Rockland High School - Cauldron Yearbook (Rockland, ME)

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16 THE CAULDRON nowhere at the rate of forty miles an hour. Even the fairly big ships were wal- lowing and plunging under the pressure of the towering seas. The little Hat- 'bottomed landing craft were bouncing and tossing about like toothpicks in the tempest. Dawn came up gray and misty, and as the day wore on, the storm grew progressively worse. By midafternoon the sea was breaking in mountainous waves clear over the decks of the largest ships. Men could not stand on deck and watches had to be lashed to their posts. This storm could turn the whole venture into a disaster that would cost thousands of lives and ships. The majority of the soldiers would hit the beach weak and indifferent from sea-sickness, with two-thirds of their fighting power destroyed. High waves would make it im- possible to launch the assault craft from the transports. Boats would be smashed, lives would be lost, and the attack seriously weakened. lf the invasion were post- poned, it would increase the chance of discovery and bring heavy attacks by the enemy. Finally the prayers of the boys for moderate weather were answered, and it seemed as though fate had plucked the convoy from the grip of doom. The storm ceased as quickly as it had begun, and the mountainous waves slowly leveled out until the surface of the water was as smooth as a table top. This was the moment the brass hats had been waiting for, so they gave the long awaited order, Stand by to board landing craft l VVithin fifteen minutes the beach was covered by what looked like chocolate icing, but this icing was the brown and khaki uniforms of American soldiers. The enemy offered little resistance, and by sunset the infantry had taken every- thing they had hoped to get during the first five days. Convoys had started back to Africa for new loads before the first day was over. Our own invading Heet had escaped without losses other than normal mechanical breakdowns. Strong counterattacks were inevitable, but the invaders felt that, whatever happened, they had a head start and all was in their favor. This is only a preamble to the work and fighting our boys are engaged in. They are making supreme sacrifices in order that we, the younger generation of America may inherit a world of peace. Not every invasion is as successful as this mythical one. But every invasion does depend on the loyal support of every single person who has the privilege of calling himself an American ! VVENDELL VVEBBER MONOTONOUS? H- Miss Abigail Tompson, Custodian of Old Manuscripts at the Library of the Philadelphia Historical Society. Yes, this quiet, unassuming, white-haired lady of some seventy odd years, seemed like a typical librarian whose uneventful life would be very monotonous. I am not familiar with your title. What sort of work do you do ? After a few other leading questions we found that Miss Tompson's work is very unusual. As custodian of old manuscripts she is given old letters and papers, many of Revolutionary Days, and restores them as nearly as possible to their original state. Often she finds the edges of them ragged and whole sections of paper missing. Each new item presents new problems. She has many kinds of 'old paper for patching at her disposal, and often she has to dye them to match

