WOMEN OF DARTMOUTH
Distaff Division, Always Loyal, Steps to Fore in War
THE WAR has done some astounding things to colleges. Harvard for, example, has gone co-educational pro tem, with Radcliffe girls and Harvard subserviceites sitting side by side in Harvard classrooms with Harvard profs upon the pulpit. This strange situation makes me one of the first Dartmouth men, if not, perhaps, the very first, to send a daughter to Harvard—a wry distinction, unquestionably.
But sundry things have likewise happened to our own, and you might be amazed to know that our super-masculine confederation has a powerful lot of the feminine in it in these times. You might as well stand advised that the back stage part of our show would be in a bad way without it, too.
This is a straight salute to Dartmouth's Distaff Division. The head-dress sweeps low. While the Men of Dartmouth are truly 'round the girdled earth, they keep the altar flame.
It didn't take any war to bring into focus the fact that a solid part of our strength as a body has been the loyalty and affection of Dartmouth wives, mothers and sisters to the College as a college. This has been shown in many ways and through a great many years. But the war has brought this loyalty into a new sort of focus. It's brought a translation into definite service.
Not to try to sound inspirational about it, or anything, but Dartmouth, in these times, is definitely not in town again. Nor is it even at home. Of the 21,000 known living alumni, 7500 are on the seas, in the air or with the ground forces. Statistics covering the other multiplied thousands in war work, in Washington, on foreign soil in civilian, but service-connected, posts are as yet incomplete, but they are impressive.
That means class officers, class agents, alumni contact men are gone—are gone, in some cases, to the far and long-forgotten ends of the earth. Part of the labors' they left were their labors of love in connection with the College. The College, and different activities of the College, depend heavily upon these. In many cases, there was nobody to pick up and carry on—no classmate, that is, sufficiently familiar with the routine.
That's where the Distaff Division quietly moved to the fore. In more cases, I guess, than anybody knew, it was the wife, or the mother or the sister, who typed those Class Notes to the ALUMNI MAGAZINE, who mailed out the post cards and handled things generally. Many more than one of them simply went ahead doing it the way Joe, or Fred or Jack always had done, or, at least, had always received admiring credit from his brethren for doing.
They are the gals who have held us together. Without 'em at the moment we'd be drawing plenty of blanks. They're strictly volunteers. Nobody recruited 'em. Nobody, to make an honest confession, was that smart. Their assistance is making itself felt in a great many ways, but just to consider one-take the ALUMNI MAGAZINE.
The College rightly looks upon the MAGAZINE as its main line of communication with the alumni body wherever it is. That goes double now, with the men scattered all over the world. From all evidence at hand the men afield seem doubly anxious to receive it, too.
Word keeps coming back. An Army doctor, riding in an open car in North Africa, tells how he suddenly ran into a frisky wind and was suddenly annoyed by a piece of paper blowing against his face. He crumpled the sheet and started to throw it away, but a look at it revealed that it was a page from the DARTMOUTH ALUMNI MAGAZINE. Instead of pitching it, he thereupon folded it with considerable reverence for later careful, and, he said, enjoyable reading.
In another case, a Dartmouth man wrote that he pushed into a primitive place in the South Pacific to find that the MAGAZINE and a Sears Roebuck catalogue were carefully guarded as the only reading matter in the place.
Well, it takes a lot of things to get out the DARTMOUTH ALUMNI MAGAZINE. The Class Notes are really the feature that knits the brethren together. That's where the girls have come through for the guys. Sometimes, they have actually written the columns. Take Barbara Cardozo, of the Class of '39. At least Pete Cardozo was of that tong and this is the Missus.
Pete was supposed to be pinch hitting for Bob Gibson, when he suddenly had to leave on a long trip, himself. The trusty Barbara came to bat and cleared the bases with the regular monthly installment set up as a letter to her husband.
"Dear Peter Cardozo," it began "When I married you just one year ago today, it was 'for better or for worse,' but the min- ister didn't say anything about your going away and leaving me to write your darned old class notes for the ALUMNI MAGAZINE.
Yeah, I know. You said it would be easy this month. November was to be '39 Night all over the country. There would be dinners and speeches and lots of beer. The boys would all write to me and let me know who was there, what they said, and how much they had to drink. It was going to be easy. I could bake a cake with one hand and write the column with the other. Yeah?
And then she went on in such a charming and informative way-that so far as the Class went, she could have had the job until Gabriel blows his horn. In fact, there was some squawking when the males took back over.
That was possibly the outstanding case of by-line contribution, and it was profferred by an extremely talented young woman, but there's been a lot of other help. Much of it comes in in the form of letters from the ladies, quoting letters they've received from the strange and censored places.
This typical one came in awhile back: "Gentlemen:—As a former satisfied customer of a Winter Carnival and the sister of an alumnus I should like to demonstrate my continuing interest in Dartmouth by passing on to you some information which you may be able to use in the ALUMNI MAGAZINE.
