- lows Halls, civic centers and high-school audi- toriums from one end of the country to the other. During 1944 there was an average of 35 com- panies on the road every week, with everything from "Abie's Irish Rose" and "Tobacco Road" to "The Merry Widow" and Katherine Dunham's "Tropical Revue." The show that probably more towns saw than any other was the cqrnedy "Kiss and Tell." At one time there were three "Kiss" companies on the road besides the one that has been in New York nearly two years.

Many shows played split weeks and one-night stands in such houses as the Coliseum in Sioux Falls, S. Dak.: the Convention Hall in Enid, Okla.; the Lyceum in Minneapolis, Minn.; the Orpheum in Sioux City, Iowa; the State in Winston-Salem. N. C; the Union High School Auditorium in Salinas, Calif.; the Capitol in Yakima, Wash.; the Fargo in Fargo, N. Dak.; the Chief in Colorado Springs, Colo.; and the University of Wyoming Auditorium in Laramie, Wyo.

There are easier ways to make a living in these times than by going on tour. But travel troubles notwithstanding, Chicago had 32 shows in nine theaters in the 1943-44 season. Their combined runs totaled 280 weeks, a 10-year recorQ for Chi- cago. Philadelphia had three houses running most of the year; they didn't even take a break during Lent. In Minneapolis, Lee Murray booked 1 1 touring shows into the Lyceum Theater in an eight-month season:

A typical touring troupe was the "Coast" com- pany of "Kiss and Tell." The cast traveled 14,768 miles in 35 weeks and played an average of more than one performance per day. The trip covered 20 states. Often- the performers lost track of where they were. Actress Mary Jackson said she would wake up in the morning and pick up the

telephone book .in her hotel room to find out what town she was in.

Most of the time the company made out all right with hotel accom- modations. In Minneapo- lis their hotel caught fire, but nobody got hurt. They spent some of their nights on sleepers and once, go- ing from Fresno to Sac- ramento, Calif., they had to stand all night in the aisles of a coach. Some- times they would get up in the morning after a night in a Pullman, play a matinee and night per- formance, then crawl back into the same Pullman bunks and ride all night again.

The company, includ- ing cast, understudies, stage hands and property people, totaled 27 persons and a dog. It wasn't al- ways the same dog. Be- fore curtain time every night the question would go around: "Have we got a dog yet?" Usually the assistant stage manager

would borrow a pup from a local kid. The role of Marchbanks was played by dachshunds, poodles, terriers and airedales, always unrehearsed.

In St. Paul, Minn., the actors competed for laughs with a sparrow that flew around over the stage and audience. In Milwaukee, Wis., the foot- lights awakened a resident bat that swooped down from the backstage rafters and stole the show.

The company missed only one scheduled per- formance; after riding through a flood all day on the way to Oklahoma City, they missed their matinee. Another time they arrived late at the Corn Palace in Mitchell, S. Dak. To keep the audience amused, they left the curtain up while the stage was being set. It took 90 minutes, and the audience made the stage hands take a curtain call before the first act started.

Dressing rooms ranged from a cubicle where your head was in the steam pipes to luxurious suites in the Kansas City Music Hall. At one the- ater the only way you Could get from one side of the set to the other backstage was to go down in the basement to an outside door, run around the building and come in another door.

Although the "road" played to socko business, the "straw-hat" or summer-theater groups that blossom annually in the countrysides, especially in New England, were hard hit. Gas rationing and overcrowded trains and busses were respon- sible. About the only 1944 summer theaters that broke even were those that were close to big cities or that moved into the cities. The Bucks County Playhouse, for instance, nailed up its doors and moved into the Bellevue-Stratford Hotel ballroom in Philadelphia.

Nonprofessional "little theaters" from coast to coast have felt the pinch of war. Before the war, many towns depended on college or community little theaters for their only taste of flesh-and- blood drama. Well-established noncommercial groups like the Pasadena Community Playhouse in Pasadena, Calif., the University of Washing- ton's Showboat and Penthouse Theaters in Seattle, and the College of the Pacific Little

Joan McCracken— from smosh hit "Oklahoma!" to smash hit "Bloomer Girl.'

Theatre in Stockton, Calif., have held on in spite of the shortage of males for casting and the com- petition from commercial road companies.

The manpower bugaboo put some crimps in the professional theater, too. The armed forces had more than 1,150 members from the New York roster of Actors' Equity alone. "We lived in a cross-fire between the draft board and Hol- lywood." says Broadway producer Brock Pem- berton, speaking of his road company of "Janie," a play calling for several young men of military age. "Every time we'd get some man who was doing well in a part, the Army would grab him or Hollywood .would like his looks and steal him." Hollywood has a manpower problem, too.

One young man "stolen" from Pemberton's "Janie," which is no longer touring, is a perfect example of a struggling player reaching stardom because of the manpower shortage. His name is Alfred Alderdice, but you may have seen him in the movies under the name of Tom Drake. There are many others getting breaks they might i have gotten otherwise because they're physical induction standards.

On the other hand, the war-stimulated theater has been a boon to some old-timers who clung to show business through its lean years. The best example is Frank Fay, whose long career is al- most a personification of the stage's history since the last war — more down than up. Fay is now at the peak of popularity in "Harvey," a comedy about a timid fellow who pals around with a rab- bit that isn't there. (Harvey is the rabbit's name.) Fay's performance is ranked with those of Leo G. Carroll in "The Late George Apley" and Fredric March in "A Bell for Adano" as the best acting of the year.

Finding material worth producing has been neat a trick as finding somebody to play in with men like WO Irwin Shaw and Pvt. Wil- liam Saroyan overseas and" several other top- drawer writers in the service. The lack of mate- rial was reflected during the 1943-44 season by

the decision of the New York Drama Critics Circle that no play of American authorship was worthy of its annual award. For the same reason the Pulitzer Prize committee omitted its drama award and instead gave a special prize to Rich- ard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein 2d for their musical show, "Oklahoma!"

'Oklahoma!" which has been a smash hit since it opened nearly two years ago, popularized the introduction of ballet in otherwise standard mu- sical shows. Other musicals with ballet sequences playing on Broadway by the end of 1944 were "One Touch of Venus," "Carmen Jones," "Follow the Girls," "Bloomer Girl," "Sadie Thompson," "Seven Lively Arts" and "On the Town."

Only two serious war plays really caught the public's fancy — "The Eve of St. Mark," Max- well Anderson's drama of two seasons ago about a' doomed platoon in the Pacific, and Paul Os- born's recent dramatization of "A Bell for Adano," the novel by war correspondent John .Hersey about the American Military Government in a Sicilian village. Other war plays came and faltered, partly because they were full of guff about the Army and Navy which audiences knew was phony. Notable exceptions were Moss Hart's "Winged Victory" and Irving Berlin's world- touring "This Is the Army," both with soldier casts for Army Emergency Relief.

The .best comedy about a soldier is not really a war play. It is "The Voice of the Turtle," whose cast has just three persons — Betty Field (who re- placed Margaret Sulla van). Elliott Nugent and Audrey Christie. It covers the adventures of a GI stood up by his date on a week-end pass.

In Boston, ■ where the novels "Strange Fruit" and "Forever Amber" were banned, the censor previewed "Men to the Sea," a play about Navy wives in a Brooklyn rooming house. He called the story "unedifying and apart from the truth" and ordered 80 cuts in the dialogue or no show. The play then did sell-out business in Boston. But when it came to New York, even with all of its lines restored, it lasted only 24 performances.

Show people usually figure that if a play or musical sticks out 100 performances on Broad- way, it is enough of a hit to make money. From May 1, 1943, to Apr. 30, 1944, New York had 64 new shows. Only 19 of these survived the 100- performance mark. They made money; 45 did not.

In spite of all the hazards, Broadway's .biggest problem — finding an "angel" to back a play — has almost evaporated. It seemed as if everybody wanted to put some money into a Broadway show, and no wonder.

"Life With Father," now in its sixth year on Broadway, has grossed almost $8 million from its New York and road companies. More than two million people have seen it in New York and an- other three million have seen the touring casts. When "Arsenic and Old Lace" closed last June

after 1,440 Broadway performances, the books showed a take of about $4 million from New York and road companies.

The musical "Bloomer Girl" played a three- week break-in run in Philadelphia and created such a ticket scramble that there was a $100,000 sale before opening night in New York, for which seats were priced at $9. But this record did not last long. Billy Rose, who reclaimed the Ziegfeld Theater from the movies and used it to house his "Seven Lively Arts," reported an advance sale of $500,000. Opening-night top price for this ex- travagant revue was $24, which also entitled the customers to sip free champagne between the acts.

