Wakefield High School - Oracle Yearbook (Wakefield, MA)

Page 17 text:

through the camp life in America, across the Atlantic and on the battlefields of France, I never forgot that I represented the 1919 Class of Wakefield High on the Field of Honor. — James G. Brown, ' 19. THE DOUGHBOY Paul Rogers had gone. She had sent him away saying she would never marry a slacker. These words wounded him deep- ly and he had returned to his little room in the Charles Street boarding house. The first thing that greeted him upon his entrance to the room was her picture, with that sweet but strong face, that he had always before delighted to see, but now it hurt him. He walked to the table and picked up the picture, sat down, and gazed hungrily into the beautiful face before him. Then he spoke quickly, almost savagely, Kate, oh Kate, I know I ' m a slacker, but I can ' t help it, — I can ' t. You told me it was a sure sign I didn ' t love you, if I were too much of a coward to fight for you. I never thought of it that way. I will go! He finished with a sob that shook his strong body, re- placed the picture and went out into the street. After eight long months of unselfish ser- vice with the Red Cross in France, Kate re- turned to her home. She had heard noth- ing from him, whom she had sent away, until she received a small parcel, post- marked France and addressed in a hand that she did not recognize. She wanted it to be a message from him. In the little box was a Croix de Guerre, resting on a scrap of paper on which she read, Paul Rogers died today from wounds received while gallantly rescuing a com- rade. He said he thought you would like the cross he won fighting for you. — D. B. W. ' 19. A STUDY IN THE CLASSICS Variety is the spice of life; so goes the old saying, and in no case does this prove more true than in our high school and the inhabitants thereof. The latter consist of several elements and may be divided into four classes; Seniors, Juniors, Sophomores, and Freshmen. 1922 The Freshman complies well with his name. He is generally fresh and pert of nature and most neglectful as to personal appearance. His hair will look as though it never felt the friendly caress of a brush, and his trousers have vowed vengeance on any semblance of an iron. A collar is a necessary evil, which he considers most un- necessary. He glories in camouflage to the extent of bringing home a dozen or so books which never receive his slightest perusal. His desk is a thing of beauty and a joy for never, plentifully littered with pencil shav- ings, her notes, bits of erasers and a box or so of elastics. Ambition is a thing unknown to him and school merely be- comes a new variety of vacation, vastly in- teresting, and a pretty good way to kill time. She, on the contrary, has entered the lit- erary world and higher social circles and consequently is no longer a child. Her con- versation is mixed with Latin phrases and she speaks before the mystified family of a2b(xplusy). She flaunts prodigious bows of ribbon on her curling tresses and her passion is dancing school. She carries on her correspondence by means of codes to the disgust of the Freshman boy, who, by the way, is disgusted merely because his curiosity as to said notes is not satisfied. Her main pastime is whispering which is not alone confined to the fairer sex. In short, she is really, fairly grown up and has left her childhood days forever in the past to the tune of Mica, mica, parva Stella. I 1921 A year goes by and now they are Sopho- mores. He suddenly discovers that Tom Brown, Senior President, wears scarlet socks, and immediately dons a pair. Then come checked suits, high stiff collars and wondrously brilliant stickpins. His trous- ers now frequently bear the imprint of an overhot iron and his hair lies plastered down with vaseline. Suddenly he becomes aware of the fact that a certain She sits just in front of him. He wonders vaguely what has hap- pened to the freckles that peppered her nose when they were kids and in study hours he ponders upon the whiteness of the back of neck. Somehow, she seems to have just come into existence and has learned to glance over her shoulder in a manner which causes his collar to feel tight to the choking point and his head feel sort of queer. He suddenly dis- 11

Page 16 text:

