St Bernards School - Crusader Yearbook (Gladstone, NJ)

 - Class of 1952

Page 26 of 72

 

St Bernards School - Crusader Yearbook (Gladstone, NJ) online collection, 1952 Edition, Page 26 of 72
Page 26 of 72



St Bernards School - Crusader Yearbook (Gladstone, NJ) online collection, 1952 Edition, Page 25
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St Bernards School - Crusader Yearbook (Gladstone, NJ) online collection, 1952 Edition, Page 27
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Page 26 text:

Peter Randall, another big round man who had been sitting by a small square desk gazing out over New York City, turned ashen at the news and trembled, Oh no! Booth, it can't be true! Five of my best gold mines are located in the Sandy Desert, and if they are seized, l'll be a ruined man! Booth Taggart, who had been standing at the teletype receiver, was himself trembling with anxiety. Flinging himself wildly into two armchairs in opposite corners of the room, he gasped, And my precious automobile industry will collapse! Those cles- ert nomads have been the best customers for my no-clutch convertibles. I can't afford to lose their business! I must do something to put this terrible invasion to an end! - AHA! I've got it! l'll sponsor a show for our soldiers between battles. It'll boost their morale and our chances of winning. l'll get hold of three of my old classmates: Colton, Telesco, and Jacquemot, and l'll have them perform! l'll .... Now wait a minute, don't leave me out in the gold, drawled Randall, as he brushed several bothersome diamonds off his desk. Let me get in on this production, too! Together the two wealthiest members of the Class of 1952 began their plans on a show for the U. S. Army in the sands of the Sandy Desert of Saudi Arabia. Two days later the desert battle was in full progress. Men on both sides were dropping like flies, but the U. S. 2nd Regiment was slowly driving the tenacious Arabs and Ethiopians back. It was a colorful sight - camels and mules running amuck, turban- clad Arabs jumping up and down in gaudy striped bathrobes, and the cannon and the angry generals belching orange flames of fire. In one area, however, the U. S. forces' attack had bogged down in the loose sand. An expert was called in from the States to supervise the building of a firm road around the enemy. He was none other than civil engineer Larry Weymouth. Under his direction, the roadbed was quickly and accurately laid. But despite his best efforts, he could not stem the tide of wind-blown sand that continually swept in across the founda- tion, and thus the pavement could not be laid. So, another expert arrived from America to clear up the situation. This time the man of the hour was David Walkden, electronics engineer. With a new electronic device of his own design, he melted the sand around the roadbed into glass, and the concrete paving was then laid, and the road finished. Unfortunately, the regiment was forced to give up the idea when chips of glass broken off by enemy bullets deflated its ego and the tires on half of the army trucks. Also on hand endangering his life for his country was chemical engineer, Albert Hart. He was seeing in action for the first time some of his own anti-attack gas. The gas was fired in shells at the aghast Arabs and Ethiopians, and had a peculiar effect on them. lt caused them to laugh to such a hilarious degree that they were rendered for the most part harmless. Al himself inhaled a considerable amount of the humerous fumes, which had been leaking from an imperfect shell. As he was carried out in a straight-iacket, he remarked between roars of laughter he who laughs last laughs best. The 2nd Regiment that clay was using a new specially prepared explosive in its shells. lt's made from the metal sodium, and can be ignited with ordinary water, re- marked its inventor, metal powders expert, Joel Hall, as he blew a wad of chewing gum from his mouth while standing nearby a magazine. Unfortunately the moist gum fell on some of the specially prepared explosive and the surroundings vaporized amidst a trem- endous explosion. Hall, however, miracuously escaped damage. But then again, miracles are not uncommon in this day and age. With the aid of the new explosive, the laughing gas, and the naval support of Admiral Simpson, the regiment finally routed the flabergasted Arabs and Ethiopians and put them to flight. When the last of the vanquished desert invaders had left the scene lPlease turn to page fifty-four? l22fl

Page 25 text:

