Buckfield High School - Nezinscot Wave Yearbook (Buckfield, ME)

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IN is Y g A33 rg, A 'C X L.. 1 L1 ',,...f 'N- '-'25 f. finish!! fx' af., ,I I x, X,- I g E Ji: - 6-If LEED Q? X. ,lk I ,fy :fps 0 x - C' o- . JY , ..., ,-..... , ,I 0 If 5 i.lf:'m '-r,,-XR -7-,,g...:.,,.,.,.- . .. i w X .gQ.4mLLJgVkc...,e+ NX'1.,..5::.-fl ---- QL I 6 W, fp Y ef 1 . ,,,.A.fs ----s '- Our War at Home We have heard all through this holocaust of two types of war, the war on the battle field and the war on the home front. 1 This war on the home front has many phases, the battle for food production, the battle for production of war materials, the battle for fair wages and equality of sacrifice, and many others. However, the battle which I would like to consider is none of these. It is war in itselfg it is a factor in the demoralization of our people, and a decisive element in the future of millions of young Americans. This war at home should be against uncertainty and uneasiness instead of pro- moting these by false rumors and confused orders. Our people at home should have laws made clear, principles defined, and orders accurate. The war on nerves when directed toward the onomy is equivalent to a military victory, but when that same , method is used against our own populace, it is a military defeat, and the effect on our economic system is not conceivable. The present draft system is an example of this misunderstanding. The ago group of 18 to 38 is in continual unrest. Married men with families, single mon with jobs, students with a future--all these are disturbed and unsettled. wou1dn't it be just as easy to make definite rules and make them public, thus giving theseMOr young men an opportunity to plan for the future! I believe it would, and, what isp I believe this should be done. t , Kenneth Cooper, '44 The Supreme Gift It was hot and damp in that tropical forest. The cruel sound of battle could be heard not a great distance away. Joe lay there on the dark, damp ground hating that sound. His ears hummed with it, and his eyes blurred. He was badly wounded. The Red Cross doctor and his nurse had done their best, but even that cculd not save him. Joe was going to go, and he knew it. But he didn't seem to care much any more. The chaplain, who had spoken the age-old words of a better world to come, had gone on to other soldiers who were wounded or lay dying. I His thoughts now were of home and of his mother. He remembered the happy, kindly face framed in the halo of graying hair. He wondered sadly if it had grown any grayer since he had last seen her. He thought of his snub-nosed kid sister, hdoshg she must be grown-up now,n he thought, and in spite of the pain, he smiled