1934

Greetings! That's a mighty tough way to open up any communication these days as far as we civilians are concerned. But it has the advantage of assuring me complete reader interest for that same group. At least, I've found myself going over some mighty fine print and gobbling up a lot of prose prepared by the Washington set that seemed to have any connection at all with what might be expected from General Hershey. Which leads me to the first item of news. Shortly after receiving word from my friends and neighbors that they'd like to look me over to see if I was physically, mentally, and morally fit, I worked my way through a string of dead pan MDs who poked here and there with no comment. Finally I came up to an affable sort of chap who soon learned I was a '34 and he proceeded to tell me what a peach of a sailor Art Nissen has turned out to be. Seems that they spent some time on a ship together in the Pacific. His name was Sam and he asked me to use a little space in my column to say, "Howdy, Art."

Jocko Stangle is now in the medics as a stretcher bearer and may be overseas by the time this gets into print. Laurie Herman is still with the Chicago Daily News. Okie O'Keefe continues to buy all the chickens in the Middlewest for the Quartermaster, but is now being rivalled as a feeder of armies by Witt McConnochie who has the job of serving 15,000 hungry sailors at Great Lakes every day. Jack Fogarty is now claiming something of a record in going from the bottom to the top in the Navy in the shortest time on record. After seeing some mighty interesting duty under the Atlantic in a submarine, he was allowed a few days furlough and upon re- porting back found himself in the Navy Air Arm and stationed somewhere in Oregon.

John Lashar and Breck Deßiemer, the Remington Arms tycoons, dropped by our booth at the Packaging Show in Chicago and gave with a little news from up Bridgeport way. Bill Haist is counting the dough for the Belknap Mfg. Cos. of Bridgeport in the capacity of treasurer. Ted Thompson has left N.B.C. for somewhat more active work as a private in the Signal Corps. And to add to the difficulties of switching positions, he had to leave shortly after he became the pappy of a boy. Willy Leveen is still running around New York. Currently he is much interested in the Navy, or the Navy is much interested in him. Tom Cass also dropped by to add to the records that he now has two daughters, one two years and the other six months. Still no names.

Van Thorne, who is doing all right for himself with General Motors, writes of the success that Bill Richardson is having with his own company up in Boston, the Industrial Air Co.—blowers, dehydrators, and that sort of stuff. Stan Abercrombie has done himself proud in preparing an excellent publication for the American Automobile Association, Teacher's Manual, Wartime Driving. In the March issue of the ALUMNI MAG a list of Dartmouth casualties in the war failed to include the name of Capt. Ken Keeley, who has been a prisoner of the Japs for over a year. A newsy note from Lt. Goose Goss, . I'm in the Marine Corps and have been overseas for six months. Have been in on landing operations and have seen some lead and steel flying. At present I'm sitting on an 'island paradise' swimming in the lagoon, spearing octopi and fish, and waiting for the next Marine operation. This Marine Corps ain't fun—but it's a rip roaring outfit, as you know, and would warm any Dartmouth son's heart. I'm surprised more of our class aren't in We're looking forward to making the 15th Reunion, since the 10th seems out. Eight thousand miles is too far between gun watches." And from Lt. Bi'l Daniells, also in the Pacific area as an officer aboard a big boat .... "I've been out here about four months after a year's duty in the Navy Dept. in Washington. It's not all 'gravy,' but that isn't what most of us got in for. Occasionally the ship drops anchor in various ports and atolls where other '34s may be, and I extend an invitation to any who can get out to the ship to come aboard for a fresh water shower and a good meal. Sea duty on the larger ships at least means clean sheets, plenty of fresh water and good food " Sorry I can't pass on the name of the ship so you guys interested can take advantage of this invitation, but there may be some nasty little men reading this that would like to have the same information. To play safe, just drop in on any big ship that comes into port and ask for Bill. Lt. Mike Joseph seems to be a little bit itchy for action "When I read the stories of the exploits of some of our boys I get envious. We're as well trained as any of them, and better than most—and here we are still waiting and still 'Uncle Sam's Silent Soldiers'—our real nickname—'Jungle Mudders'—our area,Panama."

