Selwyn House School - Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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SFLWYN HOUSE SCHOOL MAGAZINE the eerie outline of the darkened buildings. This man is Dmitri Shostakovich. Soon the faint murmur of enemy airplanes is heard and the anti-aircraft bursts puff in the cloudless sky. As the flashing searchlights blaze out into tiny pinpoints on a menaced world, spine- chilling inspiration bursts in him like a bomb. IYisps of his imagination materialize into thoughts of a marvellous melody. The sirens sound their relieving wail again and he turns silently away, keeping his inspiration locked in his memory until he can forever express its victorious tune intact. This was the birth ofShostakovich's Seventh Symphony lusually known as the Leningrad Symphonyl, amidst the slow destruction of his beautiful city. Actually this war has not only inspired some of the free people of the world to com- pose music, to paint war scenes and to write poetryg it has reached many men's freedom- loving spirit and inspired them to protect their homes, their wives, and children from enslavement by the merciless barbarians of the Reich. .-X. T., Form 6. TI-IE FIGHTING AI.I.I IES I-IILIQ I sat in a comfortable arm-chair after a hearty Sunday dinner, I thought of the men and women all over the world, fighting for freedom. I thought of what might be happening to them while I sat here and rested... .an American soldier, a man of twenty-two with a wife and child living in Dallas, Texas, sees a wounded Jap, holding his head, stumble through the underbrush. He rushes to him and helps him walk. He starts back for a Red Cross tent. On his way to the tent with the wounded Jap, a Jap sniper, camouflaged in a tree, shoots at him and the bullet goes through his stomach. The Jap sniper knew that the American was helping one of his fellow japs, but this did I1Ot bother him as long as he killed an .-Xmerican. Much further north a Chinese boy of eighteen with two of his mates is in a ma- chine-gun nest. Twenty .Iaps rush forward through a thicket and the Chinese begin shoot- ing. A .lap raises his hand to throw a grenade at the three men. I-Ie is riddled through in ten places by .-Xmerican-made bullets. I-Ie falls down and blood gushes through his dirty tunic. .-Xnother enemy soldier has been killed. The three Chinese continue firing till they are all blown up by a hand grenade. Their time had come. The Chinese, bravely Fighting the Japanese for about five years, are fighting for peace for all the world. They are one of the Allies! To the west, another .-Xllied country, Russia, is pushing back the German invaders. Guerilla fighters, besides the regular army, are destroying Nazis. .-X small band of Rus- sian civilians is crawling through the heavy snow, aiming to blow up an important bridge. If any of these citizens were ever to be caught, torture and death would surely be their reward. Knowing this they still go on heedlessly. The freedom of their country and the freedom of all conquered countries is their only goal. They reach the bridge inside German lines. They plant the T. N. T. and blow the bridge to smithereens. The Germans will take a long time to build another one. Ifurther west, a Canadian flier, brought down over Germany and now in a con- centration camp, receives food from the Red Cross. How pleased he is, but inside he has a yearning desire to Hy again. Illl

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FOR THE SCHOOL YEAR 1942 -1943 WAR INSPIRATION HE sun rays clenched his body like a vice. He wiped his sweat-soaked face, and wrote on. He mumbled to himself: To-day they attacked our supply ships off- shore and sank two of them, but not one Japanese plane of the forty attackers re- turned to tell of the glorious victory... This man was Richard Tregaskis, American Correspondent stationed at Guadalcanal since the landing by the marines. Many actual adventures of American lighters and his own strange life on the island inspired him to write Guadalcanal Diary, and it became one of the best sellers within a short time, because it was a true narration of the landing and subsequent operations. The war has even entered the art galleries. As I walked up the marble steps into a large hall, I felt the impact of modern art. I walked into an adjoining room and per- ceived, to my immediate delight, many beautiful modern paintings, done by people from all the Americas. I left this interesting showing fifteen minutes later and went to the XYar Posters Exhibition. The room was spotted with bright colours well blended with the sun rays streaming through the large glass windows. Strangely enough, this was the only room in the building that had many large windows in it. The war had certainly inspired the minds of many artists to paint these war posters. The next room offered a light