Rose also set some precedents with "Carmen Jones," his lavish modernized version of the opera "Carmen." This production long ago passed the Metropolitan's record of 219 performances of the original opera, and in 13 months in the largest legitimate house on Broadway it grossed more than $1 million on a $230,000 investment.

Sudden mass enthusiasm for the theater has brought big changes in the character of the audience. It's not the "carriage trade" any more. Women come in slacks, and men sometimes show up in shirt-sleeves or wind- breakers, right from their shift at some war plant. Many people are now seeing stage plays who never wanted to before or could not afford to. Some, who had never been to anything but movie houses, haven't liked the re- served-seat idea. They figure first come, first served, and if the SRO sign is out they want to know when the next show begins.

Today's audiences also include thousands of servicemen. Every day the American Thea- ter Wing gives away from 750 to 1,000 seats to New York's stage shows. This is the same organization that has set up seven Stage Door Canteens in the States and one in London. The ATW has also sponsored overseas productions like Kath- arine Cornell's "Barrets of Wim- pole Street"

Other theatrical entertainment committees have sent profes- sional players, usually girls, to overseas bases where they form the nucleus of casts for shows staged by soldiers. Italy and North Africa have had such a troupe, and GIs in the. Aleutians

have seen "The Doughgirls" and "Kiss and Tell."

Some actors in the service have been able to continue in the entertainment field on behalf of the troops. Maj. Maurice Evans, the outstanding Shakespearean actor in America, has trouped through Hawaiian bases with a Shakespearean repertoire. Once, after a performance of "Ham- let," a colonel who wanted to say something nice about the show, told Evans: "I certainly enjoyed your acting. What did you do in civilian life?"

Show people in the armed forces are*hoping just as hard as those now working that the mo- mentum built up by the legitimate theater dur- ing wartime will keep the industry rolling in high gear for a long time after the war. This is a tall order, because cut-backs in war industries have already begun to slow theater activities in a few isolated cases. Optimistic producers, how- ever, believe the stage will continue to draw heav- ily for at least five to seven years after the war, but they say the shows will have to be topnotch. ■» /

Veteran Frank Fay wows Broadway in "Harvoy," a play about an invisible rabbit.

load role of Mojor Joppo'; III "A slay about "MC in Sicily adopted rom tfo <»OYel.

By Sgt. ED CUNNINGHAM TANK Mutt corresponaenT

With the 84th Division — Back at the stag- ing area PX last September, a couple of station-complement noncoms gave some GIs from the 84th Division a tip. The noncoms, growing expansive after several free beers set up by their listeners, assured the 84th men they didn't have to wonder any more about what was in store for them in Europe.

"You guys don't have to worry about noting," a tech sergeant told them. "No bullets or bayonets or any of that stuff. You're gonna be part of the Army of Occupation. We got it straight from headquarters."

Faces dropped several feet at"the casual men- tion of Army of Occupation. "Hell," the tech ser- geant continued reassuringly, "you got a good deal. Germany's got plenty of good beer, and the Army's gonna put on a big sports and education program to keep you occupied. You guys hit just the right time, when all the fighting's finished."

Riflemen of the 84th, slogging through the ankle-deep snow and slush on the steep slopes of the Ardennes to flush out pockets of Jerries left behind by advancing American tanks, take a dim view of such stories these days. Back on the offensive again after helping stem the German mid-December drive toward the Meuse River, they have a few stories of their own to tell.

To begin with, there's the running account of the division's first month of action. Attacking for the first time on Nov. 18, 1944, the 84th hit the pillbox-defended town of Prummern. Germany, in one of the strongest sectors of the Siegfried Line. They took the town in six hours. Next day, the Railsplitters captured the German stronghold of Ircher and .the adjoining town of Suggerath. Moving on, they took Lindfern, Beeck, Leiffarth, Wurm and completed their month's work on Dec. 18 by capturing Mullendorf.

The day before the fall of 'Mullendorf, Field Marshal Karl von Rundstedt started his counter- offensive against the weak side of the Allied line in the fir-treed hills of the Ardennes region. The 84th was one of the first American divisions shifted southward to meet the German thrust to- ward Liege and the Meuse River. Brig. Gen. A. R. Boiling of Washington, D. C, commanding gen- eral of the 84th. was ordered to occupy and hold the town of Marche, hub point of the road net which controlled the highways leading west to the vital Meuse cities of Dinant and Namur. A German force of eight tanks, 10 half-tracks,

PAGE 10

several motorcycles and jeeps, and 80 infantry- men tried to break through into the little village of Menil, defended by Company I of the 333d Regiment. With tanks clearing the'way, the Ger- mans swept up the road toward the village, con- fident they had the American Army on the run.

But the crew of the lead tank hadn't figured on the daisy chain of antitank mines which the Yanks had stretched across the road. When the lead tank exploded and careened into a ditch, the tanks and half-tracks following it tried frantically to re- verse their field. That caused just enough delay for bazookamen, hidden in foxholes along the road, to take care of the second and third tanks.

Pfc. Clarence E. Love of Cherry Valley, Ark., and Pfc. Alex V. Tiler of Paris, Tenn., set one afire, while Pfc. Carl R Tisdale of Pataskala. Ohio, and Pfc. Robert C. Halloway of Ingle wood. Calif., blew the tracks off another Jerry armored vehicle. Firing his bazooka without assistance, Sgt. James M. Scanlan of Danville, Ky., hit a fourth tank, which staggered into another Yank mine field and blew itself to hell.

Meanwhile a second wave of enemy tanks started surging ahead toward Company I's lines.

An American second lieutenant saw two German infantrymen standing over a foxhole ready to shoot one of his men. He called S Sgt. Joseph S Wagner of West Conshohbcken, Pa., and they jumped the Jerries with carbines, killing both

Then the lieutenant spotted a tank in the sec- ond wave stopping to pick up three Krauts from a disabled tank. He jumped out of his foxhole and threw three bull's-eyes with hand grenades, wounding all three Jerries. But, before he could get back to his hole, he was killed by machine- gun fire from an enemy half-track.

The second wave of tanks was now running through Company I's positions. One hit another daisy chain and exploded. The next one bypassed the mines, only to veer off square into the line of fire of a bazooka manned by Sgt. Jesse Ten- penny of Morrison, Tenn.. and Pvt. Stephen Theil of Beaver. Pa. That made an even half dozen.

Two enemy half-tracks then tried to run the gantlet, but Sgt. Scanlan. the one-man bazooka crew, took care of the first one: it careened into another mine field where it exploded. His- second hit caused the other half-track to burst into flames. Two German motorcyclists then started

The first impact of the Kraut counteroffensive gave the infantrymen of the 84th Division and some Cub pilots plenty to do and to talk about.

YANK Th* Army Weekly . FEB. 2, 1945

popping oft at Scanlan with machine pistols, so ' he ducked, grabbed a couple of grenades and let them fly. Both Krauts were blown to shreds.

By now, after 30 minutes of furious fighting, the Jerries had had enough of I Company. They took off toward a patch of woods up on a nearby hill. But I Company hadn't had enough of the Jerries. They radioed back for a little artillery assistance. When the barrage was finished, I Com- pany went up to clean out what was left. There wasn't much. They found 17, more enemy vehicles which had been knocked out by artillery as well as some badly frightened Germans.

Company I's casualty list for the action was one killed — a lieutenant — and several wounded.

As^for the noncom's story about the 84th being i 'part of the Army of Occupation, it was a trifle premature, according to five members of a recon patrol who wandered around behind enemy lines after the German break-through. Taking off ■in a jeep to patrol the area south of Marche, they made a swing of 50 miles, 20 of them behind the Jerry lines. That night at dusk, the patrol headed back. Less than a mile from their outfit, they ran into a German roadblock which forced them to go back toward enemy positions.

They were driving along the main highway when they spotted a Jerry convoy coming toward them. Pulling off into the underbrush at the side of the road, the five 84th men watched in amaze- ment as the convoy passed them, for in it were U. S. jeeps, half-tracks, weapons carriers, com- mand cars, six-by-sixes — every type of U.S. Army vehicle but scout cars and tank destroyers.

When it was dark enough, the five GIs headed toward the front and their own lines. After sev- eral hours, they decided to pull off the road again and hide out. They sat there for hours without daring to sleep, as enemy convoys continued roll- ing toward the front.

