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

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14 THE SCREECH OWL Walking down the passage way, he e ntered an- other room. When he found himself in the magazine room where were stored the bombs and ammu- nition, he noticed a box of dynamite with long five-minute fuses in it. He placed it between the pile of bombs and after a hasty search found a match and lit the fuse. Then he scurried out of the room out onto the deck where his plane was waiting with its motor idling. They had been using it for scouting American held terri- tory so that the Americans would not suspect anything. Bob climbed into the plane, then two attendants saluted and pulled the chalks from under the wheels. As Bob eased the throttle the plane moved forward, gaining speed every foot. He pulled back on the stick and the fighter shot forward into space, head- ing for home. Looking below, he saw a huge flame leap skyward as the carrier exploded into pieces. Laughing with joy, he called headquarters on his radio and warned them of the coming dan- ger. When Bob landed at his base he gave the whole story to his C. O. What pleased him most was not the promise of a Navy Cross but the morning headlines Jap Task Force Sunk.” He knew then that the Jap captain had been wrong. It was Tokyo or Bust.” Anthony Mariani, ’45 ❖ ❖ ❖ Alone Two soft brown eyes, wistful, pleading, are asking over and over the question, why there is no hand to pat him this morning — no familiar voice to call him to a little rough and tumble game. The friendly armchair is now empty, a vacant place greets him. For him the sun has fled, the future holds no hopes or joys, the very sky has fallen. Little he knows or cares that the whole world bows its head in sorrow and weeps, for the world has tumbled down about this tiny crea- ture, as, sad and lonely, little Fala mourns his master. Ethel Salonen, ’ 46 . Eighteen Sandy Merrill jumped over the hedge and ran across the lawn, not noticing the flower he had crushed beneath his foot. He leaped over the porch railing, then, letting the screen door slam, was in the house. Sandy, who was all of eighteen, had just graduated from high school and was working in a downtown store. He was tall, yet it seems only the day before he had been a little boy. A trace of boyishness remained in his sparkling eyes. Sandy was always happy and full of pep. Today when he came home Mom felt he was almost too happy, as though something he had waited for had happened. She tried to get it out of him at supper, but apparently he didn’t want anyone to know. He had eaten a good meal, had asked for a second helping, so she ceased to worry and didn’t mention a word to Dad about it. But something did happen, something he had been waiting for. That night Sandy went to Char’s house. Char was the girl whcf had lived down the street. It was Char who had been his constant companion ever since they were knee high. It was Sandy who gave her her nickname, her real name being Charlotte. As he walked he recalled the fun they had had and the places they had been together. He chuckled when he recalled the time she cried when he broke her best doll, and then the time he caught the measles from her. Yes, she was the one he would tell first. As he reached her house, he almost ran. Char was tidying the porch and arranging a bouquet of garden flowers. She looked sweet in a crisp white pinafore, her hair loose over her shoulders and falling in natural curls. Hi, Char,” Sandy panted, I’ve got a sur- prise for you.” A surprise?” she asked looking up, her bright eyes filled with wonder and excitement. There was a moment of silence. Sandy Merrill, what are you hiding from me?” she demanded. Her voice was eager now. Not Sandy Merrill, Char, Aviation Cadet Charles Merrill,” Sandy corrected.

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THE SCREECH OWL 13 until it touched his stomach and his plane res- ponded in a looping dive. He pulled out of his dive when he was certain he had shaken the Zeros off his tail, and then climbed for alti- tude. He got on the tail of one Zero, and when his sights were on it, he squeezed the trigger gently. Smoke came out of the rear of the plane and suddenly it exploded. Every- where in the sky around him planes were div- ing, smoking and falling towards the ground. Bob searched the sky, looking for another victim. Off in the distance he saw a Jap plane heading for its base, and he decided to chase it. A Zero is fast but a P. 51 is much swifter. Suddenly a thought entered his mind which held him confused for a moment. Where had the Zeros come from? Their nearest base was at least a thousand miles away. There must be a carrier or a small island near here which the Japs were using as a base. Bob decided to trail the Zero. Fifteen minutes later he saw the plane dive toward the sea. Following closely, he saw spread out over the area Japanese ships of every des- cription, carriers, destroyers, battleships, and troopships — A Jap task-force heading toward the Marianas. The Japs began shooting at him with their deck guns. He dived at one aircraft carrier and released two rockets, which smashed the flight deck to pieces, shattering two planes on the deck. Diving through the flak again, he released his two bombs. Both of them dropped into the open plane elevator and split the car- rier in half. The ship sank slowly and the panicky crew jumped over the side like the rats they were. His heart leaping with joy, he headed for home. Suddenly his motor sputtered and coughed and he began to lose altitude. He was out of gas, darn the luck. He had been so busy and preoccupied with the Japs that he had forgot- ten about everything else. Bob skillfully man- euvered his ship into a pancake landing on the rolling sea. Before he had time to get his life raft, the Jap carrier came alongside and hoisted him to the deck. A derrick pulled his plane aboard and then two heavily-armed sailors grabbed Bob roughly by the shoulders and pushed him toward the Captain’s office. The commander, a slant-eyed, fat little Jap with large buck teeth smiled evilly at Bob and dismissed the guards after they had disarmed him. So you are the brash young American who sank our sister carrier. You will pay for that and so will all you Americans. We are going now to attack the Marianas and recapture it. We will not retreat anymore; we shall advance.” He laughed loudly and rang for the guards, who seized Bob and took him below to a cell. Bob was furious and helpless. He paced the small, damp cell trying to figure out a method of escape. All night long Bob racked his brain for some method which would help him to warn the base. That night the guard brought Bob a bowl of rice and a pitcher of water. Bob watched him like a cat, waiting for a careless move, but the Jap never took his eyes from Bob or his hand away from the butt of his Luger. After the guard left, Bob decided on a plan that was both desperate and dangerous. The next night he took off his heavy woolen flight jacket and rolled it up in his sleeping blanket. Then he put it on his bunk, took off his heavy boots, and hid behind the door. After what seemed like hours, he heard the footsteps of the guard coming down the hall, then the rattling of the key turning in the lock. He waited tensely as the guard opened the door and peered in cautiously before entering. He placed the food on the floor near the bunk, but as he did so Bob crept up behind him and slammed him on the head with his boot. Quick- ly picking up the guard’s Luger, he crept up the stairs. Ducking in the shadow as two sai- lors drifted by on night watch, he slid into a cabin at the end of the passage way. As he saw a Jap officer with his back to the door, put- ting on a flying suit, he crept up behind him and hit him over the head with the barrel of his gun; then he climbed into the flying suit himself and put the goggles over his eyes.

