1934
It's time to get out your little notebook and start changing titles and addresses. The boys are really pouring out of their soldier and sailor suits and searching the town for white shirts. (You've got quite a look coming, too, in case you don't know it!). Bob Wildman is back in Chicago going under the simple title of Mr. again. Ed Thomas is now Doc Thomas up in Hingham, Mass., after 42½ months of continuous service overseas, arriving in Seattle on V-J Day. Jake Jacobson has just returned from ETO via the Queen Mary and is expecting to find the long cherished discharge paper any day now. Dave Hedges picked up an extra half stripe for his uniform and hardly had it sewed on before he found his way out of the Navy. After spending four years and a month earning his captain's bars in the Army, Buz Harttnan took only a few minutes to give them up. Peanuts Davies is still "Lt. Col." to the fellows, but watch out come January 12. Perk. Bass is now back from an extended visit to the far East and hoping to be able to start his law practice in New Hampshire shortly. Will Baird has also packed away his sailor suit and dug out the law books to set things going out Omaha way.
And here are some notes telling about the good news. From Jake Hekma, "Got the final wonderful promotion the 6th of October to civilian first class. The Navy will still be paying me until November 22, so I'm going to spend the time trying to find something to do for a living." Quoting Bill Ramsey, "I hope to leave November 15 for Omaha. My wife and our two daughters (latest, Barbara Lee, born September 9, 1945) are flying to Watertown, S. D., where her parents are, until I find a house. It will be wonderful being home doing interesting work again for a change, although I haven't much to complain about." Sam Carson includes some news other than his. release from service: "Back at work for the Aetna Life Insurance Co., after a tour of duty in the Merchant Marine. Will be in Hartford a couple of Months and then in Toledo as assistant genial agent. In all the confusion of the past few years, I don't know that I ever reported the birth of another potential Dartmouthite. He's a little over two now and, naturally, a source of much satisfaction to his parents." Sunny Mills is back practicing medicine in St. Louis and comments on his tour in service: "Just got out of the Army yesterday and know what a man feels like when he gets out of prison."
And here's a nifty note from Stan Neill: I have been in the Navy for the last three and a half years and it has been quite an experience. My first assignment was to the Navy Yard, Portsmouth, N. H., as purchasing officer and on January 28, 1944, was detached and sent to the 11th Amphibious Force at Plymouth, England. Then I was assigned to the job of receiving officer at the USN Amphibious Supply Base, Exeter, Devon, England. Had a very interesting job and had temporary duty in Normandy, France, in August 1944, and also in France and Belgium in May and June 1945. Had chow one day with Jerry Danzig at my base and had a good long chat about the old gang. Bunked in the same hut with Bob Hoge, class of 1935, and Ralph Brabbee's father-in-law, Jim Watson. I arrived in N. Y. C. September 10, 1945, and after taking my leave and accepting my promotion to lieutenant commander, I asked for my discharge and now am on terminal leave until December 4. On March 23, 1944, (while I was overseas) my wife had a son, Stanley E. Neill Jr., who I saw for the first time about five weeks ago. I plan to go to work with my father-in-law in the wool business, and it sure will seem good to get back to being a civilian again. Hope to go to Hanover to see the Cornell game.
(This job is getting to be a snap with so many top-notchers doing the writing for me. Ed.) And before you can bat your eyes, here comes a daisy from Fred Rath.