After much discussion, the recon patrolmen de- cided it' was best to try to get back on foot. So, booby-trapping their jeep and burying their other equipment, they took off. Right off the bat they almost ran into the arms of a German patrol. That narrow escape convinced them that they should lie low. While German units moved within a few yards of them, they slept in the snow, with- out blankets. When fighting broke out in the nearby woods, they crawled into the shelter of a barn. There they rested, eating rotten potatoes they had found there when their rations were exhausted. When the battle ended with an Ameri- can tank force capturing the woods, five cold, hungry, tired recon men walked into a U. S. out- post and got transportation to their outfit.

Sgt. O. A. Tripken of Bakersfield, Calif., was the NCO in charge of the patrol, which included Sgt. Charles Peoples of Partridge, Kans ; Cpl. O.

A. Wheremore of Windham, N. Y.; CpL Alfred E. Sothern of Boise, Idaho, and* Pvt. John Biernachi of Worcester, Mass.

There are other stories 84th men could tell about their Army of Occupation duties, like the three medics who stayed behind with 18 wounded men when curtains of enemy artillery and small- - arms fire prevented the removal of the casualties from a town given up by a battalion of the 84th. Or like the two 81-mm mortar squads who beat off an attack by 150 German infantrymen near Hampteau. For an Army of Occupation, the 84th figures it's keeping pretty well occupied.

By Sgt. BILL DAVIDSON YANK Staff Correspondent

Lege. BELGtUM— It was the night of our first big retreat in Western Europe, when the Ger- mans pushed their counteroffensive wedge between Stavelot and St. Vith.

Nobody in the little cafe was talking very much; the sense of defeat was heavy on every- one, and we felt the shame of taking refuge here so far behind the lines. We remembered the faces of the civilians we'd passed as we headed westward, and the Luftwaffe strafing, and the woman with the laughing little boy and girl who said quietly: "Please take these children with you: they're Jewish."

There were hushed civilians in the cafe, and Piper Cub pilots wearing wings and the insignia of the Artillery. The pilots came from different divisions. Tomorrow those who still had planes would fly back and try to locate their outfits.

"It's funny," said a little captain with a South- ern accent. "We were all in the sack in those two ' nice little houses we'd fixed up near the front line when Riffle [S/Sgt. Francis Riffle] came run- ning in. And do you know what he said?"

Nobody knew what Riffle had said, so the little captain went on. "He said, 'There are engineers digging in the front yard.' I looked out and, sure enough, engineers were out there digging fox- holes. Then I got on the phone to the Battalion S-2 and he says he's been trying to get me and there are enemy tanks in the town on our right flank. Then he tells me there are enemy tanks in the town on our left flank. After that, 'there's s pause on the phone and the S-2 sounds right tired. •There are also,' he says, 'enem*' para- troopers reported operating in the town where you are.' "

The pilots and the ground-crew GIs ran out into the cow-pasture field, the captain said, and piled everything that was movable into the little «pot- ter planes. One by one the planes started to take off.

As the Cubs headed down the stfip. a Tiger tank pulled into sight across a road. The tank halted uncertainly, as if it didn't know what to make of the swarm of tiny aircraft, then opened fire with machine guns. At the same time mortar shells began to fall at the far end of the field. The planes headed right into the fire. There was nothing else they could do. Most' of them got off and made it to Liege.

The pilots talked about another Cub outfit that hadn't fared so well. "First thing we knew," said a tall, thin-faced lieutenant from that outfit, "we heard someone yelling in German on the road outside our house."

The lieutenant's men didn't even have a chance to get out of the house,

so they piled down into the cellar. A German came up to the front door and blew it open with a blast of his machine pistol, and then more Ger- mans broke into the house. They ransacVed the Americans' personal belongings and helped them- selves to souvenirs, especially helmets, flight jackets and .45s.

Then the Germans decided to go down into the cellar to look around for cognac. The cellar door stuck. A German kicked it open and started down the steps. At this point there was a crash out- side, foUowed rapidly by three others. The Ger- man ran back up the steps, and he and the others piled out of .the house. American artillery was firing on the nearby field, destroying the Cubs so they wouldn't fall into enemy hands. The Ger- mans took off, and the Americans beat it out of the cellar and somehow found their way to safety.

Over in a corner, a captain named Stevenson was talking quietly to a Belgian girl. That afternoon he'd been flying a general out of the danger zone when he spotted a column of enemy tanks. He flew to a Ninth Air Force base and gave the group-operations officer the location of the Germans. A squadron of Thunderbolts caught the Panzers on an open road and clobbered them with 500-pound bombs.

Over at another table, surrounded by Cub pi- lots, sat two crew chiefs. One was T-3 John Watts, an oilfield worker from Shreveport, La. At home years ago Watts had fooled around with a Cub on Sundays. The afternoon of the break-through Watts' outfit was in danger. Some planes had been flown out, but there "were not enough pilots, and it looked as if two Cubs would have to be left behind. Watts went up to his CO, Capt. How- ard Cunningham of St. Petersburg, Fla. "I'll fly one of the planes out, sir," he said. "I can't give you permission to do that." Watts looked at the captain. 'Turn your back, sir, and you won't know anything about it." .

"I just remembered," the captain said, walking away, "I've got to make a telephone call."

Watts barely missed a tree on the take-off and he flew stiff and nervous, but he got there.

Ten minutes after Watts left, T-3 Marvin Pier- ick of Highland, Wis., who had flown an old Cub exactly 35 hours while he was stationed near Paris, Tex., took off in another ship. It was almost dark when he hit the other field. The first time he tried to land he had to take off again. Coming back for another pass, he made it. "I was just trying to get a second landing in," he said.

In the cafe the two sergeants sat drinking beer witb the pilots. There wasn't much conversation any more, but when Pierick said he wished he had a cigar, one of the lieutenants got up and bought a stringy black one from the proprietor for 1,200 francs. 'Thank you, sir," Pierick said.

Then everyone sat there and didn't say any- thing for a long time.

The Germans helped themselves to helmets, flight jackets and .45s.

I

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Google

FAKE TANK. A Yonfc in France examines one of Mate. It's a wooden frame with a drain-pipe gun

units erected by the Germans Q fj Q j rWrKf PDGfl i distance it looks realistic " a Dobern

iwERsiTfram^.ff

Irving Chornus holds a the K-9 Corps,

'OULD-BE WACS. In Puerto Rico, smiling Wac Sgt. Mary Lou Hayes poises out left paper* to four attractive young lenoritas who have just volunteered to enlist in the* Women's Army Corps.

VETERAN CHEF. Pat of S/Sgt. Louis Bruno,

, 70, working in the ft for Gen. Pershing in

MILESTONE. This is the volcano Fujiyama as seen through the nose of a B 29 Superf way to bomb Tokyo. Superfort crews make use of the volcano as a guide to the Jap capi

LD PROMOTIONS. Fifth Army

IIUN3. Firth Army nancoms are awarded commissic Donald R. Sprow, Lt DeWit. H French and It Peter

bit, he snapped the shutter of the camera until he had the entire secret on film. There was a rumbling outside.

"We're trapped!" screamed the blonde.

Harry tore open the camera and slipped the exposed film into his pocket. He threw the Min- nesota female over his shoulder, grasped the bell ropes and began to climb. A siren shrieked, bells rang, the rat-tat-tat of a machine gun roared in the hollow chamber. He struggled through the ceiling toward a light above. As they were about to reach the surface, two evil faces with long mustaches appeared at the opening. The two mandarins! One of them held the ropes together and the other began to cut with his knife. He was still sawing away when Harry reached the top and climbed out into daylight.

"What's the matter. Bub?" said Harry. "Knife dull?" He spoke in the tone of voice used by MPs. There was another explosion.

That was all Harry could stand. He awoke to the humdrum world of reality. The barracks was quiet and a gentle breeze blew through the window. In the distance could be heard the steady, faint thunder of airplane motors. The two strings on the mosquito net swayed aimlessly.

Ten minutes passed and Bud Fendenkowitz stomped through the door, sweating and panting, his clothes covered with mud. In his hand was a helmet. He looked at Harry suspiciously. "How did you make it back so fast?" he asked. "Back from where, stupid? I've been sleeping." Bud sat down on the next bunk in a daze, hel- met in hand, staring at Harry reverently.

"Do you mean to tell me you slept through the alarm — the whole raid — all three passes the Jap bombers made over the field?"

Bud stopped. There was no answer, so he con- tinued: "Well, they blew up an irrigation ditch and two empty revetments. Someone said your new pfc assistant from India bagged a Zero from the gun pit down by the armament shack."

Harry Bizzle lay on his back and said nothing. He took a knife from his pants pocket, flipped open the blade and with a quick stroke cut the two dangling strings from the center of the net.

male over his shoulder j g j n 3 I frOITl and began to climb.