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THE SCREECH OWL 15 Oh, Sandy!” Her voice shook now. Well, that is, nearly. I passed everything. My papers came today. I report in ten days. Isn’t it grand, Char? I’ll be doing what I’ve always wanted to. I’ll learn to fly a plane!” He tried to squeeze it all in one breath. Char wasn’t looking at him now. Her eyes smarted as she spoke. I’m glad you got what you wanted. It’s great.” I wish you’d help me tell Mom and Dad,” he said earnestly. Of course I will, if you want me to, Sandy,” said Char. Together, holding hands, they went. They’d miss each other, the skating parties, the old swimming hole, and their picnics together. As they walked hand in hand, they weren’t just Char and Sandy, but the average boy and girl of their age, all faced with the same problem of waiting and dreaming of tomorrow. Veronica Nowick, ’48. ❖ The Skunk That Didn ' t Smell Samantha T. Skunk was a — skunk. She was a beautiful glossy black except where a broad, snow-white stripe ran from the tip of her nose down her back to the tip of her tail. Her hair was long and silky, her eyes shiny. But in spite of all this, Samantha was bitter against the world. Samantha didn’t smell! Ah! You don’t know what bitterness this lack of smell caused Samantha. Samantha was almost entirely friendless except for her mother. Being so lonely, she spent all her time trying to learn how to smell. Samantha had bottles of perfume that made her smell, but not the right way. Samantha ate a lot of onion and garlic that made her smell, but still not the right way. At last she gave up, said goodbye to her mother, and left home. For years Samantha lived by herself, experimenting, but she did not succeed. One day she was sitting alone in the woods. At last she became tired, so she got up and walked away. While Samantha was walking along, a strange odor was wafted on the breeze. She sniffed again, and at last the thought came to her — she smelled ! ! Joyously she retraced her steps till she came to the spot where she had been sitting. There, wilted and odoriferous, was a crushed skunk cabbage. Later, after many experiments, Samantha succeeded in concocting a liquid from the skunk cabbage which made her smell. Then happily she set off for home with a gallon jar of her private joy juice.” When she reached home she shouted to her mother, At last I smell!” and lived happiiy ever after. Barbara Parker, ’47. ❖ ❖ Fugitive He didn’t have to stand for that kind of treat- ment, and with a determined tug at his trousers, Melvin set forth doing something about it. By now he was a good two blocks away from home, and each step forward gave him a new sense of freedom, overshadowed, however, by a slight feeling of loneliness. He tugged at his trousers again. Dad certainly packed a lot of force into that punishment. He’d be sorry, and Mom would be, too; they’d see, he’d show them they couldn’t treat him like that! Twenty minutes passed and Melvin seemed in no haste. In fact he was only a block further, so deep were his thoughts. In the distance he heard the 4:30 train whistle, and realized with dismay that he was getting hungry. Then the flood of memories quickly overpowered those hunger pains. He thought with satisfaction, Won’t they be sorry when they see me starved to death.” He was near Billy’s house now. Billy had been his playmate when they had lived at West 42nd Street. Suddenly his train of thought was interrupted by the sound of sobbing. There was no one on the street; the sound floated out from the stairs leading down into the garbage alley. He stopped, put his hands in his pockets, and peered into the dimly lit alley. A little curious,