VIEWS ON WAR ARE SERIOUS
But now when we have crawled through the days of wet and slush our only prospect is the army camp or something equally military. True, we will be glad finally to feel we are really in the war. It is not the thought of having to go to war that causes the present morbidity. But the feeling we have towards entering the conflict is a grim one, a serious one. It is not the former feeling of looking forward to a carefree, lazy summer, that lightened the boredom of the bleak days of thaw.
The general mood is not helped by the constant departure of friends and classmates. An average of six students a day are leaving the campus. Such a number adds up to an impressive total as the months go by. With this steady dribble of departing undergraduates going on unceasingly, it is more demoralizing than a large group all resigning at once. It occasions a neverending round of farewell parties in almost every fraternity. This is a repeated stimulus to the restlessness. When day after day friend after friend sells his books and furniture it is a teasing temptation for one to start packing his own suitcase.
However, all was not so depressing. There were breaks in the air of despondency.
First of all, though it wasn't a very romantic event, the College became the victim of a remarkably devastating epidemic of measles—and they would be German measles! An already overworked hospital staff had plenty to cope with. Each day more and more men would wander in with a pale face and other disturbing and portentious symptoms. Sure enough, in a little while the inevitable rash appeared. Finally, with no more space in Dick's House, evacuated Gile Hall was made into a temporary haven for the sufferers. But the lads did not suffer much. As Gile entertained no one but measle cases, all the patients in that building were free to intermingle at will. And so in their ridiculous hospital night shirts, or whatever the things are called, they paraded blithely up and down the halls, visiting one another, playing cards, throwing parties and occupying themselves in other sundry pleasantries to relieve the tedium. It was a nice relaxation from horrid hour exams and classroom routine. But all good things come to an end, and as the German measles only last about five days, the holiday was short lived. Somehow, though, before they had retired to the confines of the measle ward, most had managed to hand on their little disease to some deserving friend so that the supply of patients was always replenished and the happy company was ever varied with new faces. New arrivals are apparently appearing regularly even as this is being written, so perhaps we will all get a chance to join the measles clique.
Another thing that assuaged the monotony of the melting snow was the bountiful supply of rumors the campus was able to provide during the month. First, there was the Robert Taylor rumor. This was a beautiful rumor. It grew and grew like Jack-in-the-Bean-Stalk till it had attained the status of conviction. It went something like this: Robert Taylor, the cinema idol of a million shop girls, was coming to Hanover as part of the Naval unit stationed here. God knows where it started but even the Navy men began to believe it. Everyone wrote home about it and everyone planned to stand at the entrance to the Navy mess hall and watch the great star march in to eat.
The momentous day came when the new company of Navy trainees arrived and the air buzzed with hope. There was a wistful anticipation that perhaps the star would bring along his wife, Barbara Stanwyck. But, alas, we were doomed to disappointment. Neither of the pair arrived.
It seems there was a Robert Taylor among the group, but he was not the Robert Taylor. And so it goes. Well, Yale thought they were going to get Clark Gable, so there.
Then there was the College-closing-tilJuly rumor and the College-running-right-through-to-July rumor. As all the men in the Navy or Marine Reserves are to be called to active duty on July Ist, undergraduates began to worry about the value of the semester now scheduled to begin in May and that would be only partially completed by July. Most students enthusiastically rooted for the scheme of having the College close for a couple of months at this semester's close till active duty began. Naturally, not many cheered for the idea of having an intensive 8-week semester that would run right on at the end of the present term. Then, of course, a group favored the set-up that is now in order. Whatever will happen, at this moment the whole idea is a marvelous source of speculation and the chatter goes on continually.
Successful basketball and hockey teams were another factor in cheering low spirits. An undefeated hockey team was extremely heartening and the basketball team's sixth straight Eastern Intercollegiate League title kept the sports fans rightfully raving for the deserving athletes.
Variety Night, a musical show of acts and skits, was presented in combination with the Navy. The almost-three-hour show was a happy success. The last three Variety Nights have become more or less the property of one "Doc" Fielding '43, who as Master of Ceremonies is in everything and does practically everything in the way of entertainment. Fielding also ran the very popular "jam sessions" of last summer. He has become the College's comedian and entertainer-in-chief, and by all odds deserves his title.
The Class of '44 held its elections and they were not so successful. Only 150 of the class turned up at a meeting at which President Hopkins outlined the need for a strong class unity to carry it through the war years. The next day the ballot box was open for nominations. Not one was cast. Vitriolic editorials appeared in TheDartmouth. Response was more fruitful the following day and the '44s were able to elect their class officers after all. The attitude was certainly not very admirable, though. It was hard to impress upon the undergraduate about to be drafted the very important future value that Dartmouth will have for him.
To sum up, one cannot say it has been a joyful month. The "I'll be glad when it's over" thought dominated most minds. And the attitude can hardly be blamed. Perhaps when someone sees that first robin things will brighten. For now, let's blame it on the weather.
SECOND SENIOR CLASS ELECTION IN FOUR MONTHS Bill Benoist '44 of Winnetka, 111., (seated left) and Wiley Hitchcock '44 of BloojnfieldHills, Mich, (right), Palaeopitus members, preside over the ballot box on a snowy March6 as seniors elect a secretary-chairman, a treasurer, and an executive council.
FORERUNNER TO REAL THING IN ARMY MOUNTAIN TROOPS Members of the Dartmouth student ski patrol get a demonstration of how to make asledge for the wounded or injured from nothing more than a pair of skis, ski poles, aregulation pack, and a few straps. This original arrangement is the invention of their"instructor, Lieut. Piltti Heiskanen, former Finnish army officer, who is shown explaininghow simple it all is.