UNIVERSITY OF MICH

PAGE 15

YANK Thm Army W—kly . Ki. 7, 1945

RCAF Wings

Dear Yank:

Before I joined the Army I served in the Royal Canadian Air Force. Am I permitted to wear my Canadian wings on my Army uniform? If I am, where do I wear them in relation to my Air Corps wings?

Hawaii -S ir. WILLIAM MORGAN

• You may weor your RCAF wings on your Army uniform. They should be worn over the right pocket of your blouH. If you woor both »n of wings at oneo, tha AAF wings should be worn ovor the left pocket.

Travel Pay

Dear- Yank:

In your report on the Demobilization Plan, you stated that Pfc. Fake received $100 mustering-out pay and $39.55 for travel pay. Just how was this travel pay figured and what is the basis for re- ceiving this extra pay?

At our last administrative inspection we were told to line out all entries concerning travel pay when an enlisted man is discharged. The inspector claimed that travel pay is now unauthorized and all entries pertaining to travel pay were lined out and marked void. If this entry is marked void how can an enlisted man claim travel pay? This is very confusing to our service-record clerks and the rest of the squadron also.

My -lit Sgt. H. SCHEIN*

•Ahe .iened by 1, Sgt. J. A. Ooden. lata. M H. Iridgei. P. J. lemer, P. E. Rekhe, oad Cols. I. A. McOoienMS. 1. J. Perelli.

• YANK't statement was and is correct. Enlisted men who

What's Your Problem?

Letters to this department should bear writer's full name, serial number and military address.

Overseas Allotment

Dear Yank:

I am 'engaged to a French girl, and we plan on being married soon after hostilities with Ger- many have ceased. Will she, after marriage, be entitled to a dependency allotment? If so, will this allotment make any change in the depen- dency allotment which my mother has been get- ting up to now?

-Pvt. M. A. WATTS

■ Your bride wilt receive o Class A allowance of $30 a month. The fact that she is not an American citizen and that she is living in a foreign country will have no bearing on her right to the allowance. There may be some delay in the pay- ment of the allowance because of currency restrictions, but in any case she will receive the full allowance from the date that you first apply. Your' mother's allowance will continue after your marriage, and the two allowances will cost you a

Loss of Pay*

Dear Yank:

Due to a series of unfortunate circumstances I was hospitalized for a venereal disease. In all, I was in the hospital for just 10 days. When I got my pay I found that my pay for the 10 days was forfeited because they claim that this time in the hospital is bad time. I do not understand that, because I was told that we would no longer lose arty pay for this reason. Yet rrty orderly room in- sists that I am not entitled to pay for the time 1 spent in the hospital. Are they right? Holy -(Nome Withheld)

■ No, they aren't. Under present regulations [At 35-1440, 17 Nov. 1944] "absence from regular duties an account of a venereal disease, whether or not due to misconduct, will

i less of pay." See your CO about getting the deduc-

Blue Discharge

Dear Yank:

I have been in trouble on a number of occa- sions and have served about four months in the guardhouse. I have heard all sorts of rumors which would indicate that FU probably get a blue discharge (without honor). Does this mean I can't get in on the benefit-! of the GI Bill of Rights after I am discharged, as my buddies tell me? Just where do I stand? I had been planning on going back to school, and the free tuition would make a heck of a lot of difference.

Central Pacific — T-S HAROLD J. LESTER

I If you get a blue discharge you will not forfeit your right to the benefits of the O I Bill of Rights. Only veterans who receive dishonorable discharges are out of luck under that law. All other types of discharge entitle the holder to the benefits of the GI Mil of Rights.

Muster ing-Out Pay

Dear Yank:

In civilian life I was a tool maker in a plant making highly critical war goods. Recently the firm wrote the War Department requesting uiy discharge as an essential man. Apparently the discharge is going to come through, because I was shipped here from Alaska and I am mark- ing time waiting for all the papers to be put through. If I am discharged to take a job in an essential industry, will I get mustering-out pay. or am I out of luck?

Camp leak. Cafe*. -Pfc. JOSEPH LOWE

B When a man is discharged to go into essential industry, he gets no mustoi mg-oet pay if he has served easy he she U. S. He does get it if he has had overseas service [WD Bul- letin 3 r 1944; J. So you'll get a payment of $300.

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

Casualties

M

(ore than 30,000 sick and wounded battle cases were sent back to the States for treatment during December. The number of returned sick and wounded is npw so large that the Medical De- partment can no longer make it a policy to send patients to hospitals nearest their home towns.

From now on, the Medical Department's first concern will be to send the patient to the hos- pital best equipped to take care of his particular injury or sickness. If there is a choice of such hospitals, the patient will be sent to the one near- est his home town.

Up to Dec. 21, U. S. combat casualties totaled 638,139. This was an increase of 9,698 over the last announced total, covering the war through Dec. 14. Army casualties totaled 556,352 through Dec. 21, an increase of 8,529, and the Navy's total was 81,787, an increase of 1,169 over the Dec. 14 total. The Dec. 21 total breaks down as follows: Army— 103,991 killed, 326,127 wounded. 66,567 missing, 59,667 prisoners. Navy — 31,332 killed, 36,697 wounded, 9,277 missing, 4,481 prisoners.

At the end of the first week of January the War Department had not received a complete state- ment of personnel and materiel losses resulting from the German drive which started Dec. 16.

Cold-Weather Mask

A new face mask for use of troops exposed to extremely cold weather will be issued soon by the Quartermaster Corps. It is made of water- repellent cotton sateen, lined with wool pile and felt, and has a movable flap to permit eating, drinking and smoking.

The new mask takes the place of one that did not offer sufficient protection. At 40 below zero a 10-mph wind will freeze an unprotected face with- in one minute. The new masks, tested for 40 min- utes at 40 below against a 20-mph wind, proved satisfactory.

AAF Training Aid '

A full-sized bomber nose, complete with Norden bombsight, bombrack controls, switches and instruments, is one of the AAF's training aids for student bombardiers. A movie film, recorded

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EDITORIAL STAFF

Art

■ tt. Marli . Allaa Cakar. AAF R 'third Paul. OEML

t>aturr.lgStt.

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on a screen and reflected in a mirror beneath the nose, gives the student rolling terrain on which to set the bombsight and release the bombs. The training device may be regulated as to speed and altitude, and bomb hits are recorded by points of light on the reflection.

The trainer was made primarily to prepare bombardiers to use the Norden sight, but it is also used overseas to give bomber crews a preview of target runs hefore a mission.

Correction

It was stated in a recent issue of Yank that the 38th Division was in Western Europe. The where- abouts of the 38th Division have not been offi- cially disclosed.

New Speed Record

A new transcontinental speed record was set by an Army Boeing strato-cruiser when it flew from Seattle, Wash., to Washington, D. C, a " of 2,340 miles, in six hours and nine Average speed was about 380 mph.

The plane is a transport counterpart of the B-29 Superfortress. The previous record was held by a Lockheed Constellation, which covered the distance in six hours and 57 minutes last April.

Chinese Junk

A QM salvage yard in China is making as much as $750,000 CN (Chinese currency) a month selling Army junk to the Chinese. An empty tin can brings more than can and con- tents would cost in the U.S. A No. 10 can now brings $180 CN. The Chinese make the cans into kitchen utensils, office supplies and lamps. A blown-out tire will bring $18,000 CN, or about $60 U. S., at open market exchange. From the tires Chinese make rickshaw tires, shoe soles or tires for horse carts.

WAC Training

The Women's Army Corps Training Center at Fort Des Moines, Iowa, is now the only one still operating in the U. S., following discontinuance of the center at Fort Oglethorpe, Ga. At one time there were five WAC centers in the country.

Closing of the centers was brought about by WAC acceptance into Regular Army training channels as well as by reduction of enlistment

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quotas. Rather than build up the Army is now recruiting for More than 90,000 Wacs are 15,000 of them overseas.

Mail Delayed in Europe

Heavy movement of personnel and materiel in Western Europe, necessitated by the German drive, has caused a delay in the delivery of mail to soldiers in that theater. Delivery of Christmas packages was also delayed to some extent, but the Army Postal Service reports that of 62 mil- lion Christmas packages sent to men overseas, 90 percent had been delivered before Dec. 25.