Sea, writing diligently on a small pad. Suddenly he heard a terrific explosion, and he looked out on the water to see a PT boat, hit by an enemy shell, go up in a ball of smoke, flames, and tin cans. He again wrote fervently on his pad and had iust finished when he noticed a soldier dragging himself on nearly all fours through the sand a short distance away. The soldier was Lieutenant Southward, exhausted from his hot trek across the desert after losing his ride with Ripley. He gestured feebly to the man on the hill and gasped, Water - water! The man pointed casually to the Arabian Sea and walked away. But suddenly he turned back, took out pencil and pad, and asked with a feverish gleam in his eye, Soldier, what's your name? This will make a fine story for my news- papers. lt's got human interest! The Lieutenant gasped in two choking voices, Southward . . . Kit Southward. Gi'me some water so I can head northward! Kit Southward! exclaimed the man. Why I used to go to school with you. I'm Jeff Stansbury, newspaper owner. This story will make the front pages! Just then a green pickup truck roared up the hill in second amid a hail of machine gun bullets and came to a stop near tne two men. Stansbury read the lettering on the door: HAL GREEN - REGIMENT VcTERINARlANA', and he and the driver greeted each other as two more members of the Class of 1962 were met in mutual recognition. After relieving the gasping Southward with a drink of radiator water, the two rode off in the direction of the regiment camp. ln the truck Hal disclosed that it was his responsibility to keep all the army mules in working condition. l'm on my way now, he said, to doctor up a batch of the animals which incur- red the Vitamin B Jitters while being shod by the regiment farrier, and I bet you can't guess who he is , he ended, as the truck pulled into a stable yard which was pretty well scattered around the vicinity by a direct hit from an enemy blockbuster. Not Bob Speck? said Stansbury, with pad and pencil in hand. None other, asserted Hal, and there he is now! A few feet beyond the truck a wiry man in a dirty apron was busy shoeing the hind legs of a droopy army mule. He stopped his task to scrutinize the two in the truck, and upon recognizing them, he flung his hammer to the winds and ran over to greet his former classmates. Jeff and Hal! he exclaimed in great animation. What are you two doing here? The reporter and the veterinarian answered the query, and then asked the far- rier how things were coming in his choice of trade. Oh fine, fine , responded Bob. See this device of mine here? He gestured to- ward a long plank supported three feet off the ground behind the mules by stakes driven into the ground. l just push the mules' legs through the holes in this plank. Then I can nail on the shoes without having to hold up the mule's leg at the same time, but there's only one hitch to it. What's that? asked Hal, who was busily medicating some sick mules with eighteenth-century corn liquor. Well, replied Bob, It's all very easy to stick the mule's leg through the holes in the board and nail on the shoes, but with these oversized army horseshoes on 'em, I can never get the legs out without a hard struggle. The mules' legs usually break in the process, and the critters have to be shot, but confidentially, it saves work for me. Just then a shell exploded nearby, effecting a rather hurried departure on the part of the three men. Stansbury pulled himself together and located the nearest teletype machine, on which he sent his story to a million offices in the U.S.A. and in one of them .... Smoking pistons! exclaimed the big round man as he stared at the print on the long line of teletype passing through his fingers. Look at this, Pete! The Arabs and the Ethiopians are massing in the Sandy Desert for another all-out offensive against our forces! L21l



Page 27 text:

East ill emit Eleztament We, the Class of 1952, of St. Bernard's School, being in sound mind, and in view of circumstances beyond our control, do hereby publish this our last will and testament, hereby revoking all former wills by us heretofore made - We give and bequeath as follows: T. To our Alma Mater we leave our sincerest gratitude for all the efforts made in our behalf. 2. To the Rector, the Faculty and the Staff we extend our deepest appreciation for all their patience and perserverance in our behalf. 3. To the Underclassmen, we bequeath our example. May they profit by our mistakes and continue our good work. OUR PERSONAL BEOUESTS I, Donne Colton, leave my Church Key to Stuart Lundie. I, Hal Green, leave my guitar to Michael O'Malley. I, Joel Hall, leave my Ford V-8 to Gustavo Vivas. I, Albert Hart, leave my pitching ability to Bill Whitney. I, Keith Hyer, leave the dish machine to Robin Smith. I, John Jacquemot, leave, my canteen key to Peter Nicholls. I, Peter Randall, leave a winning New York Rangers to Elliot Case. I, Donald Ripley, leave the Oliver 70 to Dick Brain. I, Edwin Simpson, leave my way with the women to John Schweikert I, Kit Southward, leave my experience in photography to John Van Cleve. I, Robert Speck, leave title of Mr. Touchdown to Dick Laskey. I, Jeffrey Stansbury, leave my reasoning ability to Murray. I, Booth Taggart, leave my drinking ability to Phil Otis. I, David Walkden, leave my theological temperment to Dan Decher. I, David Ward, leave my spelling ability to David Hahn. I, Laurence Weymouth, leave my library racket to Dave Keller. In the Looking Glass Donne Colton .,... ......,......... P erry Como Booth Taggart ,,,..,.,,,,, J, Pierponf Mo,-gan Hal Green .............................. Tex Ritter David Walkden ......,,,,.,,,,, Billy Gral-ram Joel Hall ..... ....... C harles Martin Hall David Ward ,.,......,,, Frank Lloyd Wrighf Albert Hart .............................. Bill Stern Laurence Weymouth ,,,, George Goefl-,als Keith Hyer ,,,,,,,,,,,. Captain Kurt Carlson John Jacquemot . Peter Randall ...,. Donald Ripley .,.. Mr. America John Jacob Astor Walter P. Chrysler Edwin Simpson .............. Admiral Halsey Edgar Southward ........ Robert Speck ........ .. Jeffrey Stansbury General McArthur Eddie Arcaro Horace Greeley I 23 Class Colors: Blue and Gray Class Flower: Mountain Laurel Class Motto Non scholae sed vitae discimus. We do not learn for school, but for Iife.

Suggestions in the St Bernards School - Crusader Yearbook (Gladstone, NJ) collection:

St Bernards School - Crusader Yearbook (Gladstone, NJ) online collection, 1950 Edition, Page 1

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St Bernards School - Crusader Yearbook (Gladstone, NJ) online collection, 1951 Edition, Page 1

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St Bernards School - Crusader Yearbook (Gladstone, NJ) online collection, 1952 Edition, Page 52

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