Image provided by: Texas A&M University
About The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current | View Entire Issue (July 29, 1943)
PAGE 2 THE BATTALION THURSDAY MORNING, JULY 29, 1943 The Battalion STUDENT TRI-WEEKLY NEWSPAPER T°x&s A. & M. OOLLEGE The Battalion, official newspaper of the Agrricultural and Mechanical College of Texas and the City of College Station, la published three times weekly, and issued Tuesday, Thursday •nd Saturday mornings. Entered as second class matter at the Post Office at College Station, Texas, under the Act of Congress of March 8, 1870 Subscription rates $3 per school year. Advertising rates upon request. Represented nationally by National Advertising Service, Inc., at New York City, Chicago, Boston, Los Angeles, and San Francisco. Office, Room 5. Administration Building. Telephone 4-5444. 1942 Member 1943 PBsocioted GoUe&iote Press Sylvester Boone EdItor-in-Chief THURSDAY'S STAFF Henry Tillett Managing Editor John H. Kelly Business Manager Conrad B. Cone Business Manager LeValle Wolf Reporter Robert Orrick Reporter Claude Stone Reporter Jacob R. Morgan J. Reporter Fred Manget, Jr —- Reporter Jack E. Turner — Reporter Archie Broodo ......... Columnist Bryan A. Ross Columnist Harold Borofsky Columnist John H. Wirtz Circulation Manager Maurice Zerr Circulation Manager D. W. May Editorial Advisor The following staff members use names other than their own when writing their columns: Sylvester Boone —. Daniel Harold Borofsky ..... Blotto ARMY ENGINEERS STAFF H. P Bradley ..... Editor Ed Babich Associate D. K. Springwater ... Associate Bill Martin Associate M. J. Kaff ......... Associate K. W. Farsoaa Associate False Dawn - - - The spotlight of world events has this wepk been centered on the interesting de velopments in the military government of Italy—the ousting of Benito Mussolini as head of the Facist party and dictator of the Italian government. To say that the removal of il Duce from the position he has occupied for more than two decades has a deeper sig nificance than the breaking of Axis power’s bid for world supremacy would be mislead ing. Many men have risen to power in the struggle of one nation to gain advantage over another as has been recorded in the annals of world history, but when the pressure of bat tle or of public opinion have forced them to leave their exalted positions, it is not nec essarily a significant fact that the nation as a whole is degenerate or that it is any less a formidable adversary. The departure of Mussolini as a leader actor in the theatre of global war may toll the death knell to the Facist party—but it in no way lessens the existence of the Italian nation and its people. Allied Naitons must takes recognition of the fact that there is still a war—that no victory has been won— and that Italy, still under the domination of Germany, with the dividing factor of Fac- ism removed, may be able to rally and pre sent an even more unified front against the advancing armies of invasion. It is only logical to reach the conclusion that instead of looking on Mussolini’s re moval as a triumphant victory, to eye it with suspicion and redouble all efforts instead of relaxing them, so the cause of freedom in the hands of the Allied Nations can march to a successful termination and not be halt ed or side-tracked by the light of a false dawn, which would herald a new era which could be no better and possibly infintely worse than the one which ended when civ ilization plunged itself in to this world-wide massacre. A Little Yellow Man Puts Me Through School A little yellow man put me through this school. I call him my Jap. He is sitting in the mikado’s naval training school some twelve thousand miles away( but he exerts a beneficial influence on me all through school. He is the little man who keeps me working at top speed all the time, and never lets me think of slackening off. My Jap is a young almond-eyed V-7 who enlisted about the same time I did. He is a dogged persistent little oriental who spends all his time studying like a fiend. In his mind is one goal—to sink me. Some day, he knows, we will meet in naval combat near some luscious South Sea isle, and he doesn’t want to be missing any piece of information. So he never misses an assignment, never skims through a lesson, and his notebooks are complete and immaculate. He reviews everything he has learned frequently, so that he will have the information at his finger prints when he tries to feed the tunas. Don’t ask me how I know about him. I had a vision of him early in the course, and it has never left me. When I am tired of