Petersburg High School - Missile Yearbook (Petersburg, VA)

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at the Yorktown picnic grounds on the riverfront since we had all brought picnic lunches. Boy! Did they taste good! It seemed ages since we had eaten early that morning. When someone said he had eaten too much, one of the boys answered that he had a feeling he should have stopped eating ten sandwiches ago! Resting a short time at the Victory Monument, we had our pictures taken — for what trip is complete without a few candid shots? The real highlight of the day was the visit to York Hall, formerly called the Nel- son House. It was Cornwallis’ Head- quarters. We thoroughly enjoyed visit- ing this home and grounds with the sunk- en gardens. This place was especially in- teresting because of a cannon ball lodged in the wall, a secret staircase, and the lovely antiques. Happy, but tired, we once again piled into our cars and very unwillingly started our homeward journey. Silent Witnesses By Jean Ide Oh, town ! what tales your houses and roads could tell ! Each road at first would speak of folks so gay. Each house at first would sing o’ the friendly day. Later those roads felt hoofs with news to tell. Homes heard, too. The bomb had burst its shell! The roads were torn with wheels and blood and fray. House watched house be burned, fall down, decay. All was sunk in strife of war’s mad hell. Cornwallis was stopped at last by the fleet of France And by the American force that camped all ’round. The road and houses saw him break his lance Against the surging force that held him bound. . In short, the tale of house and road would be : “We saw, first hand, the things that made you free !” Page ten THE MISSILE

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banks and log rail fences on either side. At intervals there were arching bridges and parkways. It was especially beautiful at this time of autumn because of the trees with their multi-colored leaves. Again we were deep- ly impressed by the natural scenery around us. As we approached Yorktown, we passed some of the French trenches. The road led along the York river and by the wharf of the ferry which goes to Gloucester Point. Passing the Swan Tavern we immediately went to the Park Museum at the corner of Main and Church streets. Parking in front of the museum, we noticed a sign which stated that Yorktown was established in 1691, and that it was the scene of the last major military operation of the American Revolution in 1781. We realized that not a week before, October the nineteenth, was the one hundred and fifty-ninth anni- versary of the victory of Yorktown, and this fact made it all seem more real and interesting to us. This museum contains a large relief map of Yorktown and its vicinity, maps outlining the war, uniforms and costumes, and many other interesting articles. A little way from the main building stands a Naval Museum which is the restored half of a gun deck of a British frigate in which there are guns brought up from the bot- tom of the river. From this museum a guide directed us on a tour of the battle- fields. When we stopped at the Grand French Battery, it was hard for us stand- ing on the field on such a sunny, peaceful day to realize that once there was fighting there. A scenic but bumpy road, on the side of which were old-fashioned snake fences, led us by Surrender Field where the British gave up their arms and colors, by the encampment area of the Virginia militia and that of Lafayette’s troops, as well as by the headquarters of General Lincoln, who was second in command of our army. This beautiful road winding around a lake and through woods brought us to the Moore House where the Articles of Capitulation were drawn up. Here we spent much time go- ing through the house and grounds, and particularly admiring the view from the front yard overlooking the river. Somehow about this time, feeling rather faint, we knew that it was getting near the time to eat, and we headed back for Yorktown, stopping for a few minutes on the way at some British fortifications. We lunched THE MISSILE Page nine

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Just James By Mary Euth Carroll WAS a moonlit night in the year 1781. On the pier at Yorktown the waves of the river were lapping against the rough planks of the wharf. Silhouetted against the full moon an English man o’ war floated on the deep. On shore the spaced steps and clicking heels of the sentinel beat a rhythmic tattoo. Floating ’gator-like a “something” silently glided under the pier. At first it seemed it must be driftwood, so silent and indiffer- ent was it. However, after an almost interminable silence the figure slowly began to take an indefinite shape as it rose stealthily from the shal- low water. Only a slight trickling of water betrayed its presence as it stole stealthily toward the ladder to the plank. Until now no light had shone on the mysterious figure, but as his head appeared above the plank the moon threw its rays on his face — but only for a minute, for the face disap- peared with a start. The reason was guessed, for at that moment the click- ing of the heels of the sentinel were heard. As soon as the sentinel turn- ed, the figure crouched and then sprang toward the wharf buildings. Silent- ly he ran. He left only wet tracks made obscure in the shadows to denote that the place had been visited. As the sentinel turned, there was a slight movement by a large discarded box — nothing more. Once again the shiv- ering figure heard the thump, thump of the soldier’s boots. Once again the figure dashed into the darkness as the guard turned. A few miles thence the next morning the sun peeped through a crack in a barn to warm the ruddy cheek of a young boy. As the warm rays spread over his face, he turned slightly to place his hands above his eyes. Then suddenly he sat upright and be- came quite tense. Footsteps ap- proached his refuge, and as they approached he dared not look up. Within a few moments a small pair of feet, neatly shod, stood before him. Slowly he raised his eyes to see who might be the THE MISSILE Page eleven