John Burroughs Middle School - Burr Yearbook (Los Angeles, CA)

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J ft ' . OW M f M ' • •••- . ' ■ . • • ■ Bo 16 i £t R.wou ! , J. B. DOES ITS SHARE Zooming through the air at about 400 m.p.h., diving and twisting, dodging anti-aircraft shells and enemy bullets, is the North Ameri- can P-51 Mustang fighter which was pur- chased by the sale of bonds and stamps here at J.B. The plane, one of the deadliest of its type, is hastening the day of victory. BACK TO TOKYO By CAROLYN ROAN Eagles are flying overhead To avenge America ' s martyred dead; Eagles, with bombs and guns to go Again o ' er the sea to Tokyo. Angry four-motored birds of war Clutching a message in each claw, A message of hate, to be specific, To the murdering men across the Pacific. Revenge, revenge, revenge, they call, Echoing the promises of us all, And ghosts of Doolittle ' s heroes will go Back o ' er the sea to Tokyo. PAGE TWENTY-TWO

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MY FRIEND ACROSS THE SEA By CONNIE CRONK I know a boy in the Navy blue Who ' s far across the sea. He may not yet be a hero to you, But he is a hero to me. For I knew him when he went to school, Full of pranks and loads of fun, Joking and clowning with the rest, And now he is firing a battleship ' s gun, For he answered the call When there was the need; From his steadfastness Let us take heed. He ' s doing his job And the going is tough; Are we at home Doing enough? CAMPFIRE MAGIC By VIRGINIA NELSON The bright orange and yellow flames of the fire licked greedly at the logs. Our small group was gay; singing songs, telling stories, roasting marshmallows and popping popcorn. As the fire slowly grew smaller, so did our group, as each fellow slipped silently away into the shadows. I sat staring into the fire, thinking there was such a feeling of the closeness of God, under those giant Sequoias; and the stars were so near that I could almost have reached up and plucked a handful out of the azure sky. As the last embers grew cold, I realized that I was also cold, and reluctantly slipped back to reality. FIELD OF BATTLE — ATHENS By GORDON RINGER Venezalos hated the Nazis with a hatred that consumed every fiber of his being. He had despised the conquerors ever since the first monocled, heel-clicking, saber-rattling German had confronted him and demanded the immediate surrender of his proud little country. His anger rose when he helplessly watched innocent hostages, fifty at a time, being led before the Gestapo guns. For over a year, he and a few of his former companions and fellow officers met in an abandoned cellar and planned for the day when the aggressors would be driven, once and for all, over the boundaries of Greece. Leaflets were distributed, and news of the war disseminated; but that was all. It was all, for the patriots know that if any acts of sabo- tage were committed, hundreds of guiltless Athenians would face a firing squad. Then the first reports of the American in- vasion of North Africa leaked through the German Intelligence. Venezalos and his com- rades decided to wage open guerrilla war- fare. They were aware that the Nazi High Command was feverishly doubling garrisons and sending supplies to the Balkans to avert a possible attack. Nazi officers began to disappear myste- riously, only to be found later, conveniently dead. Trucks, crammed with fresh troops for the Libyan front, were blown up. Bridges disintegrated under ammunition trains; in short, every conceivable method to halt Ger- man defense preparations was used. But even saboteurs meet with disaster. In Greece, as in Norway and other occupied lands, there were a few Quislings who were willing to sell out their countrymen for a few dirty pieces of silver. One night Venezalos confided a secret plot to destroy a warehouse to a personal friend. With the captain not knowing a thing about treachery, the ac- quaintance informed the Gestapo. As group of the Greek partisans huddled behind packing crates, they heard the tramp- ing of feet outside the storage house. Vene- zalos knew what had happened and ordered his companions to leave. He decided to remain and hold off the police until they could reach safety. The first unit of the Gestapo men burst through the door. Venezalos threw a grenade. The second followed; Venezalos had no gre- nade. He held the Germans off with a knife and revolver until some army guards brought a trench mortar. What the Greek knew, the Nazis did not. The room in which he was entrenched was loaded with tons of high explosives. The mortar went off; within ten seconds the area within ten acres was a charred mass of twisted steel and shattered wreckage. A few days later the Greek government in exile published a communique which stated simply yet proudly: Captain John Venezalos was killed in action, November 24, 1942. Field of battle, Athens! PAGE TWENTY-ONE

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A? : ??. . r £ THE NEWSPAPER By LOIS PETTEGREW The newspaper lands with a thud near the door, And Sis steps out and stoops to the floor. At the headlines she glances and says, What a bore! As she turns the pages with news galore She spies the page she ' s looking for. Bud comes in all out of sorts, He looks at the paper, Oh, boy! Sports! He grabs the paper from astonished Sis, The front page rips, but who cares about this? Mom comes in and glances at Bud, Oh, my goodness, just look at that mud! Now Bud, you go out and take off your shoes, As she picks up the paper and looks through the news. What a sweet little recipe. I just must have it, And she cuts it out, a usual habit. Dad comes in all tired from work And looks at the paper with a smirk. Who cut up this paper, and where ' s the front page? Nobody answers, but all stand amazed. Next morning the paper is all in a heap, It looks like something you should not keep. The maid comes in and looks at the bale, This will make good lining for my garbage paid. And that is the end of all its capers, It always happens to the Jones ' papers. THE UNCONQUERABLE CHINESE By BARBARA COTNER The Chinese race are a pople of hig spirits and aching hearts for the love of their fellow man. They have wronged no one and do not wish to be wronged by the hard-pressed aggressor. They are at peace with them- selves. Their are no hard, bitter feelings against fellow man. It is true that the Chinese have taken a lot in the last years, but they still go on living in their quiet, simple way. They could have a reason for hatred filled in their hearts, but they only think of the good things that they are thankful for, the good earth, the soil in which they have worked for hundreds of years. This soil has given them their villages, their food, their clothing and their own peaceful land, China. China means a great deal to these simple people. They have fought for it and loved it like a mother loves her child. They have not fought in vain. Though blood and tears may spread for many miles, they will keep love in their hearts and continue to till the soil, the good earth, until the end of time, and when the end of time comes they will still be a free nation, proud of the soil they call China, for the Chinese are an unconquer- able race. DESTINATION UNKNOWN By LOUISE KOSCHES All aboard! A few late comers jumped on board as the train lurched and then slowly started up the track. The shrill last minute whistle blared forth, the red light flashed a final warning, and they were off — destination unknown. A look back at the deserted station made one boy suddenly realize that this was the last time in many months, maybe forever, that he would be able to see his home, his town, and his familiar countryside. His fam- ily hadn ' t even been there to see him off as no one was able to know a troop train ' s time schedule. Oh, yes, they ' d said goodbye at home, Mom had cried a little too, as she wished her only son good luck in the army, and as dad and sis said to be sure and write. It wasn ' t the same, he thought, but as he glanced around at his silent comrades he saw that he wasn ' t the only one feeling just a slight wave of homesickness. The train had gathered speed now, and as he had a last glimpse of the station with its flag now a mere speck in the distance, he realized that it would be with his help that his family and friends would remain free and safe, and of out the enemy ' s brutal hands. As the train wheels rolled on he turned forward and looked ahead into the future, his future — destination unknown. PAGE TWENTY-THREE