"My brother, now Lt. Bruce Lemmon Jr. ('38), is in charge of a heart and lung ward of an advance base hospital in the South Pacific. He reports that a general, Class of '15, (whose identity you can perhaps figure out) had entertained the eight or 10 Dartmouth men in the area at a dinner which was so successful that he had promised to repeat it each month. Bruce's last letter said:
" 'Last night we had a second Dartmouth dinner at the General's with nine present, including Dick Thirlby and a classmate of mine I didn't know was in the area. We had a jolly time and a delicious dinner of pigeon, salad of papaya and other fruit with cocoanut milk, native pumpkin, which is sweet and very tasty, ice cream and cake. We don't get maudlin and sing a lot of school songs (although I admit I would enjoy. it), but we enjoy reminiscing and being with some new personalities.'
"Incidentally, Bruce has a two month old daughter, Natalie Louise. She is at present residing at home in Berwick, Pa. with her mother, the former Dorothy Shaw Spangler.
Very sincerely yours,
Martha Lou Lemmon."
The women folks help tremendously in these times when the accent is upon military matters.by sending information about promotions, decorations and service activities which probably could be collected in no other way. They are, too, extremely cooperative in sending or lending photographs and snapshots of husbands and sons mailed home from abroad.
Too, they help in another all-important way. That's in getting the MAGAZINE out to where the men are. Materials for new address plates are no longer available, and even if they were the men change addresses so often that it would be next to impossible to keep up with them from the Hanover end. So the MAGAZINE uses the permanent home addresses of all alumni readers, relying upon the wives and mothers to do the rest. And they do it. It costs them 50 more postage, but they evidently consider that a minor matter.
That's the MAGAZINE. I mention it first, only because these phases of its making and distribution are really something new with the war. In the other, and heavier fields, of Alumni Fund raising, Class Organization, Alumni Club activities and all, the ladies have probably been helping their laddiebucks sub-rosa, all along. But, here too, the war has brought some grand stories into the open.
It didn't take the war, in the case of Bud Walls '38, and his mother, Mrs. Ewart G. Walls of Chicago. Three years ago, just as the Fund campaign began, Bud was in a bad automobile smash-up, which eventually cost him the sight of one eye. His mother came to the rescue of her son, the Fund and the College. Mother and injured son teamed together and ran the campaign for the Class. The campaign was successful. In Hanover, they call that an example of devotion and loyalty unsurpassed in the history of such events.
But it was war in the case of Ruth Adams Rockwell, wife of Rocky Rockwell '35, former DOC leader and assistant class agent. When Rocky entered the Navy,
Ruth stepped into his place, and during the last campaign the Class of 1935 carried her as a regular member of the Class committee, listing her name on the Class letterhead and making her, just maybe, the only woman in Dartmouth history thus publicized.
A letter from her incidentally paints another story of devotion. Endeavoring to deprecate her contribution, she writes, "You see, my husband, at sea on a PT boat, wrote drafts of the letters to go out to the '35ers .... I merely typed them and sent them out." Picture a classmate aboard one of those maritime mustangs, composing letters to the brethren about the Alumni Fund?
As it chances, Ruth Adams Rockwell is practically as Dartmouth as any lady could conveniently manage to get.
"Ever since we were married in 1939," she writes, "I have helped my husband with some of the,details of the campaign, because I think I love Dartmouth as much as he does! My grandfather, Professor Charles D. Adams, taught Greek at the College for the greater part of his active life. My father David E. Adams, of the class of '13, now teaches at Mount Holyoke, from which I was graduated in 1939. The Adams family has been graduating from Dartmouth since 1797. I have spent nearly all my summers in Hanover, and I met 'Rocky' my husband there, so I have a strong affection for the town and the College."
If we ever organize a national Women's Auxiliary, which might not be a bad idea, there's my nomination for the first Madame President.
Well, this goes on through a long list, and through virtually every activity and responsibility of the alumni body. Take the brother-sister act of Proctor Page "42, and his sister, Patricia. Proc, secretary-chairman of his class, has been in the Army since June, '42, yet, with the help of his sister, at home in Burlington, Vt., he carried on as class secretary right up to last month. She handled the clerical work, kept the files, kept the correspondence rolling, consulting with him by letter wherever he was stationed. Proc's a Corporal, and Corporals are on the hop, but Patricia and Mr. and Mrs. Page, have carried along for their soldier brother and son—and Dartmouth.
Or Marjorie Ruggles, wife of Art Ruggles, '37 Class Treasurer. Art entered the Army in August '42. Marjorie handled all the class financial business right on through the ensuing year and up until the last possible minute before taking time out to help Art Ruggles III discover America.
Pretty Adelaide Hofman, wife of Norb Hofman, acting secretary-chairman of the Class of '36, is another one of these ladies. This couple even took their summer vacations in Hanover, especially to check the husband's class records and bring everything up to date.