studying the fire control system and feel I would like to knock off for awhile to look at the pictures in “Life,” I suddenly see my Jap. He is sitting on a mat in a dormitory, his glasses perched on his orange pekoe nose, grimly absorbing the same ordnance assignment I am inclined to skip. I go back to my book, and I never do see how drum majorettes are training in Texas high schools. Sometimes a bull session down the hall gives off a mellow sussurration which floats to my ears with the same enchantment the songs of the lorelei are said to have had on Man, Your Manners By 1. Sherwood Young people appear to govern their lives more by what their contemporaries are doing than by any authority on manners; but their behavior is just about the same as always so I’m suspicious that occasionally they take a peek at an etiquette book. A young man need not wait to be invit ed to a girl’s home. If he feels that he will be welcome, he should ask to call—it is not improper for the young woman to invite him, though, if it is agreeable to her parents. Young men who linger an unreasonable length of time when they visit a girl become pests. No girl wants to ask a visitor to leave or to have her parents finally call at tention to the hour; if he is considerate he will not make such a measure necessary. The true test of the sort of guest a person is, comes when he is a house guest for several days. A welcome guest—one that will be in vited time and again—will not begin his visit by borrowing equipment from his host. He will take an interest in the family besides the one he is visiting; he will be on time for his meals; he will not monopolize the bath room ; he will not make long distance phone calls and forget to settle for them. He will observe the family customs as much as pos sible. A thoughtful guest brings a gift with him or writes a thank-you note after he leaves. Being a gracious guest is a big respon sibility—a return invitation depends on him. Something to Read By Hazel Adams Grand Gal If you want to meet and exchange ideas with a really fine and most attractive woman, read This Long Journey, by Jenny Lee, British M. P. and labor leader. The lady writes straightforwardly and earnestly and humorously about her own life as a Scotch miner’s daughter, as a hard-fighter in poli tics to make such lives better and more se cure, and as a clear-eyed but intensely inter ested obsrever of twenty turbulent years of world affairs. Jenny Lee accuses her mother, the min er’s wife, of stealing the book,—a lovable, anxious woman, scheming and slaving under an impossible social system to make a com fortable home for her family and to open a decent future to her children. But though Mrs. Lee does dominate the first section nobody could steal the book from Jenny Lee herself. Yet This Long Journey was obviously written, not to assert a personality, but to make people understand and sympathize with a class, to make decent people everywhere protest against an economic and social set up which condemns millions of fine human beings, in this U. S. A. as well as in Britain, to poverty grinding labor, and nerve-wreck ing insecurity, in the wealthiest countries the world has ever seen. I defy anybody to read Jenny Lee’s book without being stirred to such a protest, even though he (like me!) may not be too sure about just what ought to be done about it. I hope, at any rate, that our own lady members of Congress are reading Jenny Lee’s book. If they would read it, the speeches and the votes of some of them might come to be a little less consistently and outrageously reactionary. sailors. My navigation text droops in my hands. Then suddently I see my Jap again. His agile yellow hands have completed a dozen maneuvering board problems, and im planted in his mind is the theory of setting a torpedo to steer a collision course with my ship. Up comes my Navigation book and the bull session sings siren song no more .... Does my Jap sound a little like super man to you? Not at all. He just hasn’t got the devil-may care spirit which is America’s great blessing and its failing. You see, ever since he can remember he knew he was go ing to be called upon to sink the white devil, and he never forgets what he is doing. We, on the other hand, are so unused to the idea of battle that we rarely correlate some dull ordnance chore with the fateful moment when we must all meet our Japs. We tend to get a false perspective, and we forget our enemies, the Axis, not the drill department. So on the whole, I am grateful for my Jap. He gives me no rest and he works me to death, but he keeps reminding me what this whole part of my life means. If I can help it, he will not get ahead of me, I have better facilities, better teachers, and, what is more, I am fighting for true freedom, which gives me a tremendous edge on that little yellow weevil. When we do meet out there near that South Sea isle, I am pretty sure I am going to knock the living daylights out of my Jap. And I won’t be sorry. Fci then and only then will he let me rest.