Hartland Academy - Ripple Yearbook (Hartland, ME)

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scriber will answer, I want Mr. Smith's res- idence, the one that lives in the brown house on that street over there. Of course, that is extremely defiinte information. The operator feelgf that perhaps she is a trifie dense this morning so she asks for additional informa- tion. The reply is apt to be: Well, for hea- yen's sake, don't you know anything? I should th'nk they would get some operators that knew something! The operator bites her tongue for sticks it outl, but politely says, 'Tm sorryg I'll try to find the number for you. In the distance you can hear the sub- scriber sputtering away about such terrible service. It is most interesting to be a night opera- tor. You hear the day's gossip hashed over and over againg you can listen in on the long distance callsg you may even find time to call up a friend of your own. But eventually, you decide it's safe to attempt a nap. Whango! the night alarm goes off and some person with no consideration for the operator wants to know the correct time, The easiest answer would certainly be a grouchy Time for you to be in bed! But very politely, instead, you say, Exactly 2:07 A. M. Many conscientious operators are beaten before they begin, hut many, even after twen- ty years of such cruelty, can still say polite- ly, and even enthusiastically, Number please? -Keith Cunningham '44 il .i- THE RIGHT T0 LAUGH Laughter in the United States is something that has been fought for through genera- tions. The gurgling laugh of the blue-eyed ba- by as he sits contendedly in his crih in the early May sunshine: the laughter of school chilidren as they fill the streets in the late afternoons: the cracked laugh of an old, white-haired couple as they look through the old snapshot album,-all are tr e a s u re s. Laughter is what America is built of. Every day, yes, a hundred times a day, a laugh fills our face and heart. Today the greatest iight of all is being fought for the right to laugh. The Americans are a sentimental people and they are proud of it. We laugh and cry about things in spite of the scorn of other countries. But it makes us stronger, for should we ever lose the right to our senti- mentalities, we would fight with all the soul -I for our wonderful country, until that right was regained. Today from our war-torn world there are homes from which all laughter is gone. People have had the laughter torn from their hearts to be replaced by bitterness and tears. All over the world homes are sad, robbed of joy 'by the selfishness of dictators or the necessity of sending their loved ones, to quell the am- bitions of dictators. America is filled with homes like these. Yesterday at the post office as I glanced over Mrs. Murphy's shoulder and saw the words, The government regrets to inform you that your son... I knew that another heart had had its laughter cruelly wrenched from it to be crushed and trampled to extinc- tion. Mr. and Mrs. Murphy had only Johnnv, and he was so young, hardly eighteen. But do we realize what a priceless thing was taken from this couple besides their son? The power to enjoy everyday existance, the capability of a smile spreading over their faces at trivial homely things-these are gone w'th their precious possession, Johnny. It isn't the people of this generation who are losing their laughter, for the boys will try to smile as they go into battle. It is rather the last generation. who are mothers and fathers now, that are bearing the loss. Someday the laughter will return to ns. Life will he simple and enioyaible again. Parents will see their boys grow to manhood instead of being cut off at the ouick of life. This day can come only when the papers and radio: scream. Unconditional Surrender! The na- tion will go Wild. bells and chimes will fill the still air. people will dance in Times SUVTPTE and Fifth Avenue. The srmall towns will he filled again with happiness. The neonle who have given their sons will think it was almost worth the sacrifice. Then. and only then. will the right to lanrrh be wholly regained by the American people. -Marilyn Mills '46 HOMECOMING The soldier sauntered. it' it is possible to sminter with a wooden leg. along a street in Brooklyn. He kept looking about him intent- ly and breething-deep! He had a look of serene peacefulness on his face! As he walked on slowly, a trifle awkward- 18 1-

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So that was the scheme! Life meant abso- lutely nothing to Gil. He was willing to die in order that others might live. If he could just get to the end of that line before his supply of gas was gone or the motor failed. Ah! there were no more moving lights. Gil turned the plane and. healded -straight for the invad- ers, giving them a shower of bullets as a warning. It fdid not take long to get a reply. The hand machine guns barkedg they had spotted him as he turned to face them. Some of the bul- lets missed, but others found their mark! Gil had carried out his plan-he had uncovered the trap of the enemy which would have like- ly meant defeat to his fellows. Now there is another cross in the battle- field-a new cross in a new battlefield. It reads: Lt. Gil Randall, Jr. who, as an Americanxsoldier went beyond the call of duty is greatly honored as a hero by his countrymen and will not be forgotten. -Achsah Farrell '46 Over There Monday Morning Dearly Beloved , No letter today g have you forgotten so soon? Remember me , Mary ? My heart tells me I love you trulyu. 'Til we meet again look for the silver lining , because when the cruel war is over your wandering lJoy's returning home . Keep the home fires burning always , Somebody's gotta slap the dirty little Jap 'fbeyond the blue horizon . There'll be some changes made right in their own back yard . It won't be long now! Good-bye now , I'll see you in my id-reams. Yours , KlJim97 P. S. I love you. -Joyce Plumer '44 All in a Day's Work OR By One Who Knows Have you ever been a telephone operator? Have you ever been in a telephone exchange office? If not, you certainly 1don't know what you've lbeen missing. Why don't you start right now to your nearest exchange? At the sight of the switchboard, do not be alarmed. It has not been known to bite, al- though it does give some pretty hot argu- ments occasionally. The first thing you will notice is the operator constantly repeating, Number please? Have they answered? Pm sorry, I'll ring again. She probably im- presses you as being very polite, but you should hear what the subscriber says to hier! For her politeness she may receive such re- sponses as this: H506 and don't take all day albout it! Then perhaps after four or five minutes of insistent ringing the subscrilber will say, If tired, will you ring again ? and no answer, you aren't too the blame for at a telephone exchange. If a person receives the wrong num- ber, it is automatically the operator's fault. It couldn't possibly be that the caller gave her the wrong number. The operator has to take everything that goes wrong Besides the haughty remarks, which, of course every operator must contend with, she must be a traveling encyclopedia for the sur- rounding country. Here are a few items which any operator should be familiar with. First of all, she should know the numbers of all the telephones in the state. Then she should iknow the prices of all the latest hair-dos, who was operated on at the hospital, who has just had a baby, whose father just died, who eloped last Saturday night, and all the rest of the local gossip and scandal. When the fire alarm rings, everyone within a radius of fifty miles has to know where the fire is. It makes no difference whether they can get to the fire or help in any way, they must call central just to be sure. Then, of course, the same alarm is usually sounded at seven A. M. as a no-school warning. The op- erator then goes frantic telling every child from five to twenty-one that there is no school. Naturally, they are so pleaseld that they say, Huh? , just to hear her repeat the good news. This is all highly entertaining to the busy operator. Of all the subscribers, the worst ones are those that never know the number. Really there is no excuse for this because every one has a directory or can easily obtain one. It's just too much for some people to use the di- rectory. Here is what often happens. The op- erator will say, Number please? The sub- -I 17 J-