Keeping the Alumni Records Office in these times is a formidable responsibility. The work is ably headed by Miss Charlotte Ford (a Dartmouth woman, herself). Trying to keep full records of the military careers of 7,500 men, the deaths, the decorations, the promotions, the whereabouts and all, is a tremendous task, calling for endless correspondence.
But so brilliantly has Miss Ford run her department, and so conscientious have been the wives and mothers in their cooperation, that, despite the chaotic conditions, the Dartmouth files are in splendid shape. Probably no college in the country can show anything better. Exhibits here are hard to show, for the information in this category is mostly statistical. But, for example, Mrs. Clara J. Tremaine, mother of Major Jay Eugene Tremaine '24, a prisoner of war in the Philippines, faithfully sends on to the College excerpts from his letters.
Mrs. Rose White Winship, mother of Steve Winship '4l, sends word of his Navy connection as, she says, "he probably won't." Mrs. Mary T. Cooke gave such in- formation as she had about her son, Lt.
Jim Cooke '40, who died in a Japanese prison camp at Osaka. And so it goes through gladness, tragedy, pride and tears —not alone the granite of New Hampshire keeping a record of their fame, but the College, herself, thanks mostly to the mothers who bore them and the wives who married them.
I'm not forgetting such things as the Alumni Club activities, nor the Dartmouth Women's Club of Boston, that active association of mothers and wives, who over the past 12 years have raised $8,500 for Dartmouth scholarships. They, too, have geared themselves to help the College at war. In Cleveland, Chicago and sundry addresses, the Wah-Hoo-Wah for a long time has had a feminine obligato. But we salute them as friends of considerable standing. These others are mostly new. At least their type of vajiant service is.
Who can measure it? Why should we try? Here's to our women!
To them, we render our affectionate gratitude and then append the superlative: they're damned good Dartmouth men!
THE FEMININE TOUCH on Dartmouth's wartime faculty is supplied by Mrs. James F. Cusick, wife of the Dartmouth economics professor, who is shown teaching V-12 trainees in one of the sections she handles in the busy fields of graphics and descriptive geometry.
EASY WINNER of the 1943 contest for nicest assistant class agent was Ruth Rockwell, wife of Ensign Landon G. Rockwell '35, whose Fund duties she carried on while he patrolled the ocean in a PC boat. She is the daughter of David E. Adams '13 and the granddaughter of the late Professor Charles D. Adams of Dartmouth.
INTIMATE WITH DARTMOUTH through her husband and two sons, Mrs. Allan L. Priddy of Brookline, Mass., poses with Colonel, "assistant chaperone and frequent guest at the Phi Kappa Psi House." Mrs. Priddy is the wife of the late Allan L. Priddy '15, prominent alumnus, and the mother of Allan Jr. '42 and Stanton '43.
BUSY FOR DARMOUTH today, just as they have been during the years before the war, these are Directors of the Dartmouth Women's club of Boston who lead the work of that unique organization. Left to right, they are: Front row—Mrs. Peter J. Maguire ('04); Mrs. Harry E. Morton (mother of Richard H. '36); Mrs. James C. Walker ('04), president of the Club; Mrs. William C. Cusack ('27), first vice president. Back row—Mrs. Walter P. Rankin ('00); Mrs. Oliver W. Holmes ('29) ; Mrs. George W. Elwell ('08); Mrs. J. Richard Lunt ('08); Mrs. Ernest L. Kimball ('14). Mrs. Rankin and Mrs. Walker are also Dartmouth mothers.
CLASS TREASURER for 1937 for a whole year was Marjorie Ruggles, who took over and ran things expertly when her husband, Arthur H. Ruggles Jr. '37, left home and hearth for the Army.
PRESIDENTS of the Dartmouth Women's Club of Boston since its founding in 1930 have included, top row, left to right, Mrs. Frank Ford Hill, founder and first president (1930-32), mother of John E. '20, Frank R. '21, and Kenneth B. '25; Mrs. Rufus King Noyes (1938-40), whose husband was a Medical School graduate in 1875; Mrs. Nelson P. Brown (1932-34), daughter of President William Jewett Tucker, wife of Judge Brown 99, and mother of Nelson P. Jr. '36 and Stanton '38. Bottom row—Mrs. Herbert D. Sherman (1934-36), mother of Philip R. '28; Mrs. Walter E. Hammett ( 1936-38), mother of Walter E. Jr. '33; and Mrs. James C. Walker, present head of the Club, wife of James C. '04 and mother of Dr. James C Jr '33 Missing from the group is Mrs. Parker E. Soule (1940-43), mother of Parker F. Jr. '31.
LT. COL. RUTH CHENEY STREETER, USMCWR, director of the U. S. Marine Corps Women's Reserve, is the wife of Thomas W. Streeter '04 and the mother of Thomas W. Jr. '44, now in the Army.
