1942

I've been sitting here for some minutes watching a fat lady with three wet lilies and a bandana on her head standing in a puddle across the street—which reminds me to wish '42 a badly outdated Happy Easter. Up here, it's a wet one—but then, by the time this copy wanders out to your various stations, all things Easterish will be long gone from mind.

To divert myself occasionally from the fascinating spectacle of the fat lady in the puddle, I glance every now and then at a large pile of letters which appear to be thumbing their noses at me from an adjacent chair. Which also recalls to mind that among them are several notes of a polite but unmistakably indignant nature. The indignation, I hasten to add, is well justified—it seems this department is guilty of a gross miscalculation in regard to the Class Baby. Mrs. Herb Osborne brings to our attention the fact that Herbert Lloyd Osborne Jr. was practically a bewhiskered grandfather when we,, in blissful and benevolent ignorance, bestowed the '42 Diaper Crown on Jefferson Gary White. Herb Jr., we now understand, was born in Omaha on April 16, 1943—a full six months before Bob and Jeanne White's young offspring gave out with his first Indian yell. The diaper numerals and gilt-edged baby spoon are hereby transferred—with congratulations to the Osbornes and condolences to young Jeff, who now holds the dubious distinction of having been King for a Day It also appears that Lt. (jg) and Mrs. Ted Locke became the proud parents of a son last October 13—which further relegates the afore-crowned king, whose birthday was October 26, to third place. With all this tardy title-passing, this diaper derby is beginning to resemble the famous 3-0 Cornell game—but at any rate, if there are any more claimants, let me know, and they'll be dutifully recorded.

From the South Pacific: Nelly Craw writes from an LCI that he has seen quite a bit of Dartmouth, island-hopping around down under. Charlie Hunt, he says, is a duration kid on one of those languorous South Sea Island bases (other descriptions censored). He ran into Ollie Quayle, who is about due for home, and also has seen Lt. (jg) Phil Moon, Lt. Frank Garran and Ens. Ed Hawkridge, all on tin cans and doing a great job Speaking of tin cans: Mrs. Art Huck writes that Art was on active duty a year and two months aboard the O'Bannon—which, if I remember correctly, recently received a Presidential Unit Citation for all-around give and take with the Japs in the busiest parts of the Pacific. Art has a new half-stripe—was home last November and spent his time happily changing daughter Pamela's unmentionables From Bobus Vaitses, a note about Stan Wyatt and George McClintock, also on destroyer duty in that area, and Stubbie Pearson, down around there on a carrier. Bobus bumped into them during the few short intervals when he was off duty from his battleship—also several other Dartmouth men of other classes—including Kelly Raffman '43, who literally dropped in on him from the sky and was fished out of the drink in his F6F by Vaitses' battlewagon Typical of the way Dartmouth is meeting Dartmouth all over the place these days .... Bill Russell, also roaming that part of the girdled earth, tells of meeting Fred Slack, now a full lieutenant on a destroyer escort; Ralph Morrison, who is aboard a cargo ship; Marine Capt. Jack Williams and Bob Taylor—all meetings held in the midst of appropriate alcoholic refreshment.

From the other end of things (i.e., the English theater) comes word from Bill Miller, now a second lieutenant in the QMC and a proud wearer of the Spam ribbon for meritorious action among the Piccadilly Circus Commandos. Bill went overseas some time ago after hacking around all over the East Coast, including a station "somewhere in New England," during which he managed to get around to some of the more familiar haunts in Boston. The '42s who heard from by him include Ed McLaughlin, Bruce Stevens, Bert Anger and Harry Rollins—the latter of whom is reported working on an entry in the class of '65. McGinty is establishing supply systems for PT flotillas somewhere in the South Pacific, on detached duty from his own PT group. Steve still studying medicine at Fort McKinley in Maine, and Bert with an ASTP unit at Stanford Also in England are Dick Braman, recently promoted to (jg), and Bob Rogers, buzzing around North Ireland and points East in his own little B-17.

Chuck Kingsley, from a fighter operational base near Jacksonville, tells of running into a lot of Dartmouth in that neck of the woods, after a tour of duty in Nebraska that was totally devoid of Big Green

Em Rice, after honeymooning in Hanover, is studying at Recognition School out Ohio State way, and expects sea duty soon Gove Wilkins, at the same school, has since graduated, and is headed out. Em ran into Keith Prouty, whom I haven't seen since we used to throw waste-baskets of water at each other, freshman year—Keith has also moved out, having been at Ohio State since September.

Here and there: Bob Burns got his Navy Wings at Pensacola Phil Locke now a second lieutenant in the Army Transportation Corps I neglected to mention before that Herb Osborne, pop of the Diaper King, is undergoing basic for the AAF at Lemoore, Cal and Ted Locke is instructing with Walt Elcock, 'Jim Idema and Artie Sale at Pensacola For the hearts and flowers: the lack of items in this line is well made up for by the splash Bob Carney made in the news on March 11 in Washington. Bob, just back from heavy duty with the Marines in the Pacific, took time out to marry Natalie Sutherland, whose father, Lt. Gen. Richard K. Sutherland, is General Mac Arthur's chief of staff in Australia. Bob's father, by the way, is chief of staff to Admiral Halsey, Navy chief of the Allied South Pacific Forces Lt. Fred Nichols married Lt. Nell Sipple of the Army Nurse Corps in Conway, S. C.—both sta- tioned at Camp Davis, N. C. . . . . Sgf. Judd Mulally married Norma Rosness on Feb. 3 in St. Paul, Minn Judd's on his way overseas Doc Lewis, now an ensign, married Mary Lou Cornell on Feb. 1, in Silver Springs, Md., and went whipping back to his ship And I, dear friends, must back to my beer.

Acting Secretary, 126 MacDougal Street, New York (12), N. Y.