Fryeburg Academy - Academy Bell Yearbook (Fryeburg, ME)

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4 ii Eli I I My Biggest Catch UNCLE Joe and I were returning from the last outpost, a lighthouse built upon a rock twelve miles from our home port at Long Island, Maine. It had been a routine trip for Uncle Joe and his men, but it was a new expe- rience for me. I had seen a lot of the sea in the past years with my father, but he had never taken me this far from the island. Ever since Pearl Har- bor Dad and Joe had been members of a secret organization under opera- tion Watch Dog. Now a month after my seventeenth birthday I was a sworn member of the crew whose job it was to watch carefully for strange craft or suspicious characters while fishing about the island. The grey of dusk was swiftly turning into the black of night. We were now approaching the back shore of our island. Two miles further along the coast there was a sheltered harbor, my home, supper, and a warm bed. Then suddenly the unpredictable dissolved my dreams of comfort. The regular purr of the engine became broken and a few seconds later died completely. Our momentum and a swift current carried us around the point. Before anyone could say a word. I saw a big splash on the far side of the cove. Thinking it to be a whale, I pointed it out to the others. What I saw next made me freeze in horror. The spray subsided revealing a submarine. No one dared to move a muscle. as the sub moved slowly along the shore. Seconds passed like hours. Finally, we discerned that their desti- nation was about five hundred yards out from the middle of the beach. The hatch opened, and two men climbed out carrying a rubber raft with them. A third appeared to help them launch their craft, store supplies, and to watch for their safe landing. Five minutes later their raft had dis- appeared behind an abandoned cabin several hundred yards back from the shore. The sub made its way swiftly and silently from the cove and disappeared beneath the surface. The moonlight which revealed the whole operation was fortunately shut from us by the tall evergreens on the embankment to the left. We

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RAYMOND CARROLL LAMONT, Raym GENERAL COURSE Born January 23, 1933 Residence, East Hiram, Maine Ambition P P F Ifeaknexs Blondes Faiforite saying Heck LEONARD ALLEN LEVINE COLLEGE COURSE Born April 16, 1934 Residence, Princeton, New Jersey Entered froni Hun School of Princeton, '50. Skiing C333 Tennis 13, 41, Prize Speaking 133. y Ambition To be a psychiatrist Weakness Being late Fava-rite sayin-g What was that question, sir?

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26 The Academy Bell now anchored the boat, for it was dangerous to try the engine. We gave the sub time to get out of earshot, then through our ship-to-shore tele- phone Joe got in contact with the F.B.I. in Boston. Our membership num- ber and a few clear, concise directions were all that they needed. Four hours later, at approximately nine-thirty that evening, a navy patrol plane glided over the tree tops and landed not twenty yards from us. The plane was made fast to our boat. Three F.B.I. men listened to our story. With Joe and me as guides, the men went ashore and arrested the German spies. At ten-thirty the craft rose like a phantom from the smooth, glassy plain taking with it the biggest catch of my life. BENNIE DAVIS, '52 The Chase IT was a hot summer day. The sky was as cloudless as a clear blue pool. The sun seemed to be everywhere, creeping into the dark, shady spots and making them as hot as the rest of the world. The grass in our yard was burned crisp and brown, having been recently clipped short with a lawn mower. The temperature had sky-rocketed to 900, and to the poor animals it was misery. As l reclined in my much-sought-after hammock stretched beneath the only two trees in our yard, I gazed across the wide expanse of our pasture and wondered how it could still be green in spite of the hot weather. It was a deep emerald green with only a slight fading in color at the tips. It waved on like a painted sea walled in by the fence around it and was broken only by an occasional boulder. There was one huge rock at the west end which outdid all the others. It was gigantic and provided enough shade for at least two cows to lie in. As I dozed in my shady spot, there crept into my daydreams a picture which creeps into every young person's dreams, I am sure, at one time or another if he relishes food at all. My dream's intrusion was a huge wedge of strawberry shortcake, weighted down by juicy red strawberries and lit- erally buried in luscious whipped cream. On top of my dream dish perched a magnificent sweet red strawberry, large and round. My dream had been born as a result of the rock on the west side of the pasture, for it had re- minded me of my many excursions to it to gather the sweet, wild strawber- ries which grew around its base. As a result of association, I had created and gazed upon a dish of strawberry shortcake, too mouthwatering and perfect for words. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed worth the effort to again return to the boulder to pick more of the fruit with