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Page 28 text:
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GREAT SPIRIT By NEVIN HOUGH Small of stature, fragile in appearance. Such a little thing as she stood before us to receive our homage. Stood silently for a few mo- ments, then began to speak. Not as an orator, or a person of great power, but as a friend telling us of her people, her country, her home. Reminding us of the beauty and knowledge their centuries of civilization and culture had given us — Confucius, porcelain, paper, silk, tea, the compass. Telling us of their lives when there wa s no war. A period when sim- ple people tilled their soil, planted their seed, tended their crops, rejoiced at their harvest, and planned another spring planting. She told of the pitiful unpreparedness of her country to meet the greed and cruelty of the invading nation. Of the migration of a people, the old, the young, to distant places, burning the villages, destroying the cities they left behind lest they give comfort to the enemy. How they carried with them piece by piece, the material to re-establish the schools and libraries in the new home they must make for themselves. Told of the broken bodies of her people and of their spirit which had remained strong and unbroken throughout the long cruel years of war. Told of her belief in her people, in the future of her people. It was a perfect day, and there was beauty all about us as she spoke to the twenty thou- sand people in the bowl, but I am sure that everyone present was conscious only of the grand beauty of her spirit, her strength, her courage, her integrity. AIR RAID WARNING By CARL SPERRY A wailing siren cuts the night. Fat old ladies shake with fright; The old maid next door awakes to find A warden behind her Venetian blind. The neighborhood dogs take up the song, But seem to get the motive wrong. The noisy party across the street Is broken up by the warden ' s tweet. A family of ten run helter-skelter For their diminutive air raid shelter. But a little later the all-clear sounds, And the warden to his cold bed bounds. After all this trouble and preparation, Which might have continued throughout the nation, The paper announces to our dubious delight, That there was a practice air raid last night. CHINA ' S FIRST LADY By MARGIE STUEBING Proudly she stood, and alone, facing the masses of people who had crowded into Madi- son Square Garden to hear and to see her. She stood erect and majestically, capturing the hearts of everyone. Her black gown echoed the darkness of the murky night and its golden trim reflected the brilliant lights which glared upon her from above. The mul- titude hushed into a deep silence. China ' s Madame Chiank Kai-Shek was speaking. YOU By JOHN MESTAKIDIS You are the fellow that has to decide Whether you ' ll do it or toss it aside. You are the fellow who makes up your mind Whether you ' ll lead or linger behind; Whether you ' ll try for the goal that ' s afar Or be contented to stay where you are. Take it or leave it, here ' s something to do; Just think it over — it ' s all up to you! PAGE TWENTY-SIX
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Page 27 text:
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A NIGHT TO REMEMBER By ERNESTINE HIGGINS As it is usually known, sudden storms are common along the Eastern seaboard. I was staying at a stately mansion, that had been turned into a private club, spending the re- maining month of my vacation. It was late afternoon, and I was sitting on the steps of the spacious veranda, lazily watching my four weary friends coming up the path. It was a hot, sweltering day — one of those days when all you think of is keeping cool. Nearly everyone was back from the beach, either lying on his bed upstairs or lounging on the veranda waiting for dinner. A sultry sort of peaceful quietness hung over us, and the only noise was the soft clatter of dishes and the buzzing of those infernal mos- quitoes. None of us was prepared or even expected what was to come. After dinner we all gathered in the large living room, for tonight was Tuesday night when the members of the Club participated in some kind of entertainment. Usually it was the younger crowd that depicted some of the things that had occurred during the week. It was about ten o ' clock when the crack of lightning and the rumble of the thunder pierced the gaiety. Ten minutes later the lights went out. A heavy wind started, and, before we could get out on the veranda to put the chairs against the wall, the wind had switched, upturned and thoroughly dishev- eled them. Scurrying around in the dark with the wind howling, the rain driving on the veranda, and most of us wearing rubber soled shoes, was no picnic. Finally, after fixing the chairs, putting down the windows in the up- stairs rooms, and bumping into each other, we landed in one piece back in the living room. By this time the older people decided that the wisest thing to do was to go upstairs and leave us to the downstairs. At four o ' clock the next morning the lights went on; the storm was over. That night will always be remem- bered by all of us who were there with the ghost stories made real by the darkness, the rain beating against the window sills, and the fierceness of the blinding lightning and thun- der. But that morning, as the sun came up in the eastern sky, we all knew that the day would be a perfect one. OUR SHIPS WILL SAIL ON By MARCIA SHER Although this war will bring, Disaster and remorse, Our ships will sail onward With freedom as their course. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO PRESERVE FREEDOM? By SHERWOOD FEINBERG Far away on the battlefield of Guadalcanal a lifeless Marine lies in the muck and mire of a calmmy South Sea swamp. He died that we Americans at home might live to enjoy the freedom and the principles of a democratic life. His body reflects the determination of the American fighting man. We have been troubled with petty rationing difficulties here at home, but we have not yet been called upon for the supreme sacrifice, the surrender of our very existence, so that other Americans might live in a world free from the menace of dictators, storm troopers and the chilling staccato of a firing squad. He died that we might live. But have American people done enough fighting on the home front to justify the slaughter of even one of our country ' s fighters? Some of us here at home are putting forth the maximum effort, but even that is not enough, for our greatest effort can not bring back the lives of our doughboys. The maxi- mum can never equal the American blood that has painted a crimson trail of success on allth e battlefields of the globe. STAGE FRIGHT By GLORIA HYDE There I stood in the wings of the audi torium. The music came to an end and the dancers glided off the stage. I had a horrible elevator feeling in my stomach as I heard my chord. For one sickening moment I knew that I could not step out onto that stage — and then there I was. The music started and I was miraculously turning and swaying with the music. The hours and days of practicing had not been in vain. I didn ' t forget the dance. Suddenly it was all over, the bowing, applause, and excitement. But now that it was all over I strangely knew that I had wanted it to last forever. After all my fear and stagefright I had wanted my first recital to last always. A CHILD ' S PRAYER By MIGNON MASOWITZ Protect my father, please, dear Lord, So he ' ll come back to us some day, To live the way that free folks should, With liberty to laugh and play. Let me be brave enough to stand, Without the fear of war ' s defeat. Give me now a helping hand So future trials I ' ll bravely meet. PAGE TWENTY-FIVE
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Page 29 text:
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YOUR SHARE? By SHERWOOD FEINBERG Beneath the fields of flowers, Away from booming shells, The doughboys now are resting, Away from human hells. To die for God and nation, For family and for right, The spirit of the fighting free, Insured our country ' s might. The inborn lust for battle, The spirit of the fray, To shear them down like cattle, Was the cry from day to day. The whistle of the strafing plane, The rumbling of the tanks, No fear secreted in the hearts Of bold and daring Yanks. Those doughboys died a thousand deaths, On land, on air, on sea, Would you not die a thousand times, To keep your country free? LIFE IN THE MERCHANT MARINE By JOHN MESTAKIDIS The life of an American merchant seaman on one of our new cargo ships isn ' t what it was in the good old days. To be sure, the risks are greater, the hardships under attack are worse. But an oldtime sailor would be surprised at the provisions made for his com- fort during the voyage. . The speedy efficienty C-type vessels, pride of the U. S. Maritime Commission, have the finest crew accommodations of any cargo ships afloat. American tankers are exception- ally well equipped from the seaman ' s stand- point. Other vessels, such as Liberty ships and various types of smaller cargo carriers, have less elaborate but equally clean and comfortable crew accommodations. Men who remember the dank,, ill-ventilated, unheated and dirty glory holes or fo ' c ' sles where all the sailors were crowded into one room and the engine crew into another, there to eat, sleep and live, are amazed at living quarters amidships where crews have outside staterooms, four men or less to a room. Many new ships have forced air ventilation through- out, and all have dry, well-heated, clean quar- ters. Instead of shifting for himself, the sailor ' s bed is made and his room kept tidy by the steward ' s department which also waits on him at table. 3 u2T THE VACANT CHAIRS By MARILYN HIRSHFELD Perhaps the most enjoyable time of day is at dinner. At this hour the family settles down to eat and talk over various matters, as during the day they have seen little of each other. But somehow, now it is not quite the same a sit used to be. That vacant chair across the table where there once sat a boy. Many families now have a vacant chair or chairs at the dinner table. These chairs are a symbol of freedom. Their occupants are fighting so that once more whole families may sit around their dinner tables in peace and security. PAGE TWENTY-SEVEN
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