Gf Shop Talk

T-5 Eric Gunnar Gibson, Swedish immigrant boy of Chicago, 111., who was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor for gallantry in Italy, has been given the Legion of Merit .... Antiaircraft gunners of the U. S. First Army have knocked down more than 500 enemy planes since D-Day .... Analysis of captured German flour shows that Nazi soldiers are getting bread bulked up with soybeans, corn and sawdust .... Quartermaster bakers in France now date their bread as a guide to mess officers .... This year Australia furnished more than $100N million worth of food to American forces in the South- west Pacific .... Portable ice plants run under fire by quartermaster troops on the Anzio beach- head furnished hospitals with ice and cold- storage facilities .... Belgian and French con- cerns are manufacturing 60- and 81 -mm mortars for U. S. forces on the Western Front .... The Army recently bought more than four million containers of cosmetics — for camouflaging fight- ing men's faces .... First U. S. service-club hostesses to serve in an active theater of war have arrived in Paris and Brussels. The women are hired by Special Services Division .... Pacific U. S. bombers are using captured Jap bomb's to attack enemy islands .... Three Ger- man prisoners convicted of rioting at Camp Chaffee, Ark., have been given 10-year prison terms .... Switzerland and Sweden will par- ticipate in an air-shuttle system to speed up letter mail to and from U. S. prisoners in Ger- many and Japan .... Incidence of tuberculosis in the Army has been cut to one-tenth of its rate in the first World War.

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Suaaly OaVaar: Caat. Gerald J. Raak.

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■ nil II Mil

Artist Becomes an Army Cook But Keeps on Painting

Kally Field, Tax.— Sgt. Tony Ciampa of Brook lyn, who was a civilian artist and is Army cook, pursues both his callings here. He works his regular shift in the kitchen and spends his off-duty hours working on a mural, "Sermon on the Mount," which will be placed in the ves- tibule of the Catholic Chapel here.

Ciampa, who studied art at the National Acad- emy of Design and the New York School of In- dustrial Art, was a package designer in the art department of the National Can Company before he entered the service. In his spare time he drew portraits and studied fine arts, because his ambi- tion was to paint religious subjects.

On entering the Army, he was classified for general duty, shipped to a Puerto Rican base with his squadron and qualified as a cook while there. He painted a Biblical mural for a chapel at his base and had begun murals for several day rooms, but had to leave before any of the latter were finished.

Germany Was a Cinch

Fort Monmouth, N. J. — S/Sgt. Warren Mitchell of Morristown, N. J., completed 73 missions over Germany without a spratch and was convinced that he led a charmed life until he came home to Morristown on furlough from Sheppard Field, Tex. A car he was riding in skidded on a wet pavement, went into a spin and crashed into a tree. Mitchell, who suffered a split kneecap and other injuries, is now recuperating at the Tort Monmouth regional hospital.

Paratroop Veteran, 18, Wants Another Try

Camp Fannin, Tex. — Pvt. Foster J. Graham, 18, now taking infantry basic in Company A of the 59th Battalion, would like to get into the Paratroops, but he's 1% inches too tall. He was at least two inches shorter when he was 16, he says, but the two years he spent in the Paratroops stretched him a little.

This, incidentally, is Graham's third course of basic training. Between his second and third ba- sics he got three campaign ribbons, three bronze stars, the Purple Heart, a sergeancy, a discharge and a 1-A classification from his local draft board in Chicago,- 111.

In September 1942, a month after his 16th birthday, Graham managed to enlist in the Army and was assigned to the Field Artillery. He fin- ished basic in that branch and transferred to the Paratroops, where he took basic and participated in maneuvers.

Graham's mother accepted her son's being in the Army, despite his youth, so long as he was 'safe. When he stopped a German shell at Anzio, however, she decided that enough was enough, so she wrote to the War Department and asked foi his discharge.

"I saw everyone in our division, from the Old Man down to the latrine orderly, when they told

me I had to go home." Graham says. "But it was no go. They shipped me back to the States and I was discharged." After he had been sitting around home in his tweeds for three months, his 18th birthday came around and, with it, a letter beginning: "Having submitted yourself to a local board composed of your neighbors . . ." Two weeks later he was at Camp Fannin, hut-hutting it as an Infantry rookie.

His application for readmission into the Para- troops was held up because of his added height, but his battalion commander, Maj. Linn D. Gari- baldi, has endorsed the application and requested a waiver on his height. The letter is currently going "through channels," and Graham feels he has at least an even chance of wearing again the paratrooper's silver wings he always carries in his pocket.

In addition to the wings, which he cannot wear, and the Purple Heart, which he will not wear (because "it was my own damned fault and I'm not proud of it"), the ex-sergeant holds the Asiatic-Pacific, American Defense and European- Afr ican -Middle Eastern Ribbons. The three bronze stars he wears are for the Aleutian, North African and Italian campaigns, In the latter he fought at Naples. Mt. Trochia, San Vittorio, the Rapido River and the Anzio beachhead.

-Sgl JAMES C. ANDERSON

!

He ids

DEVIL'S FIDDLE. Thai's the name Pfc Ernest Gael?

ner of Maxwell Field, Ala., gives to the musical <> strument he made from pie pans, cowbells am

by Google UNIVE^

YANK The Army Weekly • FEB. 1. 1945

Guidebook With Stripes

Fort Sumner AAF, N. Max.— A GI talking to Cpl. Sam Levinson of Brooklyn, N. Y., happened to mention that his own home town was Salem, Oreg.

"Nice place, Salem," s'aid Sam. "Population around 30.900. state capital; in Marion County; two railroad stations and an airport; manufac- tures airplane linen material, wood boxes, paper, paper products and woolen goods."

"When were you in Salem?" asked the other soldier.

"Never been within a thousand miles of the place," said Sam.

Levinson has been confusing people in this fashion for some time. As an economics and ac- counting student at St. John's University in Brooklyn, he used to read encyclopedias, atlases and textbooks the way the average guy reads a newspaper. Today Levinson can reel off the pop- ulation, area, location and main industries of al- most every fair-sized city in America as casually as if he were telling you his name, rank and serial number. Despite all this, he maintains that he is no bookworm and he is proud of his inter- est in sports.

His job at Sumner is exactly what you might expect it to be. He's a clerk in finance.

Supreme Court to Army

Corap Blending, Ho.— Pvt. John A. Kenning of the Infantry .Replacement Center has a yen for the days when he was an important figure in the U. S. Supreme Court.

Though still a young man, Kenning has had long experience in the proceedings of the Su- preme Court A native of Germantown. Pa., Ken- ning went to Washington some years ago as an office boy in the Administrative Office of U. S. Courts and worked his way up through a line of clerkships to the position of deputy marshal and crier. It was his function to open the court with a ringing cry. "Oyez, oyez!"

Kenning expects to go back to his old job after the war. "But," he says, "I wouldn't be much good at crying 'Oyez' now. I'm rusty. Too much Hup, two. three, foah.' "

ROLL OUT THE BARREL

Hq Co. Southeastern Sector, Raleigh, N. C. -

When some "X" clothing was issued here, T-3 Ray- mond Cassinelli spent an hour and a half trying on trousers without finding a pair to fit. When Cossi- nelli, discouraged, went Jooking for the trousers he had worn in, they were gone. They'd been snapped up by one of the other bargain hunters.

WITH MEN WHO KNOW-

McGuire General Hospital, Va.— The cigarette shortage doesn't bother Pfc. Angelo Tobacco of Yonken, N. Y. "Let 'em keep their < Tobacco, "I smoke stogies."

Big-Mouth Champion

langiey Field, Va. — Cpl. Leonard Hanstein's friends say that he has the biggest mouth of any guy in the Army. He earned enough with it at banquets and on the "stage to enter Southern Methodist University for a course in communica- tions engineering.

Put four GI flashlight batteries in Cpl. Han- stein's mouth and it measures 6 Vfe inches across. It will also hold six ping-pong balls or 100 rounds of carbine ammunition at one time, and a full- size harmonica will fit snugly inside. Hanstein can place a lighted pipe back against his tonsils, and when gum wasn't so scarce he thought noth- ing of chewing 102 pieces in one wad.

Back home in Oklahoma City, Leonard went into training at the age of 6 by putting his thumb in his mouth and following it with the rest of his fist. He's been featured on the radio in "Hobby Lobby" and in the movie short, "Strange as It Seems." Before coming to the AAFTC base at Langiey, he performed in military installations at Dallas. Tex.; Palm Beach, Miami and Bora Baton, Fla.. and Fort Sill, Okla.

Right now he's worrying because GI dentists have removed two of his teeth. Now when he puts four large hen's eggs in his mouth his changed dentures sometimes crack the shells. "J'm not keen for that kind of scrambled eggs," says Hanstein. . _Pfc B08 |NSWobth

Training Convalescents

Sioux Falls AAF, S. Dak. — The soldier in pajamas and red corduroy bathrobe spots his target, spins in his turret to line it up in the ring sight, pulls the trigger and "sends the enemy smoking out of the blue."