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THE CAULDRON 15 Literary INVASION CONVOY The port of Tunisia in Africa was to be the port of embarkation of the next invasion. The harbor was congested with ships of all different types, such as troop transports, ocean going landing craft, mine sweepers, subchasers, submarines, destroyers, cruisers, repair ships and practically everything that Hoats. Harbor lights blazed, defying danger, throughout the night. The activity was so seething that it seemed impossible that the enemy hadn't learned of these preparations. Every ship was overcrowded with both soldiers and sailors and, unbelievable as it may seem, there was no quarreling between the two-not even any sarcasm or words of the traditional contempt they have for each other. On board ship every- body was dead serious. They seemed outwardly calm, but inwardly they were frightened sick with worry. They, the doughboys and tars, talked of their chances of survival, and even wagered bets as to whether or not their ship would be hit. Everyone knew that they were taking part in an historic naval movement and were doing all they possibly could to make it a success. All this hustle-bustle of prepa- ration was the invasion prelude. -' lfinally, everybody knew, without even being told, that the big moment had comeg for all that day slower troop-carrying barges had filed past the faster escort ships in an unbroken line, heading out to open sea and their destiny. Late that afternoon the harbor was empty and the command ships slipped away from their moorings and steamed out past the bomb shattered city. The day of embarkation couldn't have been more appropriate. The sun brightened everything with its magniiiceut splendorg its heat was modified by a mild offshore breeze. The tiniest ships could be seen miles out at sea, silhouetted against the horizon. There is no way of describing the enormous size of the Heet, but in the distance it resembled a large metropolis. The uncountable structures of dull colored, camoullaged ships were indistinct against the dark blue background of water. There was no way of concealing this immense armadag therefore it was necessary lo protect it in every way possible. Allied planes iiew in formation thousands of feet above themg great graceful cruisers and wicked destroyers hovered in a wide circle, surrounding this fleet of over two thousand ships. Vicious little P. T. boats, roaring in one giant combination, maneuvered about the larger ships like a swarm of hornets. Their guard was assembled and the1'e was no turning back. The hrst morning out the sailors were called on deck and told where they were going. That news was the occasion for settling up any bets that had been made as to where the invasion would take place. The convoy sailed in separate fleets, landed in separate areas, and were commanded by three Admirals and three Generals. This first day at sea was like a peace time Mediterranean cruise. The weather was something you read about in travel folders, warm and sunny. with the sea as smooth as silk. But in spite of the peacefulness of the surroundings a sharp alert was kept, for at any moment they could be attacked by a submarine, surface ship or airplane. The serenity of the sea made it hard to take the possi- bility of danger seriously. All went well during the day, but toward evening the weather took a seemingly disastrous change. The sea began to kick up and the wind came from practically

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THE CAULDRON 17 the faded manuscripts. After carefully restoring them, she preserves them by covering them with a special sheer cloth which is nearly transparent. All papers are then placed under glass or in dust-tight cases. e It was interesting to hear her tell of this intricate and exacting work and we wondered if she had had any particularly interesting experiences with her paper patching. After some prodding she told us this story: About six months ago. two men came to my work room and asked me if they were right in understanding that I could re-assemble the parts of a mutilated letter. After carefully producing a box containing seemingly hundreds of pieces of writing paper as small as confetti, they asked me if I would be willing to put this letter together for them. I enjoy unusual requests and so set to work. As I spread out these fragments they told me why they had come. It seems that a month before a young lady was found with a bullet wound in her head. Her estranged husband was now on trial for her murder. This man, who was on an out-bound train half an hour after her death, had no way of proving that she was alive when he left her apartment. His fate seemed sealed, until in searching her room for evidence, these scraps of paper were found in her waste basket. Evidently she had intended for no one to read them, for not a word could be read. 'l'he court had sent these men to me in the hope that if the papers were mended so that the letter could be read, it might furnish evidence which would decide the case one way or the other. Now that I had the pieces spread out and knew the importance of my task, I set out eagerly to assemble my puzzle in the endeavor to save a man's life. At the end of the second hour. I was finished, and the men excitedly read the results of my efforts, after which they thanked me profusely and left, exultantg for in this letter rested the one scrap of evidence which would prove that this woman was alive after the accused had left her. In the note the dead woman explained that, her husband no longer loving her, she had nothing to live for and was going to shoot herself. Apparently she decided not to leave the note and so destroyed it as completely as possible. Her husband would have soon joined her in death had it not been for the help of this quiet old lady. Did we once think her work dull and monotonous? BETTY HEMPSTEAD THE GREAT STRUGGLE or PLUMBING IN THE HOME Due to the shortage of experienced and well-trained plumbers, many of us are now discovering the pleasures and joys QU of doing our own plumbing. Cn a peaceful Sunday morning as we are just opening our eyes, luxuriously stretching, and chuckling over last night's party, we feel a sense of security and contentment that only a good night's sleep can bring. WeV rise and shine, only to discover that it is quite chilly, fnot to say freezingj, and make a dash for the bathroom to indulge in a nice steaming hot bubble bath Capple blossomj.