1934
It's pretty obvious how serious this manpower situation is, when they have had to dig down deep in the bag and come up with a country boy to handle this column. What's going to make it even worse is that this part of the country doesn't produce enough news about '34 to fill a postcard, much less a monthly column. Honest, guys, you've got to help me out. There must be lots to tell. In looking through the old records which were passed on to me, I found most of the available information was as out of date as the class photos. Unless the letters start swarming in, I'll have to resort to telling you the cute sayings of my two kids. As a matter of fact, they get off some mighty good stuff. As an example, just the other day. . . . but maybe I'd better save that for a later issue. A couple of my cub reporters have turned up some news of interest.
Bill Knibbs gets the credit for being the first man in with his class dues, and a note that he was to report at Quonset, R. 1., for indoctrination into the Navy on August 31. Swede Lindstrom comes up with a very swell letter, after too long a silence. Still in the tea business for Mr. Jewel he reports, "Made a flying trip to New York a couple of weeks ago and saw Les Reeve He has changed very little during the last nine years, and except for a rapidly developing head of skin, two fine kids, and a victory garden, is about the same as he was in Hanover."
From the Chicago area also comes words that Tom Hicks is having to work overtime to feed two swell boys, neither yet large enough to tote his golf bag or cut his lawn, but naturally being groomed for such chores. Bob Oare is a lieutenant (jg) stationed at Great Lakes at present, and the proud papa of a boy that will be about four months old when this goes to press. (Is that correct Bob? My informant was a little hazy about the sex.) "Rewolta" George Cogswell was inducted into the Army the early part of July, and at last report was trying to land in the Signal Corps, so he could take advantage of all he learned during the last several years with the Illinois Bell Telephone Co.
The latest bit of information available on Jack was that he was in Great Britain and, I believe, a full lieutenant in the Navy. Jill, his wife, tells of how he managed to take his captain's car to the right place at the wrong time (without the captain) and now has had some practice walking for a few weeks. Otherwise, he has been keeping out of trouble from an organization standpoint, although he has been seeing plenty of service in the Atlantic. While on the subject of Fogarty, I must give notice to a protest by Lindstrom and, therefore, I quote the Swede again: "One of the greatest justifications of the ALUMNI MAGAZINE has always been its use as a medium in announcing the births of the young hopefuls of the Dartmouth brothers. I told Bill Knibbs that on one occasion when I announced the arrival of our little girl along with Jack Fogarty's. Bill gave Jack's Johanna all the headlines and failed to mention our Nancy. I'll take that up with him when this mess is over." And just in case you missed it in Scherm's Newsletter, William Woodward Embry let out his first yell (but definitely not his last) on the night of April 22.
Seymour Dunn now a lieutenant (jg) in the Navy added more glory to '34 by finishing second in his class at the school of Naval Aerial Navigation at the University of Miami, Coral Gables, Fla. This summer too, has had its share of weddings. Miss Dorothy K. Redmond became Mrs. Bill Gibson on June 19 at New Rochelle, N. Y. Incidentally, Dr. Bill is now on the staff of New Rochelle Hospital, Grasslands Hospital, and the New York Eye and Ear Hospital. On May 25 Miss Mildred Goldfaden was married to Dr. Frank Engle in New York. They are now living in New Haven (or at least they were, the last I heard) where Frank is with the department of physiological chemistry at Yale. Just a few days earlier in New York Miss Alice Claire Helmlinger was married to Jack Odell; May 20 I believe was the exact date.
While passing through St. Louis a few weeks ago, I had time to sip a few beers with Hugh Logan who is now with Marsh & McLennan, peddling annuities. He reported that young George Logan, now age three and one half, was doing well, and would soon have a brother (or a sister) (or both) to play with. Hugh also passed on a letter which he had just received from Tom Beers, that has so much good dope crowded into it that I'm going to break all rules of good reporting and quote it intoto if the military censors will permit.
"The last ALUMNI MAGAZINE (to reach me) had in it your best guess as to my whereabouts, and if it hadn't been for the fact that I am so far from your guess, I'd have had a good laugh. As it is, I hope you are a better guesser of insurance, for you missed by about 6000 miles, in round numbers. Also, please to notice that as of October 1 last, I have two stripes to lug around, so knock of this jg stuff. My ship left the States .... and we arrived at this God-forsaken hole about seven weeks later, by way of. . . . . Saw Shoe Foley, thanks to an odd combination of circumstances. Was about to look him up when the crew brought me a local paper to look over. On the society page was a picture of Mrs. E. J. Foley, complete in bridal veil and all the trimmings. From then on it was a breeze. I called up Shoe's ma-in-law, got his wife, and after a couple of days, we got together. The new wife is very much all-right, as you'd expect from Shoe, although she needs a lot of indoctrination with regard to Hanover. We gave her a good solid evening of it, as you can imagine. The trip out was quite a junket, what with my learning to navigate en route. I did all right, though, and now have no fears except that our so-called chronometer is about as reliable as a water clock, and our sights have to be timed by my wrist watch. The ship was a rough baby, and for days on end we rolled, eating little, sleeping less, due to a continual roll of about forty degrees, each way. After a couple of days no one was seasick; all hands were too tired, and as the skipper, I was plenty worried for fear we would all fold before we hit port to rest up. But we learned a lot, and the green crew that came on board the morning I took command is a rough tough bunch of seamen now. We're right where the shooting goes on, and while we haven't done any ourselves, we have seen plenty. Air raids are so much a habit that we go to General quarters in our sleep, and it doesn't bother us a bit. The AA at night puts on a great show, and keeps the Japs so high that they really can't do much good for themselves. So far one man has been tagged by a piece of shrapnel which dented his tin hat, and that is the extent of our casualties. It's all right with me if we don't get any closer, too, for the Japs are using real bullets. Our duty is chiefly supply, and we do all sort of things to get the stuff where it is needed. In the last few days we have had on board a lot of survivors from other ships. They had some wild tales to tell, and I suspect all of them had a modicum of truth about them. Prize crack—my quartermaster came up to me with a puzzled look in his eye and jerked his head toward an officer survivor, sporting a full beard, burned feet, and a phony accent, plus a wild look. Says Wheels, "Captain, I think that guy is crazy." Says my exec, a true Southern gentleman, "H he ain't crazy, he just went to Harvard."
You should be lucky you're still in the States, Hugh. Hope you can stay there. Best regards .... Tom."
Secretary and. Treasurer, General Box Co. 816 S. 16th St., Louisville 1, Ky.