This is a daily routine in the convalescent- training room of the AAF Regional Station Hos- pital here, where a panoramic-gunnery trainer that originally belonged to the Navy is proving its worth both from a military and a therapeutic point of view.

The device is mounted in a basic-training tur- ret that rotates, elevates and depresses"at the control of the operator. Earphones provide the simulated sound of plane engines for the student as he peers at a small screen on which is pro- jected planes flashing from all angles without warning. On the side of the film, hit-indicating marks register the shots fired and whether the target is correctly lined up in the ring sight.

Flora ASFTC Ordnance Plant, Miss. — When the librarian here sent out a card for an overdue book, it came back marked "Soldier AWOL." Title of the book: "Farewell to Arms."

DeRidder AAB, La. — Pvt. James Conte of the Signal Section finished peeling potatoes and the cook told him to lug the pot containing them to the icebox. An hour later the cook saw the same pot in the same spot and roared belligerently at Conte: "Didn't I tell you to put this in the ice- box?" "I was going to," said Conte, "but the sign on the icebox door stopped me." The sign read,

"KPS KEEP OUT."

Texarkono -OUTC, Tex. — In three months of shop training, the 625th Ordnance Base Automo- tive Unit here has reclaimed about $500,000 worth of materiel, according to Maj. Donald W. Curtis, shop chief.

Camp Crowder, Mo. — There is no more mopping of floors in one barracks of Company I, 800th Signal Training Regiment. When Friday-night GI parties are held, the boys "swab the deck." The Navy lingo comes from 14 seamen who. as stu- dents of the Central Signal Corps School, share the barracks with the soldiers. Twelve Marine veterans are in another company of the same regiment.

Scott Field, III.— Sgt. Harold L. Asen, who writes the "Behind the Hangar" column in the Broad- caster, reports this one: When S/Sgt. William Mansur of Section A had a money order to cash, the postal clerk told him he'd have to have some form of identification. "Have you a friend in camp?" asked the clerk. "I don't know," replied Mansur. "I'm a PT instructor."

Sioux Falls AAF, S. Dak. — Five new magnetic-tape recorders have been installed at the AAF Train- ing Command Radio School so that students can hear their own hand-sending played back im- mediately after being recorded. The new instru- ments are expected to help men correct their er- rors better than the instructors can: the students have to transcribe their own sending.

Eagle Pass AAF, Tex.— The new noncom assigned to promote ground safety on the field is Cpl. William F. Daniels of Kansas City, Kans. In civilian life he was a mortician.

Camp Shanks, N. Y. — Cpl. Stan Bookstein of Barracks 76-21 bounded gaily into the station hospital to visit his buddy, Sgt. Harold Gold, and bolster his spirits. As Harry swung out of the bed to take the outstretched hand of his visitor, Stan's trick knee buckled. When the doctor en- tered the ward a few minutes later, he found the visitor stretched out in bed and Gold stand- ing solicitously over him. The doctor then taped the knee so Bookstein could hobble on his way.

MAIL CALL

This is something worth writing a poem about.

This is something big with a capital B.

This is laughter and death.

Sorrow and joy, misery and ecstasy.

This is everything that life is.

Plus something like a miracle.

This is all the poetry in the world —

Yes, and all the music too —

Carefully folded up in odd-sized envelopes

And handed out with a heart-jumping yell:

"Atkinson! Balubowitz! Kelly! -

Jones! Johnson! Schwartz!" —

Every name called.

And every name conspicuously not called. A poem.

Yes, ^by God, a real poem.

Melt all the poetry that ever was In one 'great sum of metric beauty Go ahead.

It won't hold a candle to this. This bright thing. This magic paper,

Unbelievably touched by known hands.

India -Pft JOHN R. COOK

THE BALLAD OF POOR JACK SALT

This is a tale that too* told me One night in a strange English town While I stood in queue for a bus that was due,

And the wet English rain drizzled down:

Jack Salt was his name. Arizona he hailed from. The Infantry claimed him. A mortar man, he Enlisted at 18. The towns he had mailed from Encircled the globe, were diverse as could be. For nearly three years Jack Salt followed the mortar

To many far ports, over many a sea. ' But it troubled him little. Jack ne'er wanted quarter,

Twas always the same thing he'd tell us: "You see,

This place is no worse than the next place they'll send us.

No better'n the last, so I say, what the hell? Next station we ship to ain't going to befriend us. It won't be Arizona. It won't suit me well!"

That's the way that he was. Jack took the Aleu- tians

In f if 11 stride. The South Seas could not put a sag In his grin, for wherever Jack did his ablutions Would do till the day he could pack up his bag And make for the States, where he'd lead to the altar

His love, Arizona, and make her his wife.

Last Christmas, still moving. Jack shipped past Gibraltar

On a tub bound for Britain, and still full of life.

When she docked it was raining and right from that minute

Jack changed. He was never the same man again. "England! he'd snarl, "I hate everything in it! For pete's sake I can't live much longer in rain!" And he didn't. One night it cleared up for an hour

After six days of rain — then it started to pour lewe^versTOn*nimf<stoodgt her^inthe door.

Staring out at it, he stood there for hours. We sat playing poker; at length we turned in. None of us sleeping, discussing the powers Of rain and the weeks we all had been churned i It was sdmetime past midnight w

I flashlit the doorway and there Jack revolved On his heels, just outside, while the drenching

rain kissed him On his wild, upturned face!

WkedttJotn

No Jack Salt sui call,

<The rain was still l To tell the Veird story AWOL;

They carry him thus yet) . They'd have said that we lied.

But I found his dog tags on the spot where he'd melted,

Twelve shillings in change and Jack's battered green pen.

Full of water, no doubt from the rain that had pelted

Its owner. Well never see Jack Salt again!

And that was the tale that was told me One night in a strange English town While I stood in a queue for a bus that was due.

And the wet English rain drizzled down.

-Pvt. DAN W I

ONLY THE BRAVE

With bayonets they tortured him,

They tied him to a tree, Hot coals they placed beneath his feet. And pulled his fingernails free. , They hung him up, just by his thumbs, His brow was damp with sweat, "! he refused to tell them where rettes. -Wlf AIRBWT I

THESE ARE THE YEARS

If you pause on the threshold of a year And wonder, had you not better wait Before you cross, the drag of doubt and fear Will slyly check your step and let the date Pass by. These are the changing years when faith Means most, and blessed are the strong in heart. These are the years when the hand of fate Is locked with yours across a board to start. And then the struggle till a hand goes down, Forever then, a slave. These are the years When surety's the ace and bluffs are thrown And conquerors oblivious to tears. Steel then your stride and meet it like a king- any thing!

you can

n. r.

PORT OF EMBARKATION

One would never think. Hearing the scratchy victrola And the laughter. That these men are soon to go. (The bent cigarette butt tufted with At the bottom of the can. The pattern of the plywood wall Around the torn poster And the sensitive face across the table, Lips moving as he writes.

Eyes pausing to follow the fly on the magazine, Eyes suddenly showing unfinished griefs.)

One would never think

They are to go so far from this room.

(The row of light bulbs,

The coke bottles.

The sound of an American city nearby And, beyond the darkness, the ocean.)

One would never think

That some of them may not return.

(The handprint on the window,

The waterproof wristwatch,

The boy with the small, pale hands

Tapping his fingers on the chair.)

One would never think

Of such things

Or feel the ugly shudder

If one were alone with only the beating of one's heart,

If one did not hear them laughing.

Ommi -T-4 STAN FUNK

THE DEAD

Pray do not weep for those who lie so still In shallow trenches; pity's not for such. This valley where they fell is that much Greener, those flowers on that crest of hill Are tinted deep and lovelier where they bled. Yes, pity those who make the coward's choice. Who heed the hob-nailed boot and guttural voice, Who calculate the odds, and live in dread. But when you think of valiant men who chose To fight, take courage, high resolve and pride That they were your kmd; march with firm bold stride.

With tearless eyes look up, as one who knows That mankind must, to gain fields rich and bright. First take, at any cost, the rugged '

Get out that old ad- dress book — if you've still got it around — and check your total with this diagram. Here you can find the first names of at least 20 girls. No telephone num- bers. See how many you can find.

Start with any letter and spell out a name by moving in any direction —horizontally, vertically or diagonally — to an ad- joining square. Don't use the same square twice for any one name: you can repeat a letter if it occurs in different squares.