With the war in this country over, I've got no more excuses—and besides it's too cold to go out swimming. So here's some news (mostly personal) and views (not necessarily the opinion of the War Department). Your primary interest: Oh Mercenary One—l shall satisfy first. Even though I didn't have time to go through the mechanics myself, I did manage to slip a sentence into a letter home asking them to make out a bond for Dartmouth College. I hope it's been done by this time; I'll jog their memories just in case. In any event, probably because I'm self-conscious about the fact that I've managed to forget the last several years because of a too-intimate involvement in war, I'm particularly anxious that I slide under the wire this year. For I've noticed that my pride in Dartmouth continues to grow. Not so long ago, in fact, a PRO, having noticed that both Dartmouth and Harvard were listed on some form or other of mine, asked me whether in filling out another form or other (the Army's full of 'em) he should put down that I was a Harvard man. I was shocked and then amused at my own belligerence. It's the answer to the question, I guess. I got mixed up with this a long time ago, Bill, and it looks as if my number's not up yet. I don't mean that in the mystical or fatalistic sense. You've got to have 85 points to get out of this Army and although I'm within whistling distance, whistling is dangerous in a country where nonfraternization is the rule. The next stop then will probably be the Orient. That's going to make a world-traveler out of me, somewhat to my surprise. Through the medium of American Field Service and an ambulance driver's job, I saw most of the Middle East, slept in some lovely slit trenches with hot and cold running sweat around Alamein, got over as far as Tripoli, and eventually flew back to the States. By that time the Army didn't care if I had any eyes at all, so they accepted me gladly. Anybody reading the newspapers and magazines knows what can happen then; almost all of it did. But, carefully avoiding the snares of Washington desk jobs and the like, I was lucky enough to land in Intelligence early enough to bring me overseas for the last six months of the campaign. It's done my heart good to see the Nazis paid back in their own terms and I got a big kick out of standing in the so-called "Munich Pact Room" (the one with the huge window overlooking the surrounding mountainsides) of Hitler's Berghof at Berchtesgaden. The room was a shambles, symbolized best perhaps by the wreckage of a grand piano. Here the Nazis dreamed; here their dreams dissolved in the charred ruins. I'm afraid I'm not a good source for news about Dartmouth men. I did see Merrill Heald in Pittsburg a year ago, but only briefly, for the Army was shifting me around the countryside. He holds a commission gracefully—l even forgot to salute him. Phil Eckles shared his wealth not so long ago by sending along a picture of his three youngsters—probably to show me my stupidity for remaining a bachelor so long. He's producing the ice that possibly is used in freezing and dehydrating the food that's served here—and he's really too nice a guy for that sort of thing. Flash! A second mail delivery today. In it a touching letter from Herb Heston and enclosing a stamped envelope, which I shall forthwith use for this effusion. I've written enough anyhow. So here's good luck to you and I trust that the Fund goes over the top once more. It may seem mawkish, but I'm going to put it down anyhow; almost all that Dartmouth stood for seems worth fighting for. A lot of guys like Fordie Sayre, with whom I worked in Hanover, have gone one step further. It's a tremendous sacrifice for anyone to pay, so my fondest hope is that Dartmouth itself will recognize its obligation to keep the lamp burning. I'm certain she will.
The wedding o£ Elizabeth Cameron to our own Stu Barber seems to have been the occasion for a minor reunion, several men sending in glowing reports. In Stu's own words, "Dick Houck was best man, putting in a smooth veteran performance. Jack Gilbert came down from Amherst a few hours after the arrival of young John Winsor Gilbert, and after his color was restored with several double shots, was the life of the party, having lost neither his wackiness nor his touch at the ivories. Bride and groom enjoyed their own wedding, breaking all precedent. I'm stuck in the Navy until February or March coaxing statistics on air operations into final reports on the war."
Just about enough time now to tell you about some of the new members of the family. This time it's a boy for Eliot Thomas and goes by the name of Christopher Pearce. The important date, April 4, 1945. Len Harrison has waited about a year to send out the good word that Walter Leonard was born last November 22. A terse announcement from Bill Judd; "Wm. Hart Judd III discovered America October 12, 1945. Mother and son doing fine. I'll recover soon." The vital statistics on the third child at the Charlie Levesque home are: name, Katherine Sawtell; date, September 18, 1945, weight, 7 lbs. 10 oz. William Stein Jr., has been waiting since October 10, 1945, to meet his dad, who has been detained in Germany since last March. Joe Robinson has been beaming all over Hartford since August 26 over the arrival of young Richard Craig. And cigars were in order at the Krogslund home on August 7 in honor of Nelson B,II.
And here are some new pappies who favor us with some extra news. Art Ward writes, "The biggest news from us Wards now is the arrival of a daughter, Laurien, last June. I was in Philadelphia at the time, attending the U. of Penn Graduate School of Medicine and returned home to find that the two boys had a sister. I agree with the guy who said that 'two's company, but three's a crowd.' We're still struggling trying to find ways of curing tuber- culosis, without much success to date, and find that we still have to resort to the time-honored treatment, with bed rest and sometimes giving a little help with surgery. We are also still teaching the University of Vermont medical students. They come in groups of four for a month's stay."
And Mac Collins dug out his fountain pen for a few words, "As for news, we now have a new daughter (to add to our 3-year-old son) named Carolyn Gail Collins. Where we got the 'Gail' I don't know, but any similarity with Gail Raphael is 'purely coincidental.' Also, by the time you cash this check or shortly after (November 1) I should have a new job—Advertising Manager and Assistant to Traffic Vice President of the New York Central Railroad."
The unpleasant part of my job this month is to tell you of the death of Marty Braun, who has been missing since the North African invasion and is now presumed dead.
That's all the news for now. Sincere wishes for a Very Merry Christmas and A Happy New Year!
Secretary and Treasurer General Box Co. 816 S. 16th St., Louisville 1, Ky.