— Cadeteer. NAVY NEWS TOP-KICK The following article is written about a person any Marine sta tioned here at A. & M. can de scribe down to his G. I. shoes. First Sergeant William P. Fec- cia enlisted in the Marine Corps, long before most of us had finish ed high school. He was transported to “Boot” camp, at the Govern ment's expense, on May 17, 1937, a good six years ago. Here he went through four months of rough, tough, sweltering, “boot” camp and was promptly sent to Sea School. Yes! Top also came through Sea School with flying colors, and was transferred aboard the “battlewa- gon” Wyoming for sea duty. He served aboard the Wyoming for a number of years, and can tell quite a few salty tales once he gets started. The First Sergeant has seen sea duty aboard four U. S. Battlewa- gons, the New York, the Arkansas, The Texas, and the Wyoming. While he was abord the Wyo ming, she tied up in San Juan harbor for minor repairs, and tied up directly along side the Cruiser Memphis. Top’s brother CPO John ^Ufic jCo(AJCLOOJn on . Qamtyus Tlistractions By Ben Fortson Today and tomorrow at Guion Hall is the first real story about the much talked of Commandos. COMMANDOS STRIKE AT DAWN, starring Paul Muni. This is a picture concerning the workings and dangers of the da ring Commandos who raid the Ger man sea coast under the quiet of night. Paul Muni is a man who has learned to hate the Nazis like most everyone else and as a Commando, gets his revenge on them for their doings. The Lowdown: A true to life show you certainly won’t want to miss. At the Campus is CHINA, with Loretta Young and Alan Ladd. This is one of the mose exciting pictures yet to be filmed about the long war between the Japs and Chinese. It concerns a man named Jones (Alan Ladd) who is working for an American oil firm selling oil to the Japanese before the out break of our present war with them. Loretta Young is an American girl who is trying to teach the Chinese women under the very strained conditions of war and constant bombing. Ladd changes his mind about selling oil to the Japs and starts throwing bullets at them instead. The scenes are very graphically filmed and the show will hild your interest from the beginning ‘til the exciting end. The Lowdown: Grand. C. Feccia was aboard the Mem phis, and never once did the two brothers see each other. This in cident may not strike you as being very unusual but Top will never see his brother again. You see, CPO John Feccia went down with his ship in the Java Sea about five or six months ago, after serving twelve years in the U. S. Navy. The Feccia family has now five sons in the service of the U. S. Government. Two are in the Ar my, two in the Navy and “Top” is in the Marine Corps. Not a bad representation for one family is it? . First-Man Feccia spent about 2 years in the Panama Canal Zone, and knows the Canal like his own back yard. He also spent 14 months in the Horse Marines. He and about twenty other “bronco-bust- in” Marines patroled an area ap proximately 1000 acres in circum ference. The official name for this station was Marine Barracks, Na val Ammunition Depot, Hingham, Mass., and it supplied the Atlantic Fleet with munitions and supplies. The First Sergeant’s home is in Milford, Mass., so you can readily see why, Top liked duty at the munitions dump in Hingham, Mass. But like all good things, it rapidly came to an end and Top arrived at Quantico, Va. He stated that Quantico was and still is one of the best posts in the Corps. Here Top spent a few pleasant weeks and was then transferred to A. & M., and Quantico’s loss became our gain. The Top has made a great num ber of friends while here at A. & M. and will continue to make more. Top needs no fancy build-up to put him across, his clean record as a top-notch Marine speaks for itself. At this point I would like to thank the First Sergeant for his cooperation because without it, this article would never have ma terialized. Corp. L. X. McCusker. Sgt. Bill Hawk, the widely re known “Bald Eagle” is pretty much disgusted with the way Uncle Sam my is running the mail these days. It seems that every time Bill gets a letter, he learns of another of his numerous girl friends coming marriage. We feel for you Bill, but we can’t quite reach you. PFC Roy “Tyrone” Powers, as he is called by most of his pupils, is getting himself in hot water. It seems that some predatory female from Houston has her sights set on our boy, with the object of Ma trimony. . . . The latest reports leads us to believe Roy is fighting a losing battle. W riter U nkno wn— REFLECTIONS The Navy’s definition of Junior Y (jg):—Insomnia in uniform.