Example: jalna — Start with J. move up to A. then diagonally up and right to L then left to N. then diagonally up and right to A.

s	Y	A	o	D
1	N	L	1	L
R	A	N	F	M
0	J	E	K	A
D	C	1	R	Y

CROW-EATING DEFT.

IF all Hie guys who tried f utilely to moke tense out of a recent Beer Bet problem involving three glasses (the middle one being upside down) will just try to forget the whole damn thing, they will win the sternal gratitude of a Sod Sack who Is also trying to forget the thing but can't because of the letters that keep pouring in. -Praia Ed.

ANAGRAMS

To play this, all you have to do is reshuffle the let- ters to form a new word. For instance, thing + K. rearranged, forms knight. Here are 20 tough ones. Can you solve them within two hours? Don't peek at the answers.

1. NAIIS+ G 6. IOADING+ A

2. SINEWS + T 7. POTATOES + H

3. FERRY + A S. CHAINED + A

4. SCYTHE + K 9. HARMONICA + S

5. DOPESTER + O 10. SECTION + A

HOW OLD IS MARY?

This brain teaser, by Sam Loyd. the puzzle king of the early 1900s. still manages to stump even the experts.

Mary and Anne's ages combined total 44 years. Mary is twice as old as Anne was when Mary was half as old as Anne will be when Anne is three times

PUZZLE SOLUTIONS

»s pu» j|»jnoX H»HD «',« «.»us iAKVW SI cno MOM

im»otr»o oi '

•A«x '*»,! '»l<>a '»u»n ■ «UI «ntr sMoa Piui

old is Mary?

CHANGE OF ADDRESS^ 17

•crib** and ho v« dunged your adjust, uu mis pawpaw l«l»rtm wmS the moiling oddr.x on yew latest YANK ro notify in of Ik* chono.. Moil It to YANK, The Aran/ Wsttli, 209 East 4U Street. Now York 17. N. Y, and

Full name and rank OLD MILITARY I

Older No

THE hair is blond, the eyes are blue and the name is lizabeth Scott Her other qualifications for pin-up immortalty are too obvious to mention in detail. She was a Walter Thornton model in New York for a while, but it didn't take long for Hollywood to spot her. Now she's on the West Coast shaking her lovely head at movie cameras

"You got o minute. sorge?"

-Pic Stun Dubin. SC. fc.lt.mo... Md

THE RUBAFYAT OF MARGARET JANE TAGG5

Awake! The hosts of Dawn have put to rout Night's misty legions; Brightness spreads about.

The strident Whistle sounding urgently Conveys its Message "wake, arise, fall out!"

The Moving Finger writes, and we may read The Future, so abidingly decreed:

For the Duration and for Six Months more Our Piety and Wil is what we'll need.

Though some may moan and in Dejection sit. While others, more rebellious, long to quit.

Inexorably comes the Answer back: "This is the Army; you Girls asked for it."

Into the Corps we came, and why not knowing — Except that we must serve, our Fervor showing:

And in it we shall serve, beyond a Doubt, Although our Qualms are willy-nilly growing.

Some on a Past of rare Refinement dwell, While others of a rosy Future tell;

Yet many a Maiden, were the truth revealed. Believes one Man, at hand, would do as well.

There's little Comfort in the thought that Thou Art far away beneath some Foreign Bough,

And if Thou hast a Jug of Wine besides, Thou art more fortunate than I am, now.

Then let us to the nearest Tavern fly, Seek swift Forgetfulness in Gin and Rye;

Alas, for us no Solace from the Grape — It is forbidden that a Wac get high.

Though Roses bloom where buried Caesars bled And I shall nourish Daisies when I'm dead,

The Dust I'll be concerns me not so much As Dust the CO found beneath my bed.

The Past is dim, the Future far from clear, But all we need to know is that we're here.

Our Part is to obey, to Forward March! Then, turning, march as briskly to the Rear.

When Time brings to a Close this hectic Span. When Destiny unfolds another Plan,

May One who goes this way, remembering. Turn down for me an empty GI Can.

Wmkmoto*. D. C. S0. MMOAKT JANE TAGGS

Three Clerks

The coffee, slugged with cream, took on a defi- nite tinge of green.

"Bring some of this back to the barracks," said Cpl. Slurp, "and we'll write some letters."

"Ain't got paper." said Pvt. Johnson, the ma- terialist.

"Also," said Pvt. Gillespie, "there's no use writing to anybody anyway. Everybody's ship- ping out and who knows when we might be next and who can think of anything else to write and who wants to read in a letter about every- body shipping out?"

"Nobody," said Pvt. Johnson.

The three clerks sipped their coffee with the customary hissing effects.

"Gillespie's barracks bags have been packed since 1943," said Slurp.

"A good soldier is always ready," murmured Gillespie.

"You ain't got coat hangers." said Johnson. "Everybody knows you ain't got coat hangers." "In the Infantry I won't need coat hangers,"

Contributions for thu page should be oddresied to the Post Eichonge YANK Th> Army Weekly 205 Ea»t 42d Street New York 17 N Y

said Gillespie. "In the Infantry you carry all your clothes in a pack."

"What makes you so sure it's the Infantry?" asked Cpl. Slurp irritably. "Lots of fellows get shipped out without going into the Infantry."

"My feet have been aching every night so I can't sleep," said Gillespie. "I got a hunch."

Cpl. Slurp spilled his coffee. 'Take your damned hunches and ram them," he said, raising his voice. "They're not taking me in the In- fantry."

"How do you know?" asked Johnson, who never spilled a cup of coffee in his life. "Nobody else knows."

"He's right," said Gilespie. "They won't take him. I saw his form in the orderly room, and it's got disqualifications all the way down."

"I saw it in the shower," said Johnson, "and outside of that spread-out fanny he's in as good shape as anybody."

"You can't tell by looking." grated Slurp. "I get headaches."

"You will," agreed Johnson. "Bigger and better as time goes by." ;

"Let's get out of here." said Gillespie.

In headquarters, a chubby Wac with spectacles was running off mimeograph forms.

'That the order with the Infantry shipment?" asked Slurp.

She nodded disinterestedly and he picked a sheet off the machine.

They were all there.

"I told you, didn't I?" said Gillespie. "Didn't

Digi

I tell you? Didn't I warn you about the hunches? What a deal! All I've done for the Air Corps, they pasture me out You're through; out you go— like that" He snapped his finger.

"Lots of other guys," said Johnson. "What the hell."

"Stupid. A mistake," said Slurp. "What about my headaches. It'll kill me."

"And your big fanny," said Johnson. "They'll whittle it down to skin and bone. We'll be able to see around it What the hell, plenty guys get- ting it."

The sergeant at Camp Howze looked at the latest shipment from the AAF with cold "Fine body of men," he muttered. "Give me] civilians any time. And I could of been in Give me strength."

He looked at a typical member of the tion. "Hey, glamor boy," he said softly, back your shoulders and tuck in your wing

"Never mind the cracks about my ear shot" growled the typical member. "Ywu'r the only noncom around here."

The sergeant opened his eyes to ha If 4 "Give a look," he said with a groan. "So That's all that flies around here, glamor boy.] fly all the time."

Everybody drilled for two solid days.

On the third day the sergeant called tu Slurp. "You like to keep that rating, corp he asked.

"Sure, but not by killing myself with a net," said Slurp.

"You're in luck," said the sergeant. "Tb making you a clerk, so get out of here."

"My experience, I guess," said Slurp lively.

"No," said the sergeant.

"My headaches, maybe."

"Your fat butt," said the sergeant. "Drag out of here."

Gillespie and Johnson watched Slurp v away. Then they looked at each other and as one man.

G-.nwoocj AAF, Alio. -S*t. KNOT W. CAHOON

RETURN FROM FURLOUGH

I have been gone These three weeks. Yet all is the same.

All unchanged.

The barracks hut is cold. The fires are dim. Only a slight flicker Reminds that men sleep here.

Soon in the quiet land. Before the dawn, In tlia. shivering light; They will arise, dress.

And yawning slowly Trudge off to the line. Hello, Nap. Back? How was it?

But I am creeping too. In the darkness. And brightly lit streets Are only a shadow. Dancing women. Only a memory.

Lincoln AAf, N.b, Pfc SAMUEL NAPAKTEK

inal from

Y OF MICHIGAN

mi

GI Tex Rickard

YANK SPORTS

By Sgt. BURTT EVANS YANK Staff Correspondent

Gulf District, Iran — When T-4 Allen La Combe, the Tex Rickard of the Persian Gulf Command, got his greetings in New Orleans several years ago, his reaction was probably different from any selectee's in the LT. S. He threw a party for his draft board.

