Maynard High School - Screech Owl Yearbook (Maynard, MA)

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THE SCREECH OWL 5 Did you hear that they are going to make us work on farms this summer? I, for one, shan’t, anyhow!” Me neither, I’m not going to sweat in any hot field for anybody and maybe get sunstroke. Nothing doing!” At first I agreed with them most heartily, but the more I pondered the question, the more doubtful I became. Soon I came to the con- clusion that those girls and I typically were thinking only of our own side, ignoring com- pletely that of the farmer and consumer. We all agree that because of the rationing of canned foods, housewives are turning more and more to fresh fruits and vegetables, which as yet have not been rationed. Should they, however, be- come scarce, they would soon be subject to ra- tioning. This misfortune can only happen when the farmers, because of lack of farm help, must leave their crops in the fields to rot. This is a tremendous loss to the farmer, not only finan- cially, but because he realizes that he has failed in his duty to supply food for our people and allies in ravaged Europe, China, and Africa. This fact causes many small farmers to close up and seek work elsewhere, a calamity which must be avoided. Thereore, because of the shortage of manpower, it falls upon us, the students, to assume responsibility in such a crisis. Girls may speak of spoiling their complexions in hot fields, but I can say from personal ex- perience that the fresh air, sunlight, and exer- cise derived from working outdoors in summer play an important role in keeping one healthy throughout the year. So when the question of farm labor arises, let us be prepared to go and say in unison We’re ready!” Sirkka Koskinen, ’ 44 . m Warriors of Today — Builders of Tomorrow The United States Army, Navy, and Marine Corps are made up of men and boys — yes, I said boys, for seventeen and eighteen-year-olds are not men — from all over the United States of America. Among them can be found almost every kind of race, every form of human nature, and every religion that exists. To every single one of them, the life in the service is hard, more so to some than to others. To him who has had to do no work in his life, who has had to face no hardships, it is most difficult; while to the one who has slaved to earn his living, who has worked hard, it is fairly easy. But all, weaklings as well as he-men, will come out of the service better men than when they went in. The process of changing from a frail, frightened boy to a strong and daring man is extremely difficult, but it is well worth the effort when we analyze what the soldier of today will be in the post-war world. We all realize that the war must end sooner or later, and that when it does the present large Army of the United States must dwindle down to a smaller fighting force. What will all these ex-soldiers do? They will become private citizens, leading a quiet life, just as their parents were before this war. Only they will become better citizens than their forefathers, because the present United States fighting forces are not only being trained to become fighters, defending their country from the grasp of the dictators, but also to be good, plain, honest citizens. In the Army, Navy, and Marines there is no such word as can’t” and conse- quently, when the men leave these branches of the service, there will also be no can’t in their civilian lives. Thus, when some great national crisis arises, the men now being trained how to meet every emergency will settle it with less difficulty than in the past. Therefore, when you next see a soldier, don’t think of him only as a fighter but as THE BUILDER OF TOMOR- ROW.” Roy Helander, ’ 44 . Thanks! To the business men, who, by their adver- tisements in the pages of the Screech Owl, have enabled us to publish without interruption for the past sixteen years, we extend our heartiest thanks. To the teachers and students we also express appreciation for their co-operation in the fur- nishing of material and in the sale of the magazine. Their comments and suggestions have been of the utmost help to us. — Staff

