Jefferson High School - Monticello Yearbook (San Antonio, TX)

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Army Service Forces Eighth Service Command BROOKE GENERAL HOSPITAL FORT SAM HOUSTON, TEXAS T. Guy Rogers, Principal Thomas Jefferson High School San Antonio, Texas. Dear Mr. Rogers: I wish to express my sincere thanks on behalf of the Staff of this hospital for the dedication of the Monticello Year Book to Brooke General Hospital. This high honor bestowed upon us is indeed deeply appreciated. At this time I should also like to express my thanks for the many service and inspection trips made here by the Jefferson students. The earnestness and enthusiasm of these young people in trying to do their “bit” for those men who have already given so much to the cause of freedom should certainly not go unnoticed. The unusualness of such an undertaking is most commend- able and I am certain there may be permanent good results from the work these students have done in their efforts to lend to the existing high morale of our patients. I trust that the friendship existing between the Thomas Jefferson High School and Brooke General Hospital will grow stronger with the years. Sincerely yours, GEORGE C. BEACH Brigadier General, U. S. Army COMMANDING. Page 6

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Our Serwice Flag A GROUP POEM BY THE ENGLISH VIII CLASSES OF MISS GRACE HUEY A blue star in a gleaming white field bounded by a wide red border — Fragments of colored silk, yet much more. The white field—endless expanses of sea and sky wherever our boys may be. The wide red border—prayers and the loving thoughts of the folks at home. And the blue of the star—our boys and girls on the fighting fronts—our friends, our classmates, The little chap with the grin on his face, the boy who lived next door. In the blue of the star— thousands of men in thousands of ships, plowing steadily through dangerous seas; Mosquito boats streaking the splashing waves; submarines stealthily stalking their prey. Giant carriers, on guard as havens of refuge; and mighty battleships blazing with thundering guns. In the blue of the star—long, silver wings in cloudless skies; Shadowy bombers on coast patrol monotonously circling—alert against the foe: B 17's roaring their song of power and victory in fog and snow over cold, grey mist- hidden islands, where an angry, surf breaks on a rocky shore, and alone bird cries: Millions of tiny flecks in the sky, laden with human cargoes of steel nerves, patience, loneliness, and the drone of deafening motors. In the blue of the star — our fighting men on a wide-flung battle line; Bronzed Marines landing on white, sandy beaches of palm-strewn islands, struggling bitterly foot by foot; Tired, grimy men cutting through dark, steaming jungles, or silently waiting in deso- late foxholes; Engineers building bridges mid flying shrapnel, and fighting men sloshing through mud and the rain; ae and artillery rumbling through narrow streets, past adobe huts or historic shrines. In the blue of the star —long lines of marching women, women in fighting men’s garb, standing shoulder to shoulder with brothers and sons, serving their country for freedom’s sake; And the gentle hands of the “Angels of Mercy,”’ soothing the stricken, easing the pain. A gold star now rises above the blue one—. A shining symbol of brave hearts and heroic lives given in sacrifice that we may be free; A challenge to us that from the sunset of their lives must come the dawn of a betier world than the one they knew. This is our tribute to our companions and friends, Our pledge that we are firmly behind them until the war is done— A blue star of hope and a gold star of faith on a gleaming white field bounded by a wide red border. Page 8