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dy yet, he thought, Gee, it's wonderful to be home. Home! Maybe he hadn't learned the meaning of that word during the past two years of fighting. How quiet it seemed. Why, even the noise of the elevated and the remem- bered roar of the sulbway seemed quiet be- sides the guns' roar that he was accustomeid to now. It's nice to be able to walk securely and not have to keep looking behind, always expecting' one of those slant eyed .laps to pop you off. What's the use of reliving that hell? Nights were still full of nightmares. He wondered how long it would be before he could fully realize that he was home, and safe! Funny, people are so understanding about the leg. They don't pry about with questions of how it happeneld, and did it hurt, and all that stuff. But then, that's the American peo- ple, the people that he gave the leg for. Any- way, it's a help to avoid' all those questions because it's hard adjusting to being home. Ann is swell about it too. In fact, she and Mom are most swell of all. S'pose the people who love you would naturally be. Here's the corner. Remember the fun with the boys playing marbles here? Golly! How we did hate to go on to school after the noon hour here. It was a perfect corner to play marbles on. The hole for the pot was gone, but memory puts it back completely, right where it belonged. Well, almost home now. Mom and Ann will be waiting and anxious. Mom said not to hurry, but she'll want him there for dinner. Mom's dinners-another thing worth fighting for, and boy, were they good? -Beverley Wood '44 MY FIRST AIRPLANE RIDE Never, if I live to be a thousanld, shall I forget my first airplane ride. It held excite- ment and more sensations than anything I 'had ever experienced. Did you ever ache to do something that you were scared to death to do? And did your skin ever get all goose pimples and your teeth clatter on the hottest day of the year? If you've been through that, you'll know exactly how I felt. I made my first ascent in Bangor. The plane was, a large one, capable of carrying seventeen or eighteen passengers. Anyway, I seemed to be all rigiht until I saw two or three people come down. They said they wouldn't advise anyone to go up just then, so I didn't feel so gay. At that moment of indecision, the man who opened the door -I don't know what you'd call him-pointed his finger at me and shouted, Nez-rt! I hoped that the ground would open up and swallow me on the spot. The ground 'did tremble a little, or was it my kneesm? Encouraged by the shaking. I stood a moment waiting to be swallowed up. No such luck, however, and in another mo- ment I was actually inside the thing, holding hands very tightly with myself. I silently -thought I would like to swap places with the lowest creature on earth. I' gave one long last look at the surrounding landmarks. and thought of all the good times I had had there. Then we were starting skyward. I distinctly remembered eating breakfast that morning. so I can't account for the hollow feeling in the bottom of my stomach. To my intense relief, it was great fun after the first few moments of anguish. Neverthe- less, throughout the trip I didn't trust myself to let go of my own hands! When we came down, it was too soon for me. An airplane ride is like an oliveg you have to learn to like it -Ivan Crocker, '44 WAR Johnny crept as quickly as he could, without taking the chance of being seen, behind' a vacant shack. He hoped his enemies hadn't seen him, for it would surely mean destruc- tion of him.. It was he against a battery of perhaps fifteen. What chance had he? He sat down on the damp ground and breathed a sigh of relief. They hadn't seen him! He sat there motionless for five minutes, his gun ready to shoot if he heard the slight- est movement. I gotta go on, he thought. He had run only a few yards farther when the bullets whizze-d around him. One struck his leg, and he sank to the ground. He threw his gun a few feet from him as several soldiers gathered about. They ordered him to march toward a small hut in the dis- tance. He limped ahead of them. They shoved him through the door. The masked chief made his voice ve1'y gruff when he spoke. Search him for hidden wea- pons, and then to Johnny, Have you any- thing to say before you are courtmartialed? Nothing, he answered meeklyg but when -E 19 1-