And here is a list of the fellows who will be having fittings for brass hats one of these days real soon as they are working their way up mighty fast. (I may be sorta late with some of this dope, so if some of you guys are wearing a couple of stars by this time, the only solution to better reporting will be to have them take the embargo off of news coming into Kentucky. Honest, we're good loyal citizens down here and would like to know what's going on.) Elmer Fulton is now wearing an extra half stripe on his sleeve as a Lt. (j.g.). Jack Fish and Tim Inglis are both captains in the Army and Hubert Johnson is an ensign in the Navy. Jack Who ley, Johnny Hoyt, and Dave Murphy are all lieutenants and Em Brown is a captain.

I get awfully ashamed of the chicken tracks I make on paper when I read some of the truly good reporting done by some of the '34s in service. We've got worlds of fancy material for new secretaries when they all get back. As an example of some of this talent, here are some excerpts from a letter that Johnny Spiegel wrote to his wife. I wish there were room for all of it as you just can't select any best parts ". . . . I haven't written you for more days than I like to think about, but actually it wasn't my fault.... we were having a slight misunderstanding with Jerry in our neighborhood, and since both sides lost their temper and started throwing things made out of lead and acting in a generally unpleasant and nasty fashion, very few of those nice transport planes came up to visit us, and those that did screw up their courage to come were too well loaded to carry out mail, or even personnel, including your ever-loving husband, who was scheduled to get carried out, but I'm getting ahead of my story. Just about the time that the enemy started to get so unfriendly, which was very unfair of him since we had been expecting him to be sensible and get out of Africa without making all that fuss, an order came from the Headquarters of the XII Air Force Service Command consisting of several typewritten pages devoted to transferring people hither and yon about the dark continent, and who should lead off this safari but one John P. Spiegel, who was, it appeared, transferred to a Medical Dispensary Detachment (Avn), where he was ordered to proceed directly, without delay, by air, to Algiers to report to the CO thereof. Very good, but what the hell was it, and how was he to proceed directly by air when that element was so full of planes, large and small, friend and foe, that all you had to do was go out with a large fishnet or butterfly net, and you could have caught yourself a mess of Messerschmidts, or a string of P-38's Well, since it seemed that I was going to move, sooner or later, one way or another, I packed all my personal stuff that I hadn't lost or been robbed of, sent off my heavy medical equipment by truck, put my light medical equipment in the ambulance, and considered myself ready to move forwards or backwards or even around or through the enemy lines if necessary. That's one nice thing about being a Doc in the Army; if you have to blow the joint in a hurry, you've always got your ambulance, while others are looking frantically for a truck or a jeep or even a burro The next day about noon we heard that our Nordic neighbors had started a new attack, the worst of all, to the north of us, and everyone started clucking their tongues, and checking the gas and oil for an orderly retreat. Now since an orderly retreat, otherwise known as an advance to the rear or falling back to better positions or straightening the line of communications, is something like trying to get out of Arlington Park in a hurry on the day of the Arlington Handicap (or make up your own simile dept.), nobody wants to be either orderly or retreated; as a consequence of this reasonable reluctance our air forces threw themselves into such a pitch of activity as was wonderful to see, with missions coming and going every few minutes, the firmament roaring with sound of motors and everything on the ground vibrating in harmony. If Hans and Fritz wanted to play so rough, we could play rougher, and we had the wherewithal. As a matter of fact, we got so worked up about it, that it seems we practically wiped him off that particular part of the map, and the next day Hans and Fritz looked more like Humpty-Dumpty after that rotund figure's lamentable descent without parachute."

Secretary and Treasurer, General Box Co. 816 S. 16th St., Louisville 1, Ky