entang ' kments about seventy yards in front of our trench. A little after dusk we junnped up over our parapet, and what a wonderful sensation came over me, as I started on my first sti ' oll in No Man ' s Land ! It soon wore away, however and finding the wire 0. K. we returned after being out three quarters of an hour. We remained in this sector until April 1, 1918, when we once more boarded our Pullman and a two-day rid e found us in the Toul Sector. Here again our mission was to hold the line and although the Boche tried re- peatedly to smash holes in it, we downed them for a loss each time. A great deal of patrolling was done in this sector and together with air raids, local raids, gas at- tacks, food difficulties, trench fever, cooties, and mud, we found each and every day full of excitement. It was for work in this sec- tor that our regimental colors were deco- rated by the French Government, and we were rushed to the Marne to take part in the large counter-attacks at Chateau Thier- ry. My company, relieved the 6th Marines in Bellau Woods on the night of July 4th, 1918 and we spent our hardest eight day hitch here. Just outside the wood our first dead were buried, twelve boys from my company, and some one hundred and fif- ty more were wounded. On July 26, 1918, I received orders to pro- ceed to Army Candidates School from where, two months later, I graduated a 2nd Lieutenant in the United States Army. I was ordered to join Company A , 126th Infantry, then at Verdun, and reported two days later. On the evening of October 8, 1918, orders came up for attack by my regi- ment at eight o ' clock next morning. My Last Day On The Battlefield We launched the attack promptly at eight o ' clock and fought the Germans back un- til twelve, capturing hundreds of prisoners. They had fallen back on a well fortified po- sition and it looked as though they were intent to hold there. About two hundred and fifty yards separated the lines and my company was laying low in shell holes, awaiting order from Lieut. Millen, the com- pany commander. We were being shelled severely and Lieut. Millen was seriously wounded. He was carried back to the dress- ing station, leaving me in command of the company. Conferring with the Lieut, in command of the company on my right, we made plans for a frontal attack. At four o ' clock I shot up two green flares, our signal for ad- vance and started over with the first wave. We were forced through a heavy barrage besides facing the terrific machine gun fire from their line. The boys were cool and because of their faith in one another, never wavered. I got within fifty yards of two machine gun nests and could see four Boche with each gun. Six of us rushed the guns, our one thought to get the Hun before he got any more of our boys who were now dropping all along the line. I felt a burning streak in my left hand and knew I was wounded, but things were too excit- ing to bother about that then. I started my sprint on the last lap but the start was all I ever got for hardly had I taken five strides when I was wounded quite severely through the left hip, leaving me lying on the field. Four of the six boys captured both guns and speedily avenged the death of the fifth lad and the wounds of the sixth (myself). My company took the line and captured a great many prisoners. By this time I bandaged myself up and aided by two slightly wounded lads start- ed on a five-mile hike back to the dress- ing station. It was just thirty-eight hours from the time I was wounded until I was operated on and the bullet, which had be- come lodged in my back, removed. I was forced to remain in bed, but after a month I started walking about with the aid of a cane. On Friday, December 13, 1918, I left the hospital, although still convalescing, on the first stage of my journey back to the Best Town. Christmas Day I boarded boat at Bordeaux and twelve days later set foot on American soil once more at Newport News, Virginia after being away fifteen months. From here I proceeded to Camp Devens, Mass., from where I was discharged January 18, 1919. While I was convalescing my mind so of- ten turned to my High School days and my class, and how I wished I might get back with them! Considering the matter, and chancing to my usual luck I figured if I could get back to the United States in Jan- uary, 1919, I might complete my course with them, and was fortunate enough to return at that time. Through the kind- ness of the School Committee I am once more a 1919 student; and thanks to the High School faculty for their M-illingness to aid me in my studies, I shall graduate with my class in June. From the time I answered the Call, 10

Page 18 text:

covers that this is quite a world, after all, and that he is bound to be a large illumin- ating light in said world. And while he ponders thus, he finds that he has been looking at a bit of pink ear that peeped out between her curls. A year has done much to improve (?) her. She talks of her class fraternities, girls ' clubs, etc. and the prodigious bow is less conspicuous. In the presence of Sen- iors she moves with quiet dignity (?) — among her classmates she giggles eternally. She wraps herself in a certain self-possess- ion and mystery that almost drives hi7n to distraction. With the other girls she dis- cusses secret affairs, in groups of twos and threes, who suddenly hush up, when he puts in an appearance. She is so absorbed in grov ing up that she gives little attention to the world or upper classmen. 1920 The Juniors consist of that portion of the school v hich is almost ' there, (there, being the place occupied by the Seniors.) He has grown as to arms and legs — also as to dignity. He discusses track and baseball and wonders where he ' ll fit on the football team. If he should be on the dance com- mittee his responsibility is great and over- whelming. He makes his debut in a dress suit with fear and trembling after giving the family an hour or so of torture getting him into it. His pumps either cram his toes so that he dances like a well, you know, or flop about and almost drive him crazy. On the whole, his first night at a class social is one of the most trying ordeals of his life. He also discovers that more than one of the so-called gentler sex possess wondrous locks, mysterious eyes, and peachy complexions, and he bland- ly wonders at his lack of observance in for- mer days and consequently resolves to make up for lost time. At the same time She has grown up and looks with condescending pity on those childish Sophomores and considers the Freshmen absolutely too babyish. She speaks with almost alarming indifference concerning the next dance and who she may go with, if she feels like it, at the same time wondering if she ' ll get there at all. Her locks no longer trail their golden length adown her shoulders but are caught up with a variety of barrettes, combs and hair pins and she disparingly declares that her hair never will look right. She quite unconsciously apes the Senior girls and is often blissfully ignorant of any such class. She makes her debut at the Junior Par- ty as a full fledged society belle. She be- gins to talk of her career, of college and boarding school. On the whole, she is sort of a sub-deb and self considered social star with a vast and wondrous future open- ing up before her. 1919 At last comes that portion of the school which hds arrived and which consists of those who wonder what they have arrived at. Some creature possessing either an ab- normal mind or so-called creative imagina- tion, once spoke of the upper classmen as dignified Seniors. Alas! his dream was never realized. The Senior boy has lost much of his Jun- ior dignity (?) except in case of necessity. While he is told to set the standard of the school, he determines to get as much out of life as possible and keeps his determina- tion to the despair of the faculty. Girls and social functions bother him not-at-all (?) but he is haunted night and day by the spectre of a predestined event, when he must face the school on his fated day of Rhetoricals. His family wonders what manner of fever he could possibly be get- ting, for, as the long looked for day ap- proaches, he is seized by an abnormal ter- ror which threatens his general constitu- tion. When his turn comes and his name is called, the room seems to swim in an inky blackness which threatens to envelope him; the platform heaves and rolls and he is al- most suffocated by a sinking sensation in the region of his interior. Something seems to take possession of his knees and he rattles off something, he knows not what, — with dispairing eyes fixed on the top of the windows, far above the cruel gaze of his classmates. Later he laughs and declares that, It sure was a grand and glorious feeling. This ordeal over he rests contented (?) through a continuous ebb and flow of re- port cards, discussions on points and diplo- mas and wonders what the deuce is the use of slaving as he does for a confounded piece of paper tied with blue and grey rib- bon. His personal appearance now is fault- less and the Sophs look up to him with a sort of fearful admiration and copy his every move. He has reached a position long 12