Rockland High School - Cauldron Yearbook (Rockland, ME)

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THE CAULDRON . 21 Neither Peter, Steve, nor I had any parents. But in Vtfainbridge there was old Doc Bennett who really seemed like a father to all of us. Doc Bennett was a very wonderful man with kindly blue eyes, a good sense of humor, and a smile for everyone. He was always trying to help someone, especially Steve, Peter, and me. Everything was going very smoothly at the hospital. I was studying harder than ever and progressing rapidly. Then came a Sunday morning in December when Pearl I-Iarbor was bombed. That was all the three of us talked about for a week. A few nights later, I was in the lab alone studying some formulas when Steve and Peter came in together. I could tell by the expression on their faces that they had been up to something, and I had a faint idea what it was all about. For a few seconds neither one of them spokeg they just looked at me. Then they both started to tell me, and they were all mixed up. VVhen it was quiet again, l said, You don't have to tell me, I know. Yes, they had enlisted in the Medical Division of the Navy. I hated to have them go, but I knew it was their duty and the thing they both wanted. Old Doc and I saw them off. VVhen we went back to the hospital it seemed very dull and lonesome. There were many other doctors and nurses, but there was still a very empty feeling. About ten months passed and I saw them once, for four very short days, before they went overseas. VVe were all able to meet in New York where we took in all the sights we could, and had one more good time together. They looked very handsome and proud in their uniforms, as I walked between them to the station. I felt proud, too, not just because I was Walking between two handsome Lieutenants, but because I, too, was in the Navy. I had joined the Nurse Corps two weeks after Steve and Peter had left. VVhen they arrived back at their base they were separated, Steve went to the Pacihc and Peter, the Atlantic. I heard from them quite often and I wrote every night. It was just a year from the time that we had last met in New York that I received the telegram. I knew what was in it and I dreaded to open it. I think that I was never so afraid in my life. I felt numb and lifeless. I just sat down, holding the telegram so tightly that my knuckles were white, staring at nothing, with my eyes full of tears which I could not control. Yes, I knew what was in the telegram, but I didn't know whether it was Steve or Peter, and I loved them both very much. You see, Steve was my brother and Peter was my husband. ELAINE GLENDENNING WOODLAND DRAMA The lofty summit' of the mountain was capped in snow now tinged with pink from the setting sun. Here vegetation was scarce and the few trees were lopped and stunted from the constant beating of the wind. However, on the sides of the mountain and on the foothills below, Hrs and spruces grew abundantly with numberless kinds of other vegetation. Through this wilderness moved numerous animals of all shapes and sizes.

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20 THE CAULDRON bound for the tropics. This was the thing he had been waiting forg here was his chance. So he took it, and after that his rise was steady. Soon he began to realize that all of his dreaming about owning his own ship was not in vain. He tried hard and was very quick to learn, and in practically no time at all he was ready for Captaincy. Then one day his dreams came true. He owned his own ship. He was the commander, not the commanded. His crews were carefully chosen and he was well liked by all. You could tell that by the way they fondly called him t'Cap'n Zeb instead of Captain Hallowayf' He sailed for many decades, and then came the thing that all seamen fear more than any living thing-old age. Capin Zeb found that he was too old to sail any more. His type of sailing ship was being replaced by the more modern steamship. Sadly he retired and lived for many years in Anchorage, listening to stories told by men returning from the lands he knew so well, talking with other old sea cap- tains about the old days, or listening to the storms howl outside his snug, warm cottage. But all that is gone now and all that remains of the old sea captain's romantic life is the old iron anchor, which is placed in the little cemetery on the hill over- looking the sea and which bears the inscription : Here lies 'Cap'n Zeb' Halloway. This is his anchorage. BARBARA DYER THREE IN BLUE My name is Terryg my last name is not important, at least not right now. I was studying at the NVainbridge Memorial Hospital to be a doctor's assistant. Yes, a certain doctor. His name was Steven, Dr. Steven Deerborn. He was known to everyone at the hospital as Steve. There was another doctor in this story. His name was Dr. Peter Lawrence. He was a very tall man with dark wavy hair that fell down on his forehead, and he had black eyes that twinkled when he smiled. Steve was equally as tall, but he had red hair and blue eyes. Peter and Steve were the very best of friends. Because I was studying under Steve, the three of us were together a lot, in and out of the lab. You see, Steven had always lived in Xafainbridge, and after he had finished high school, he went to medical school. There he met Peter and they finished their course together. Steven had planned to come back to Wfainbridge to prac- tice, and he finally persuaded Peter to come with him. I had not decided to go into the hospital until about three years agog but I was learning fast, and was surely going to make a wonderful assistant, so Peter said. Vtfhenever the three of us got off for an evening, we would go to the movies, or dancing, and then have an ice cream soda afterward, just for fun. On Sunday we would goito the beach or for a ride in the country and a picnic lunch. But no matter where we went or what we did, we always made the most of it and had a wonderful time.

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22 THE CAULDRON As the darkness of night settled itself comfortably over the forest, the silence was broken only by the occasional frightened twitter of a bird late in finding its night shelter. Then the silence ended. Slowly the night became alive. An owl blinked its eyes, loosed its hunting cry, and flew like a shadow in search of prey. At the sound a doe trembled and instinctively moved nearer to the awkward, long-legged fawn at her side. She probed the darkness with nervous eyes and urged the fawn forward. VVith the coming of darkness she sensed danger. From a rocky lair green eyes stared unblinking into the surrounding gloom. A tawny body stretched itself, and a full grown puma slunk into the underbrush to begin its nocturnal work. It padded swiftly through the forest, its feet making a minimum of sound on the spongy ground. Suddenly it tensed. It tasted the cool breeze which gently touched its face. Then it hastened on again, its pace quickeningg but, still no sound betrayed its presence. As the night continued the doe became more and more alert. A shiver ran through its delicate body. XVas that a sound or was it her imagination? The doe nudged her offspring in an attempt to hurry it. The doe's keen ears caught the gentle scuff of padded feet on the soft forest Hoor. Panic gripped her. She urged the fawn to greater speed, but being young and awkward, it was unable to keep the pace. The padded footfalls came slowly closer, closer. In desperation the doe forced the youngster into a juniper thicket and fled through the underbrush. The fawn remained still, puzzled, but glad of the chance to rest. The feet padded silently but swiftly through the underbrush after the doe. A false step and the doe fell, one leg bent unnaturally beneath her. From the juniper thicket the fawn heard the crash of the falling body, followed by the huge cat's snarl of triumph. The first rays of the rising sun were reflected by the snow on the monntain's summit. Birds began to stir in the trees. Once again the woods seemed friendly. A lone fawn on wobbly legs wandered aimlessly among the trees. From time to time it uttered a plaintive cry as though it were calling for someone, but the cry went unanswered. In its rocky lair a large puma rolled itself into a ball and slept with the contentment of an oversized, well-fed cat. The drama of the night had passed, and the sunlight brought warmth and security to the woodland dwellers. JA N ET S M I'l' H ONE NIGHT Night had fallen on the bleak moorland when jerry and his wife, Paula, arrived at his mother's home. The only light that cut the heavy darkness was that of the car headlights, and even this seemed to dissolve into the inky blankness a few feet in front of the automobile. The stony silence of the dreary moors was so intense that it could almost be heard. As jerry hopped from the car, rain began to beat against the window. The car was parked before the home of Mrs. Shay, ferry's mother. The cottage was small and white with a huge red rambling rose bush tumbling in