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Page 16 text:
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THE CITY OF CHARLESTON THE STUBBY blunt form of the tramp steamer, City of Charleston, groaned as she shouldered her way through the heavy seas, her rusty plates streaming spume at each turn of her screws. She was heavy with cargo and low in the water and couldn't have been making more than 10 knots. Her hull was painted a navy blue, but here and there great blobs of rust stood out in bold relief. Topside she was a grimy, slowly graying white, while her solitary stack was once a brilliant crimson. All in all she showed her age. I served aboard her as an officer. I had just finished college when the job was offered to me by the Skipper of the City of Charleston, who was an old friend of the family. As I had studied navigation, he took me on to sup- plement my knowledge with actual experienc1+I really didn't hold any posi- tion on boardg my tatus was similar to that of a midshipman on a man-o'- war. The Skipper owned the tramp and worked her free lance. He could get a cargo most anywhereg he had a sort of sixth sense when it came to this. Three bells struck in the half light of dawn and the ship was very still except for the reassuring throb of the engines and the splash 'of the rollers as we cut through them. I was still half asleep as I made my way up to the bridge where the mate stood drowsily rocking on his heels as the helmsman hummed faintly to himself. Our course was NE-by-E-we were bound for Los Angeles with a cargo of copra and crude rubber from the Dutch East Indies. The mate yawned and then nodded glumly as he went off Watch. I tore a page from the grimy calendar that hung next to the Chronometer- December 7, Sunday. I smiled at the prospect of a Sunday dinner which aboard ship is a real treat. I chatted with the helmsman-some quick mental calculations placed us about a day and a half's run off Oahu, main island of the Hawaiian group on which Honolulu is located. Taking my place at the open end of the bridge I waited for the Skipper. As I peered out towards the horizon I saw the smoke of another vessel. I kept watching her trying to make out what type she was. Slowly but surely she kept bearing down on us. She must be one of those fast luxury liners I thought. As she came still closer I took the binocu- lars from their cabinet in the Wheelhouse and began to look her over. By now she was plainly in sight, and I could make out her slim hull and gun turrets. She was in the cruiser class but not like any in the United States 14
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Page 15 text:
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There's a certain team in New York that I think is the best team on the face of the earth. They've got everything it takes to be a swell team. They've got the best players, a forceful manager and the most faithful fans. No, they're not the New York Giants or the New York Yankees, but this marvelous team is the Brooklyn Dodgers. Here is a little about the history of the name, Dodgers. It's a contraction of Trolley Dodgers. When they won the pen- nant in 1889 and '90 they became known as the Bridegrooms because the married men out-numbered the single fellows on the roster. They've also been called, Superbas, Robins, Infants and even Our Bums. Lois EIMER IT'S SPRING As if by a princess with mystic device Mother Earth's lovely wonders unfold From the pretty carved shimmering oft-changing ice And the dark, barren lands of the cold. It's Spring. The yellow of daffodils springs to our view, The grass, and the blue of the heather, And the oak trees displaying their foliage new Each trying to outdo the other. It's Spring. The farmers are busily planting their grain In hopes of a good harvest season. The robins are nesting, at home once again And of course we all know the good reason: It's Spring. The butterflies flit from flower to flower And the plump white clouds float above, So lazy and carefree from hour to hour And a young man's CPD thoughts turn to love. It's Spring. JOAN S. HARRIS 13
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Page 17 text:
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Navy. Her superstructure seemed piled on in a haphazard manner, and her two stacks were bent over like a shipis ventilator. The Hrst shell smacked into the blue about 250 yards off our stern. There was a terrific explosion and a huge geyser of water to mark the spot where she hit. The helmsman looked at me with an expression of numb sur- prise on his face. As for me I was speechless. By now the men on the whole ship were awake for I could hear shouting below decks. Then the second shell came over, only this time we were hit. There was a second rending crash as the radio shack and after deck were torn to bits. The third shell hit us for- ward. The ship was already going under-I grabbed a life belt and went over the side. From there on everything is black. It has been exactly three months and thirteen days since that heinous Sunday. A few days after it, I awoke in a sea of iiuify white like all hospital beds. I was in Honolulu where I had been taken after being the sole sur- vivor picked up by a United States naval vessel. I now know just as everybody else does what happened that Sunday. That cruiser was Japaneseg it was one of the unknown number that escorted an aircraft carrier. This aircraft carrier was the one which launched those deadly dive-bombers on that sneak attack on Pearl I-Iarbor. The reason my ship was blasted from under me was to prevent its warning the navy by radio. I believe that the aircraft carrier and its escort were later dealt with suc- cessfully by American bombers. O'r'ro HARTMANN WE TWO When I was very young, you see, There wasn't one but two of me. Now one was good, the other, well, You know I really needn't tell. The other liked to do the things, The ones that mother's anger brings, The ones you really wouldn't do Unless they turned their backs on you. I Wasn't bad, just couldn't be, 'Cause then I wasn't one but we, But gee it was a lot of fun When there were two instead of one. JANE RANDLE 15
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