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☆ Editorials Goodbye to Maynard High School It was only a few months ago that I found myself extending a welcome to the Freshman Class from the students of Maynard High, and now here I am deeply engrossed in writing ’43’s farewell to that self-same school. How the time has flown since that never-to-be-for- gotten day in September, 1939, when we, as Freshmen, entered high school! During our Freshman and Sophomore years it was difficult to get along at first, but soon we began to take an active part in things, attending all socials and athletic events. When these two years ended, we found ourselves anxious to go on to our last two years — to us, themost important of all. Just the thought of them brought to mind what was ahead. In our Junior year the Prom and class rings were foremost in those somewhat silly heads of ours, but like other things they now are only memories. Then came the year 1943. To the Seniors it had only one meaning — graduation. Now as the day draws nearer we begin to realize its full significance. It’s not just dances, an outing, and a banquet, but the time when we shall de- part and bid farewell to our classmates and teachers. Each one will go his own way; the boys no doubt will join the ranks of those al- ready in the service of their country and the girls will assume a greater responsibility than ever before filling the vacancies in business or industry. We must thank the faculty and especially Miss Wilson, our class adviser, for their willing- ness to help us. We realize we have been diffi- cult to manage at times, but, nevertheless, every- thing turned out all right in the end. And so, with always a thought for the days gene by, the class of ’43 bids farewell to its alma mater, dear old Maynard High. - — Editor. Unconquerable Spirit How many of you have realized that China, our ally, has been fighting the Japs for more than five years? The Chinese have no modern equipment to speak of, yet they have held back the barbarous peoples with whom we are at war. How do they do it? It is their unconquerable spirit. Even the children have joined in this struggle for freedom. At the beginning of the inci- dent” between China and Japan, the Chinese guerillas needed time to remove valuable ma- chinery out of Shanghai; so the Japs had to be delayed. The children of a little village organ- ized themselves as the Little Devils,” and ranged from five years old up. They barricaded the town walls, and the Japs, thinking there was an army behind them, were delayed three days. On the fourth, they decided to storm the walls. The children went over the top and threw all the hand grenades they had. When the village was finally taken, not one of the hundred children was alive. However, they did not die in vain. All the able-bodied men had left the village, and the Japs had been detained long enough for the guerillas to get away. That is just one example of the fighting Chinese. Put yourself in the place of one of those children and ask yourself if you would die such a horrible death for your country? Would you? You bet you would, and so would every other red-blooded American youth. But why don’t you show your love for your country by buying bonds, planting a Victory Garden, collecting scrap, and giving up just a few of your expensive hobbies? Yes, some of you will do this, but we’ll need everybody’s full co-opera- tion if we’re going to beat those Axis Rats!” Shirley Weckstrom, ’46. sfc Compulsory Farm Labor One day last week, while I was scanning the daily newspaper, an article headed Compul- sory Farm Labor for High School Students Con- sidered” caught my eye. After glancing through it, I thought no more about it until just a few days ago, when I overheard the conversation of two young high school girls.

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Seven By Mary E. White, ’43 1 Not thirty-six can the answer be When seven are taken from ’43. Gone to fight for the freedoms four, Into the conflicts unceasing roar, Into the battle for you and me, Are seven members of ’43. 2 Each heard the clash of the battle din ; Each answered the call as it come to him. Services different, but objects the same, To the rolls was added each student’s name. In the air, on the land, and on the sea Are the young recruits of ’43. 3 No, not thirty-six can the answer be When seven are taken from ’43, But the war must be won, And the strength of our young Will bring us the VICTORY! At the time this poem was written there were seven boys of the Senior class in the service. Sails The sun rose lazily from the calm sea and looked down upon the tiny village snuggled in the cove. Gradually the village seemed to come to life as the sun climbed higher and higher into the sky. From a small white cottage there appeared a young girl about sixteen years old, in blue dun- garees. She stretched her arms and took a deep breath of the salty air and a feeling twinged through her body — a feeling that made her glad to be alive in such a beautiful world. Boots then walked down to the shore and gazed across the cove. A slight breeze arose and made ripples on the blue surface. Today was the big day for the young mariners of Dover and surrounding seacoast towns. Every year the Workshire Boat Club held a sailboat race amongst the boys and girls of Workshire County. The race started at the harbor of Dover. Salem Sands, twenty miles down the coast, was the destination. This was Boots’ first year of competing. Her brother, Bing, had won the cup last year, and now Boots was to be his assistant, to have the thrill of the cold, salty spray on her face, the wind through her hair, and to see the sails above her swelling in the breeze. She sauntered back into the house, where her brother was eating breakfast. You’d better hurry, Bing,” said Boots. We’ve only got four hours before the race begins and we’ve still a lot of work to do.” Yeh, and if the breeze doesn’t grow stronger, we’ll probably be stuck in the harbor for four more hours,” grunted Bing. At last he finished his oatmeal and they started off to the harbor. Already there was much activity on the small sailboats that dotted the bay. Boots and Bind boarded the Elizabeth,” christened that after their mother who had died the year Bing’s father bought the boat for him. Hi ya, Lucky!” called Bing to a fellow across the way. You’re going to need plenty of your name to beat the ' Elizabeth’.” Aw, you don’t know what competition is until you’ve been up against ' The Spray’,” yelled back Lucky. Boots and Bing set to work preparing the Elizabeth” and were ready just in time for the starting signal. The sails filled and they started out the har- bor. Boots could hardly believe that she was really here beside her brother at the wheel. Look, Bing, the sky is clouding up and the wind is so much stronger!” They had been so busy working that they had not noticed the sudden c hange of weather.