Delta Secondary School - Lampadion Yearbook (Hamilton, Ontario Canada)

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He arrived right on time and we ate dinner, touching lightly on his yacht cruises and his fantastic man-like dummies. I learned that his tours went out only once a week-Saturday afternoons at one-thirty - and always with a full passenger list, (at $50.00 per person). After dinner I asked him about his dummies - their origin and make-up. He tried to explain the blood capsules, fibre hair, glass eyes, and procelain bones but finally invited me to have a look for myself. I was thrilled at the invitation and agreed to meet him one half -hour before his next excursion left, (at Silver Sands Harbour). Well, it was Saturday morning and the captain, who was detained at his home, assigned a deck-hand to show me the yacht. Now, Mr. Henley, we ' ll go an ' see the room the dummies are made in. Guess that ' s what you ' ve bin ' waitin ' to see. You don ' t know how long I ' ve been waiting for this. So let ' s go! Here ' s the room at the end of the corridor. I ' d go with you, but I got a job to do on this tub and I ' d better get to it. The boys in the room know that you ' re coming; so they ' ll show you around. O.K„ I ' ll see you later. Hey! This can ' t be the room! Open that door! This is only a closet! Yea, with a false bottom and power chute. See you later, dummie . John Slater 11G5 Jne Ardiault It was a dull, murky morning in September, as our boat pushed on through the choppy water, I could see the strain on the faces of the men. Even the old-timers had a taut look on their faces. Some puffed nervously on small butts; some stared blindly into the sea; and some, with heads bowed and hands clasped, were praying for their safety on this, a most perilous assault. Our destination was to be one of the Gilbert Islands. On the shore we could hear the shells from the ships taking huge chunks of earth out of the small islands with ear-piercing roars. Overhead, the planes were staging ah all-out battle with the enemy planes. The planes bursting into flames contrasted with the dullness of the day and the solemnity of everyone ' s spirit. Suddenly a voice of authority told us to prepare to land. Grasping my rifle and ammun- ition, I lined up to leave the landing craft. The door fell and the men plunged into the warm water of the Pacific. We were greeted with a welcoming committee of bullets. We sloshed

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Jlte Srantaitic cdjui ' .mm led I had been in Miami, Florida, many times before, but never had I awaited so anxiously for a sight-seeing trip as I had for the one planned that Saturday. Saturday afternoons were very dull and I dreaded every one I spent in Miami. It was just the usual hustle-bustle down to cne rowded beaches or to the main shopping centres-pushing through pie-eyec r tourists ah the way. But this Saturday would be different — an unforgettable experience, I was told. I could hardly wait for one-thirty, when I would board the yacht. I left my hotel at one o ' clock and headed for the popular Silver Sands Harbour. I arrived at twenty after, and stood looking at the yacht. At one-thirty, I boarded it promptly to assure myself of a tour of the vessel before we departed. However, I was met by a tall, well-tanned man who showed me directly to my assigned lounge chair. My position towards the rear of the boat enabled me to see the glass bottom and the sights, comfortably. I was asked to remain here throughout the tour. Soon all the passengers were in their places and wondering at the yacht and its motel-like qualities (actually, yachts like this one are common in Miami). Finally, we got under way and, bored, I sat looking at the wonderful (?) sights I had seen many times. At this point I was convinced that I had wasted another fifty ' bucks on an or- dinary cruise. I was soon to learn how wrong I was in assuming this. In about an hour, we approached a small, swamp-like inlet I had never seen before. As we entered, a few of the tourists began noticing tropical fish and sea plants . I was not interested until one of the passengers claimed that he saw an alligator. The surroundings resembled the Everglades; so, I came to the conclusion that it was possible but not probable. As I sat staring through the glass bottom, a piece of raw meat appeared, obviously being towed by the boat. Seconds later, alligators (about four of them) began tearing at the meat. Suddenly, a dummy was shot into the group of gators (from a power chute under the boat). When the alligators ripped at it a red substance (representing blood) was ejected into the water. The alligators left only a skeleton. (This looked much like a real skeleton. I had never seen a real skeleton, but this dummy was exactly in proportion-it was unbelievable.) As I left the boat that day, and at dinner, I could not help thinking of that dummy. I de- cided then to find out how and where these fantastic dummies were manufactured. Fortunately I was free the next night; I invited the owner over for dinner.

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up onto the beach and prepared to make our first stand. It was then for the first time that I saw a man killed. As I looked at him lying there I made a solemn oath that I would make them pay for their unhuman murders. I vowed to slaughter every enemy on this island. My thoughts were halted as a mortar blasted away the sand ahead of me, throwing tiny sand crystals stinging into my face. It was like running on a tread-mill as I darted for the exterior foliage of the thick, tropical jungle. I reached the trees to find myself alone, because while I had stopped to see the unfortunate man slain on the sand the others had surged ahead. I proceeded with caution, stepping ever so carefully through the plentiful undergrowth. Suddenly my whole body was hurled to the side, and a terrible pain shot through my leg. Rolling over, I noticed that my leg was broken. I looked for my rifle and saw it was ten yards to one side of me. I tried to reach it by pulling myself along the ground, but found the pain unbearable. The crackling sound of a twig diverted my attention. The sight I saw when I turned around made me forget all my pain. It was an enemy carrying a long knife. I was immobile. All I could do was lie there and wait for this killer to murder me. It was a terrible way to die, at the hands of a filthy savage. As he drew near, I could see his fiendish face, his squinting eyes that I wished I could have gouged out. He stood above me, knife in hand, and looked. I felt my end was near. To my amazement he turned and began to cut down small trees. Returning, he grasped my leg and gave it a quick jerk. He was setting my leg. He took off my belt, then his, and strapped the wood onto my injured leg. As I looked into his face, I saw no savage maniac, no murderer, no fiendish killer, but a fellowman. His eyes had a look of pity in them. He finished with my leg; then he dropped some rations on the ground beside me, and left as he came. I was found later and carried back to our newly made camp, where I was allowed to rest. My recovery left me plenty of time to think and try to find an answer for this rare happening. I came to the conclusion that God had given every man of every race a kind heart, and from a kind heart comes pity for a fellowman, no matter what the circumstances and no matter what his colour. John Morrow 11G5 aUrum LorpA 7 Drum Corps? What ' s that? Oh, I know your ' fabulous corps ' but just what are ' drum corps ' ? I like music that has melody, as well as rhythm. I don ' t think I ' m interested. What? Well, yes, I guess I could go, just once, to see what you ' re talking about.Yes, of course I mean