Isaac Newton High School - Newtonian Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

Page 44 text:

42 ISAAC NEWTON HIGH SCHOOL THINGS ftot menttMtecC in a fenuttivty- ictf ACTUAL figures of a printing bid never tell the complete story! There are too many essentials to better printing service which cannot be priced in dollars. Yet, these mean much to the buyer of printing. FOR instance, there is no charge in our estimates for Experience—and this certainly is important! Like¬ wise, our estimates do not mention such essentials as: Pride in workmanship—reputation for good printing —care given to details—record for keeping promises -reliability in making delivery dates. ALL these are important in saving you time and money. They are necessarily a part of better printing service. You can be certain of receiving all of these essentials by calling the Ketchen Printing Company FIRST. KETCHEN PRINTING COMPANY fo “Da ' tytxvi 197 Princess Street Telephone 26 665 Have you a printing problem? If so, consult Walter Lewicki, Newton graduate of ’29.

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44 ISAAC NEWTON HIGH SCHOOL s4 0 7 vc t ' pate FIRST PRIZE Oberleutnant Karl Heidelburg had been in Squadron 36 for three months now, posing as Pilot Officer James Cart¬ wright. He had become a part of the squadron, had even blasted three of his own countrymen to a flaming death to play his role the more effectively. Squadron 36 was in a vital area and his job was to report its movements to the German High Command. In this way the Nazis could forestall any Allied attempt to gain information regarding the desperately guarded secrets of this vital area. A drone of returning aircraft inter¬ rupted Cartwright’s train of thought. He looked out through the small win¬ dow of his cubicle at the wind-swept barren desert aerodrome to see four battle-scarred Spitfires sweep in, drop their wheels and roll up to the line. Six had left and now four were return¬ ing, two of them nothing but battered wrecks, still flying only because of the grace of God and a little luck. Yes, Karl Heidelburg had been suc¬ cessful but as time wore on, innumerable doubts began to raise their ugly heads in the eternally suspicious mind of one Flight-Lieutenant Allan Eardheart. Why he wondered, was Cartwright always knocking around with the radio-man? Why should his plane be damaged only once, and then only slightly in all the three months he had been ther e. Of course Cartwright had an inkling of the Lieutenant’s suspicions, but as far as he knew, they had not been shared with anyone else. Cartwright knew his luck would not hold out very long with a questioning character such as Eard¬ heart around, so, he concluded, he must put that gentleman out of the way. Cartwright stepped from his hut and walked over to the operations shack. His sharp hello, addressed to Eardheart, snapped the lieutenant’s head around. Casually, Eardheart replied, “Hello, Cartwright. Still got the original paint on your bus, I see.” “Yes,” replied Cartwright, his eyes probing the Lieutenant’s, trying to search him out, “but I suppose I’ll get it scratched one of these days.” Eardheart was about to reply when the loud bellow of the O.C. boomed out over the tarmac. The men made their various ways over the burning sand to the mess hall where the old man gave them the low-down on the situation on the other side of the fence. Squadron Leader Holmes did not be¬ lieve in mincing words. “Men,” he said, “we’re taking a beating. German H.Q. has something on the ball and we have to find out what it is. Too many of our kites have been written off the books trying to get shots of the enemy linoleum. So I’m going to send a cap¬ tured German job over and see if our luck takes a turn. I would like our most experienced man, Lieut. Eard¬ heart, to take the job, but if you fellows want a chance at it, we’ll draw lots.” Not an objection was raised. The men admired and respected Holmes’ opinion and if he said it was best, it was as far as they were concerned. “Very well, Eardheart,” said the O.C., “see me in my office in an hour and we’ll go over the plans.” The men dispersed, all except Cart¬ wright. His cunning Nazi mind was already humming. Here was his chance to destroy the one man who suspected him and to get a Nazi aeroplane out of Allied hands. He must work fast. The lieutenant took off at dawn tomorrow. Tonight he must get to the radio shack. Then, a short, cryptic message to his superiors. A description of the aircraft and a special warning to get rid of its pilot. Came the night and with it silence. There were no night patrols from this station and consequently there was only a negligible amount of activity. Cart¬ wright hurried through the black desert night to the radio shack. In a few minutes his message was hurtling through the ether. Eager German ears