The blow-out was held in a local night club where Al had connections. There was a floor show, kegs of beer and inexhaustible supplies of liquor. Al invited all the other sad civilians in his quota, too. Some brought their wives. So did some of the Selective Service officials. But this didn't spoil the fun. Everybody imbibed freely and had a hell of a good time. In the small hours of the morning, selectees and draft- board members, sheep and butchers, went roar- ing home arm in arm, pledging beautiful friendships. It was an occasion New Orleans would long remember, as the papers pointed out next day. For La Combe, never a man to miss a trick, had not neglected to invite the news photographers. Even the Army hasn't crimped La Combe's yle much. As manager of the "Flying Long- shoremen," a group of GI boxers at the dusty Army port of Khorramshahr on the Persian Gulf, he made international news not long ago when he challenged S/Sgt. Joe Louis to fight one of the PGC champs. He's still hearing from that one, still getting angry letters from GIs all over the world: "If Joe Louis ever goes to Iran, he'll knock you and that bum of yours right into the middle of the post-war period."

Al took nine PGC champions to Cairo last winter and won seven titles in the Middle East Championships. In the second annual PGC Box- ing Tournament, Al's fighters from Khorram- shahr won eight out of nine titles. Now Al's ready for Cairo again, or, better, the post- war bouts in Berlin.

Promoting boxing in the PGC has its occupa- tional hazards. The tough GI stevedores at Khorramshahr hold La Combe personally re- sponsible for everything that happens at the bouts. Though he was promoter, manager of one of the teams and announcer, Al had no respon- sibility for the judging or refereeing. But after one decision in the preliminaries the other night, Al didn't have a friend in camp. For three days he had to slip into the mess-hall kitchen unobserved to get something to eat. It seems the judges had awarded a close one to a fighter who also happened to be an MP.

YANK The Army Weekly • FEB. 1, 1945

Al's fighters swear by him, and with good reason. When the boxing champs went to Cairo last year, La Combe spent more than $1,000 of his dice winnings so they'd do all right in that inflation-hit city. If there are no trophies avail- able for his champs, Al usually buys them with his own money.

To fighters who get slugged in the eye and come around for sympathy, Al says: "Youse migbta felt that blow in youah eye, but Ah felt it where it hoits most, right chere in mah haht." And he places a reverent hand over his heart. The PGC's smoothest operator actually talks like that, in a rich mixture of Brooklynese and Irish Channel-New Orleans accents. Real Brooklyn boys won't believe him when he says he's never seen the place. He probably picked up the Brooklynese from fighters and managers who hung around promoter Lew Raymond's New Orleans office, where Al first went to work when he was 14.,

La Combe is a dapper fellow with sleek blue- black hair, a round face and innocent brown eyes. In an earlier day, he might have been a faro dealer on a Mississippi steamboat or a croupier in a New Orleans casino. As it is, he does all right with the slippery cubes; he's banked some $4,000 in winnings at the second- most popular GI pastime. He attributes his luck, both at dice and the fights, to a four-leaf clover he always carries in a cellophane case. His girl sent it to him.

The only pin-ups in Al's headquarters, a smoke-filled Service Club office at Khorram- shahr, are of boxers, old and new, champs and never-weres. The place reeks of rubbing alco- hol; three GI trainers work over the boys every night. Just outside the Service Club is a well- lit, fenced-off training arena, with all kinds of boxing equipment.

A few hundred yards away is the "Punch Bowl," Khorramshahr's new boxing stadium, which seats some 5,000 spectators. The former CG here, Maj. Gen. Donald Connolly, never missed the boxing tournament. Other distin- guished visitors to GI fights in this part of the world have included Foreign Secretary Eden and ex-Secretary of State Hull.

All of 23 years old today, Al was known to New Orleans as the "Boy Promoter." He made something of a name for himself running the New Orleans Turkey Bowl football game. He conceived the idea, promoted it for charity, secured flowers for the Queen of the Bowl, sold programs during the halves, announced most of the game and played left end during the fourth quarter. -r

But La Combe's promotional goose was almost cooked very early in his career when he staged a beauty contest to find "Miss Irish Channel" in New Orleans. The girls got talking together before the contest, and they found out Al had promised each one that she would win. There' was a little trouble at first, but La Combe man- aged to pull through and the contest went off as scheduled. Al was heaving a sigh of relief when the grandmother of a losing contestant bore down on him with an umbrella. His left ear still bears the scar.

The Merchant Marine has shifted En*. Charlie Keller from convoy duty in the Atlantic to Pacific waters. He's a ship's purser. . . . Cpl. Roy (Beau) Boll, former Indians', Browns', Tigers' and everybody's outfielder, now has a Germany APO. . . Neither S Sgt Joe Louis nor S Sgt. Joe DiMag- gio wears his overseas ribbons at public appear- ances, if that means anything. . . . Old-timers at West Point recall that It. Gen. George S. Potton Jr. broke his arm three times while playing foot- ball and busted his studies once. . . . Maj. Billy Southworth Jr., who completed 50 missions over Germany in B-17s, is now flying a B-29 and headed for you-know-where. . . . Frenchman Marcel Thil, the ex-middleweight champion, was twice decorated for his work with the FF1. He is now in the coal and wood business and serves as a part-time athletic instructor for the French Army. ... If his eyes are strong enough, "Par- son" Gil Dodds, the U. S. mile champ, will go to sea as Navy chaplain instead of doing missionary work in China. . . . Ll. Cornelius Warmerda(n will be shipping out soon as an athletic officer aboard an aircraft carrier. Also shipping: CPO Don Dur- don, Oregon State's Rose Bowl hero against Duke, who starred with Bainbridge in 1944. Killed in action: Pvt. Ed Stecz, former Temple

SPORTS SERVICE RECORD

football ace, in Germany: U. Tom Wilson, son of baseball's Jimmy Wilson, in the Pacific after previously being reported missing from a B-29 mission; It. Richard Schmon, former Princeton football captain, in France. . . . Wounded in ac- tion: Sgt. Hector Kilrea, who starred with Detroit and Toronto in the National Hockey League, in France when machine-gun fire hit him in the leg and hand. . . . Commissioned: CPO Bob Olin, one-time light heavyweight boxing champion, as an ensign in the Merchant Marine. . . . Pro- moted: It. Cmdr. Matty Bell, SMU's former coach, as a full commander at the Georgia Navy Pre- Flight School. . . . Discharged: It. Col. Tun Mc- laughry, Dartmouth football coach in 1941-42, from the Marines because he is over age. . . . Ordered for induction: Mel Queen, 26-year-old Yankee pitcher, and Clyde (Bulldog) Turner, Chi- cago Bears' center, both by the Army. ... Ap- pointed; Earl (Jug) Girard, Wisconsin's running and passing star, to West Point.

Gooele

BOXING LESSON. This bit of business with on open the few tricks Cpl. Fritiie Zivic Billy Arnold during their eight-

LET'S BASH THAT CAP IN, LIEUTENANT, OR WE MAY FIND OURSELF

WALKING AGAIN.

-fyl. Willord G. levila.

"IT'S FROM MY OLD MAN. HE WANTS TO KNOW COULD I SEND HIM SOME CIGARETTES." c»i til tea*.

1. Send Me YANK

YANK will fellow you wherever you go with strictly Gl now* and views from around the globe.

2. Send YANK Home

Mail yourself a copy at homo. Havo the homo folks savo it for you till tho shooting's over.

SEND YANK BY MAIL TO:	SEND YANK BY MAIL TO:
Nam* and rank	YOUR noma and rank
Military adoVoM	Car* of parantt, wife, etc.

CHECK: Now f ] or Renewal

City and itote

PHASE INDICATE ONE VEA" ,SSUlS> a *2 00 fLCMic (WWIB v4 MONTHS (26 ISSUES) Q $1.00

Ooirb'e above anMMtl ror two lublcnprronf Encioea ckack or money order and moil to.

YANK, The Army Weekly, 205 E. 42d Street, New York 17, N. Y.

. SUBSCRIPTIONS ARE ACCEPTED ONLY FOR MEMBERS OF THE ARMED FORCES OR DISCHARGED VETERANS OF THIS WAR

'THIS'LL GIVE THE BASIC FUNDAMENTALS OF JET PROPULSION."

- M/Soi Tad Millar

HE ARMY fa* M WEE

'BUT YOU HAVE TO ADMIT HE DID LOOK LIKE A DAME"

— Cpl Micho«l Pone* d* I eon

Original from UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN