'Round the Girdled Earth

A HEARTENING LETTER came from Lt.Richard Shedden '41 describing howhe got an enemy submarine somewhere inthe Caribbean area.

A letter from Hanover is like manna from Heaven down here as it brings back, to be trite about it, some of the happiest days of my life. And the thought of snow makes me almost sick with nostalgia.

I have now put in almost two years in the Caribbean area, stationed in various islands of the West Indies. Ever since the war started we have been flying, almost daily, anti-submarine patrols. It is tough work, boring and tiresome, a daily search of an empty ocean usually.

Every once in a while we are rewarded by a crack at a sub though, so it is worth all the time we spend seeing nothing but water.

I've gotten one sub and a "probable" on another.

The sensation of sighting and attacking a sub is quite something.

I was on a night patrol of a convoy when I got mine. We had gone out at 2 a.m., and the sky was just getting light in the East when we picked her up. It was just barely light enough to silhouette her, cruising along, decks awash as we came out of the West.

They never did see us at all until we were right over her bow with our bomb doors open. I dropped 4 depth charges right beside her bow, and they exploded before she even had a chance to crash-dive. Score—one sub for the Class of 1941. It was perfect! I couldn't ask for a better crack at one or for a better job of bombing by our bombardier.

Such chances are few and far between, however, still, someone has to do the flying here, so we're not kicking. But soon, we hope, those of us who have around 2 years service here will get a chance in a more active zone of combat.

WILLIAM M. BRONK JR. '38 won quitea reputation as a poet when he was at Dartmouth and this letter indicates that he hasnot lost his touch and that,in fact, the warhas deepened his perception. As this is being written Bill is attending officer's training at Fort Munroe, Virginia.

I have been in the army for nearly two years now, spending three quarters of that time, peacefully, in foreign service. As you see I am back in the States now going to an Officer Candidate school for the commission which I at length decided I was willing to accept if the army were willing to grant it. I find myself with plenty of ideas about the army and about the war, some of them rather different from those I had previously held to; but I also find myself with too little time to compose these ideas into anything which would fairly tell you what I am thinking about. I am sending you, instead, three pieces of verse written since I have been in the service, which will give you facets, at least, of my recent experience, and if you don't get thereby the whole Picture, you will be at only a very little more of a toss than I am myself.

One thing of which I do feel very certain is the very real and strong fraternity of the men I have been with; and if there is anything to compensate for so complete an uprooting and breaking of our lives as we have each undergone, anything to make it indeed almost a breaking and uprooting to be rejoiced in rather than sorrowed over, it is the forcible discovery of the deep identity of our desires whatever various forms they may have taken before and may no doubt take again.

THE GULLS AT LONGBIRD ISLAND

That which we get so hardly these birds have, And still will have it after we have lost.

Now, in a grounding wind Above the planes, they barely move their wings, they glide, they play in the wind.

Poor stupid birds, stuff of the stubborn stuff, insensitive to what we do, or fail to do.

FOR TOM AS A WRESTLER AND HUNTER

Though you have met with wonder in the strong morning, rising from night;

And been summoned to fear as to the fateful court, and answered the charge;

You may not happen, ever, to wrestle with angels. No, you will not.

In the white winter, rabbits are your quarry, pheasants in autumn.

And in the spring, the trout stream cold and hungry, devours the snow.

You find the vulnerable game of your desires, Your wife never starves.

Your gentle body flows in a single line, resistant as rubber.

Who shall compress you ever, from your own shape.

TO ONE MORE RICH IN HOPEFEATURED LIKE HIM

You were the bright image in my mirror, we were so like.

When I, a different Narcissus, found you in the clear fountain,

I was so slow To recognize myself, not this time riddled with my own searching,

Leveled with low, circumstantial bomb-falls. Then seeing us like,

I added freely from you to myself, lifting and rounding,

Watching you daily, I reached out toward the wonderful picture.

A THOUGHTFUL and most interestingletter has come in to me from Lieutenant Rob Roy Carruthers '42. It deserves to be printed in full and save forpersonal references here it is:

It's been quite awhile since I last had the treat of being up in Hanover and it's been just as long since I've seen you. My Father wrote and enclosed your letter and a copy of the one he forwarded to you. First, I'd like to tell you that I was very happy to hear from you in this fashion, exceedingly happy and I've spent all afternoon thinking over what I'd like to say to you. There are a lot of things running through my mind, Herb, and to mention them ail would take all night.

Fred Eaton and I have been together for the past fifteen months and as you can well imagine no less than scores of times have we sat chatting about the old times and the life we knew at. college. Whether at Port Moresby, Darwin, New Caledonia, or any place we happened to be, our thoughts would often turn back to Dartmouth And your letter brought out many of these into words that filled the bill. You have hit the nail on the head and I' don't believe there are any of us who have ever doubted one word of it. If so, there will be no more doubting after having read what you had to say It is something deep, not to be reckoned with lightly, yet not giving the impression of something formidable but rather something human and understanding. It cannot be measured for it is measureless to me and to all of us.

The day after Pearl Harbor I had occasion to run into Sox Freeman '40 and Soup Campbell '41. They too had been around when the fireworks hit the place and after 24 hours of hard work they brought upon us realization of what had occurred, what did they have to say to me as I came upon them? "Well Roy, you're on your own now." Perhaps, but with a few things I chanced to remember from my shortened days at Hanover, I honestly believe I felt rather proud. I think I had a right to feel so. It was a credit to me and to the college. I'm on my own now and let's see what can be done. Well„ that was quite awhile ago, but I haven't forgotten.. None of us have. College does a lot for a boy besides giving him the elements of an education. It makes him a man. And the American colleges can look with pride upon the results their men are giving. I've seen a bit of what the American boy can do and I've yet to see who can equal him.

Right now Fred (Eaton) is at San Antonio on a cross country flight but as soon as he's back I'll show him your letter, if he doesn't find one in his box.

There is a lot to see in the world, Herb, as you know, and I thank the Lord that I've had the opportunity of realizing this even if I have not absorbed what I've seen. Travel, even in wartime, brings out a lot of interesting things to the newcomer and more of it would no doubt help all of us.

I've run into about a dozen Dartmouth boys since the war started in Australia, and Hawaii mostly and always there was a note of something or other which kindled that common flame that burns so brightly among us all.

I don't think that you can stress too much what you have touched on relating to the spirit of knowledge and education in the world today. I believe that the major sin, and the chief cause of our great difficulty lies in ignorance of a great many people. The thirst for knowledge should always be gratified, the desire for it should always be encouraged and in time to come people will improve themselves and develop their own initiative and interest to the extent that a recurrence of today's backward slip might not be.

Looking over some of the paramount evils and miserable conditions of the world, the need for improving our methods and our approaches to education stands out like a sore thumb. For this precious medium of progress and understanding must be elevated to the pedestal where it justly belongs. Could Italy have been any better off today if she had possessed a few unselfish men who, seeing the great need in their country for an educational system had so impressed that upon the people that each and every one of them had begun to regard it as their sacred duty to be informed about the issues of their nation, and to so force their interest upon the government that conditions would not have given rise to such a mess, and the darkness and doubt which is a prerequisite to a mass delusion would never have existed. She certainly would be no worse off and I'm confident she'd be a lot better off. But this is only one case. The same is true of other nations, of people, of corporations, of clubs, of all social structures who rely on the power of propaganda. The day will surely come when these conditions are erased, just as surely as the day will end when one man has a million dollars and a million men are penniless. Don't think I'm getting radical, Herb, but to me these things are inherently wrong and will not survive.

I recently wrote to one of my studentsJAY C. GRIFFITH JR. '42, and the following letter, in part, came to me from hisfather. I think it worth printing and, I fear,there will be others like it. Jay had been reported "missing in action."

I did receive a letter from a young officer only last week whose home is in Brookline, Mass. saying he was on the Vincennes and had become quite well acquainted with Jay. It was discouraging but will give us all an idea of what happened. He said Jay had been in the air practically all the while on August 7th and Bth and had done a superb job at directing landings of Marines. He had returned to the boat about 8 p.m. at which time he talked with him. It seems the airplanes were placed on the center of the top deck and the observers and pilots were stationed near them. The first enemy fire hit the planes and set them afire. Then there was a salvo of fire from the enemy and to the best of his knowledge all those near were killed instantly.

He (the officer) was on the 2nd deck, and was badly wounded and afterward in a hospital in San Francisco for two months and is still on furlough, but raring to go back and hopes to be leaving soon. He praised Jay highly, said he had been given one of the most important tasks to perform of the landing forces, and had done a superb job. He said Jay had developed into the best and most accurate map man on the cruiser, all Of which makes us more proud of him.

SGT. JERRY TALLMER '42, of the U. S.Army Air Forces, writes from some tropicalbase. I use excerpts.

The boys and I are sitting down here in the jungles sweating out the war. Do a lot of flying but it's not the kind you read about. Our ships are the kind you send off to the Museum of Science and Industry with a brief note of apology Still, they are army bombers, and I do fly, and I do wear wings, and that's what I wanted and this was the only way I could get those things, so I'm grateful. I dream of Fortresses and Liberators and it's a mighty slim chance but who knows?

Our job is both defensive and offensive—protection from and attack against the sub. The increasing monotony of not seeing any may be a good or bad sign. All you can say about it is that this is a job, like all the rest of them. With less proximity to sudden death than any of the big shows—and altogether no glamour. It's a job, and it's your duty, so we do it. There may come a day—we all (I think) hope so. I might be very sorry later, but now, I, too, hope for an eventual crack at the real war.

In addition to flying, I do an increasing amount of ground maintenance of special equipment. This is hard work and thankless, but quite interesting it's sort of your ability against the blasted tendency of the stuff to go haywire—especially in this immense, continuous and devastating humidity. What is really bad is that the more ground work we have to do, the less flying we can get in. I hope, eventually, that we will get our ground station rolling effectively enough to insure us as much flying as we'd like. As a matter of fact, flying is all I can say I do like, but I hardly have my choice in the matter.

As for the base—it's a good one—best of any I've seen in this general area. This is an old Army outfit, and I think you'll understand what that means the average civilian won't The men down here are nearly all 2-3 year veterans in the Tropics, and while the sun has cooked out the brains and guts of some of the group, most are still happy to be alive.

My life is fine and I'm glad to be a soldier and my outfit is a good one, although rarely do I think of the "outside" things, and then most briefly, the war—this war—comes first, always, and even from here you can see it's a good fight and you can feel damn good to be a part of it.

Conscientious Objector

BUD HEWITT '40, U. S. Army, in a let ter to the Editor said: "I am enclosinga very significant letter from Brad Rowland'40, who roomed with me the first year and ahalf before dropping out of school. You andI are always reading about the exploits ofour alumni in uniform but we do not realizethe tough battle some of the conscientiousobjectors are having in holding to their principles. As a man who gave up a lot in civilianlife I have more or less resented men whowouldn't get into uniform to fight for theircountry, but now Brad's letter makes me respect such idealists whereas before I sneeredat them. It would be nice if you could findspace to quote his viewpoint in whole or inpart, for it would give us respect for the accomplishments of Dartmouth men who arenot in uniform. It's a picture of another phaseof combat which hasn't as yet appeared in the ALUMNI MAGAZINE."

Abstracts from Brad Rowland's letter follow: The full title of our position is, "Conscientious Objector," classification 4E, assigned to "Work, of National Importance" in "Civilian Public Service" under the direction of the American Friends Service Committee. We are responsible to General Hershey and Paul McNutt above him. On work project we are responsible to the agency we are under, Forest Service, Soil Conservation Service, Dept. of Interior or whatever.

The Friends find that it costs approximately $35.00 a month to keep a fellow in camp. This is paid either by the boy himself, his church, or the Friends. (The Friends have taken the responsibility for all who cannot pay or find support.) Each month, we receive $2.50 of the $35.00 for spending money. This is our only cash income. We are supposed to supply all our clothes, medical attention, etc. But in reality, the Friends have supplied more and more of this. As yet, I have been able to keep myself, through gifts, money from home, and using furloughs, which we accumulate at the rate of 2 1/2 days a month, to get a job.

The work program is probably the chief cause of contention in C.P.S. Personally, I like it. It has been an introduction to a whole realm of activity that I never knew before. The good sense inherent in the use of common tools, the mastering of them so that they don't tire you, learning the right order of procedure for the simplest jobs, have been a day to day delight arid awakening to me. Every experience in plumbing and carpentry, the use of axe and felling saw, has been meaningful, hence worthwhile. We erected 13 miles of telephone line this summer. A fascinating job! I think that I could direct the work now quite efficiently. Furthermore, this work is exactly the kind that will be needed for reconstruction work and my future work in the South. Hence, I'm happy because the activities which take most of our time satisfy me.

But I am in a very small minority in camp. Fellows are greatly anxious to get into work of greater service, meeting problems made by the war. They look for reconstruction work abroad, ambulance service, and work that has a more directly human factor. There is a malaria and hook worm eradication project in Florida, and one in Puerto Rico. Places there are in great demand. Fellows in New England are allowing themselves to be infested with non-typhus bearing lice, and living for a couple of months without changing clothes or taking a bath to simulate conditions in peasant homes. This was done to test the effectiveness of some lice killing powders newly made. Some other fellows are on a diet of seawater to test its toxity. The largest number of fellows on "Detached Service" are working as attendants in mental and general hospitals. Some boys are on farms.

I agree with fellows on the need for work of greater service. But I am given patience by recognizing our position of disfavor, and knowing the government's hesitancy to have C.O's in currency now.

Boys range from religious fundamentalists off the farm to radical laborites and socialists. There are those liberals from the college and city who drink and smoke with little thought about it. Most boys from the rural areas dislike these habits and judge fellows by them. This does not lend toward group unity.

There is no commonly accepted goal for the camps. Some want a religious community. To some, democracy is most important. Others think that the camps never should have been started in the first place and rebel at being under the Quakers. Working for a day does not increase satisfaction.

Without doubt, the greatest percentage of the boys who have made a good adjustment are the boys from the farm. But fellows from city and college, unused to physical work, and with no interest in it, are objectors—loud and articulate.

But good values are coming through to each one's advantages and growth, if not for the world's service. The sharing of experience and backgrounds is truly a profound educational experience. Religion has new meanings to me. I have come to realize what it means in some fellows' eyes, and understand them better. I have new respect for the word conscience, because I have met some few truly enlightened men of good-will. Democracy, its meaning and difficulties are in the fore-front now of minds that before never seriously considered the word.

And the prospects are fairly bright. I have been chosen as an applicant to teach in a Japanese Internment Camp. I may go to a camp that will specialize in the study of Consumer Cooperatives. Ten men are at Columbia studying "Administration for Post War Reconstruction." There is a proposal for a Princeton Study Group to devise concrete suggestions for methods of reconstruction. An ambulance unit is proposed.

Closing remark, for emphasis, is that fellows are above par. They are a cross-section, but really the best bunch I've known.

LT. TOM DUNLEVY '41 USAShown on the island of New Caledonia inthe South Pacific shortly before he was ordered to Guadalcanal. See letter on opposite page.