variety, but war was still the predominant theme. There were paintings of flyers, soldiers and sailors, of ships, burning cities and many other wartime occurrences. As I left I had the impression that this was a new branch of modern art caused by the suffering and sorrow of a war ravaged world. There are no trenches dug in the park, not yet. There are no soldiers falling out of the sky, It's a line clear day in the park ..... he mumbles to himself. He believes that this is a good theme, and so writes on. When they woke they saw the planes with the black crosses... The truth of these words can be easily proved by the miserable citizens of XYarsaw and Rotterdam. The people of Europe had tried not to think that war was overrunning their peaceful lands. How mis- taken they were in doing this they soon found out. Stephen Vincent Benet, one of :Kmerica's foremost poets, was soon inspired to write on war and destruction after the Second YVorld YVar had broken out. He is begin! ning a poem, which he later entitled Nightmare At Noon. What a terrific A' Night- mare At Noon must have occurred in the unprotected city of Rotterdam! He knows that the reality of war has only struck a small percentage of Americans- people that have had their sons and brothers and husbands killed in some far off land. Like many other great poets of America, the realism of total warfare and the im- portance of being free has at last struck him and pierced his hard outer shell of supposed self-protection and reached his real inner feelings that have fallen into the background in the PHSK few years before the war. The bemoaning banshee wails strike forth across the lonely stillness of Leningrad- Atop The Conservatory of Music Building stands a fire-watcher erect and alert observing llll

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FOR THE SCHOOL YEAR 1942-1943 All through Europe in France, Belgium, Holland, Czechoslovakia and in all the conquered countries, starved and broken-down civilians long for revenge. In Jugoslavia, the Chetniks, under Gen. Mihailovitch, are fighting back in the mountains. They kill, sabotage and light the Germans in every way possible to gain peace eventually. In Greece, citizens cannot light back through lack of food. Horrible pictures come through showing the starved people spread in the streets and ditches. Many heroic stories are brought back from I.ibya. Old guardsnien, veterans of the last war, now are working as road repairers. .-X motor-cycle messenger speeding in, stops and tells them that German parachutists are coming down behind the lines. They take their rifles and one Bren gun. :X strategic hill has to be defended. They reach the hill and prepare themselves. They stave off the crack German parachutists for halt' an hour and then, when the German attack is repulsed by the Anzac and British forces, they are relieved by the Grenadier Guards. They have good reason to be proud. In Norway, British ships come, feeling their way through a thick fog into an im- portant harbour. The commandos are striking again Y They reach the beaches and start for the town, burning and devastating German armaments on their way. They capture German officers and Norwegian Quislings. Their mission concluded, they return to their ships, bringing back valuable information for the Allies. In France, the underground, a secret getaway for pilots forced down in France, is taking great risks. If any airman were ever to be caught in one of the Frenchman's houses it would be sure death for him and perhaps his family. In the .-Xtlantic battle zone, a merchant ship, bringing food to Britain is suddenly hit by a torpedo from a Nazi If-boat. It goes down to the bottom in three minutes and all hands are lost. So as I sat in my arm-chair, free from dangers and without any worries, I thought of the so many ways in which we, on the home front, could help. We could lend for victory, contribute to the Red Cross, Aid to Russia Fund, Aid to China Fund and help in numerous other ways to relieve the suffering of the stricken people of Europe and also to lend as- sistance to our .-Xllied soldiers all over the world. J. T., Form 6. THE STORY OF BOB HERE was once a Newfoundland dog and his name was Bob. He lived in a little house in one of the New England States. ' One day in june Bob was swimming in the sea. He suddenly heard a motor. It was a German submarine and he began to bark at it. The coastguards heard him from their boat and looked to see what the matter was. The submarine began to fire at them and hit a Hag but the coastguards hred back at the submarine and also sent for help. They called Bob and tied a message on him. He swam back to the coast and there they took the message from him. Help was sent and Bob had saved the coastguard's boat from the enemy I Yvhen he got home he was given much petting from his family. P. I. D.. Form .-X. l23l