Plainfield High School - Milestone Yearbook (Plainfield, NJ)

Page 8 text:

THE ORACLE Class Officers HAROLD LOIZEAUX MARGARET RICE President Vice-President Mary SIMONS ROMEYN VOORHEES Secretary Treasurer

Page 7 text:

THE ORACLE 3 Valedictory Address Howard B. Stelle CLASSMATES: As we have played our part in this gigantic struggle of nations during the past year, so must we continue to do in the future and with far greater measure of devotion and sacrifice. We are looking for- ward to the time when, in fulfillment of our President’s ideals, the whole world shall be a decent piace in which to live, when democracy shall hold full sway and autocracy be banished, when war forever shall be done away. Not only must we set our faces against the advance of the Prussian army and the Prussian spirit, but we must say to all ideals which are unworthy of America, “Thou shalt not pass.”” May each one of us “fight the good fight”? and do his part in bringing about this New World.

Page 9 text:

THE ORACLE 5 A Man’s Part (As told by Harold Bloomfield, winner of the First Babcock Prize) Private Brooks’ mind was at ease. He did not attempt to deceive himself about the dangers of a listening-post, especially in this spell of heavy fighting, and he admitted frankly that he might not come back, but—well, he needn’t worry. ‘That Government insurance bill had driven the dark cloud from his horizon. Brooks had slipped off alone after taking out his policy, and figured cut the whole matter: If he were killed, his mother and sister would be able to manage with his sister's earnings and the ten thousand dollars of insurance money. If he returned from the war, he could support them. And at present, they were eking out a frugil existence from the money he sent them and the rather smal! wages of his sister, So— ‘Say,’ cautioned his comrade in a whisper, “watch your feet. You're makin’ too much noise.” “All right. We must be about near enough, ain’t we?” “Not quite.” ‘They crept on farther under a starry sky that made the scatiered artillery fire seem strangely out of place. Stakes, scraps of wire, and shell-holes, every- where, impeded their progress, but it was not long before they were close enough to the enemy trenches. The two soldiers lay down to listen, with bayonets attached to their loaded rifles. It was exciting work. Shadowy forms sprang up out of the darkness on all sides, moved phantom-like, and faded away, to reappear in other places. Blacker patches on the ground formed sudden resemblances to men lying in ambush, but a closer scrutiny would convince Brooks they were but tricks of his imagination. He could feel the blood pound through his ears. What dull, stupid stuff that bookkeeping had been, he thought sardonically. Suddenly the enemy’s artillery broke forth in a thunderous crash, that almost brought the soldiers to their feet. The heavens seemed rent by the explosions, and Brooks felt the earth tremble. The bombardment continued in a deafening roar. ‘Then star-shells began to appear here and there. The two men cursed bitterly at the sight of them. In a few minutes they were bursting all along the line, disclosing the soldiers in a white glare. Hoping to be overlooked, they flattened out and lay motionless. A bullet spat into the ground in front of them, and was followed by another to the side. “Let’s beat it!” Brooks yelled into the ear of his comrade. ‘Good luck!” “Good luck!’ came in the answering shout, barely audible above the up- roar. ‘hey leaped from the ground and raced madly for their trenches. Bullets