— It is no longer CSp (A) Bailey, but Lieut, (jg) Bailey—Congratula tions—The same congrats to Bill Butler, Ex-Ag and former stu dent in the Operators School on his Ensigns commission—Has any one a fan for sale ? ? ? ?—I need one to appease the wife—(How much does that cost me, Ed)—I noticed that the Bureau finally found those fourteen lost souls at Anchor Hall.—How does it feel boys, to know that you’ve been rescued? No sooner do I tell the world (via Bat.) about how much our dentist does around this station when along comes Dear Old Bureau, and sends some help—- Maybe it’s the power of suggestion but anyway, welcome, Lieut, (jg) Dillard.—And welcome to Bill An derson Y3c—Another new arrivel, stamping on the “Welcome” mat in front of Anchor Hall.—For a long time I refused to go to the Slab on Saturday nights because I didn’t think I would enjoy the incessant tapping on my left shoul der—But big hearted me, I take my wife out there where she can enjoy some 600 sags along with ten or fifteen other loyal morale boosters. Finally my wife, with rolling pin in one fist, and bolo in the other, persuaded me to take her to one of the dances. And so I petted my little genii (a cute blonde with that O’ My Gosh fig ure) and trusted to luck. And we really had a good time, (my wife and I, I mean.) The floor and manners were a bit rough at times but shall we let it rest when I say I have seen worse.—By the way, “Hello” Coast Guardsmen.— Seems as if everyone, including yours truly, has forgotten that we do have some Coast Guard boys in our midst.—About the only time we hear or see them is when their pay checks come in—The entire yeoman force was out looking for a seeing eye dog for Glassey Y3c when he lost his glasses. Fortunate ly for us and the dog, Glassey’s glassies were found (???).— Thanks to the loud speaker in the mess hall—The voice without a face—Who in the ’ell is he any way?—Every once in a while when I’m very thirsty I see some sol diers go past with a little jug latched to their fist, and I begin to wonder why . How about the Yeoman from Conn, who thought he would buy a steer farm, but was worried about where he could hire cattle guards.—We all hope the detached duty for Munson Y2c won’t last over two or three years, Amen. —Arrange ments are being made to have Jan Garber play for the September Navy Dance—With cool weather peeping it’s head around the cor ner (I hope), it should be a good deal.—And a more probable idea is to have Jack Teagaren play.— Sounds good—. I guess we all have our troubles. —The other day a fellow walked into a cafe and ordered coffee with out cream. As a matter of fact he insisted that it be without cream. The waiter left and was gone several long minutes. Finally he returned with a sad gleam in his eye and morunfully asked, “We haven’t any cream, would you care for your coffe without milk?” I had a dream the other night— Ah! What a dream—There I was, seated before or behind my desk— (the scenery was blurred)—ruff ling my hair, squinting my eyes, racking my brain and smoking cigarette after cigarette, trying to get an idea for my column. I had to have an idea for the few words I had managed to squeeze out of my typewriter wouldn’t even have been seen, hidden away in the depths of the Bat.—While I was vainly trying to meet with a sud den streak of brilliance, the door quietly opened and in strode a- bout twenty sailors, each with a fistful of copy and matter-of- factly laid it on my desk and quite modestly stated, “It isn’t very much, and it isn’t very good, but next week we’ll have more.”—Just then I fell out of bed and woke up with a concussion of the brain and two fractured brain cells.— Ah! But what a dream. ELEGY TO BATTLEWAGONS Dead, to rise no more; Unliving hulks, forgotten lore, The mighty ships of a bygone age; Gone, their proud and vengeful rage. Their proud and taunting prow, And wide swaggering hips, ! LOUPOT’S I Where You Always Get a Fair Trade Can no longer keep their vow, For they now are ghost ships. Ships and crews and all their deeds, O Honor, Valor and Victory; Have planted, and firmly grew the seeds, That will always live in history. Their victory flags now are furled, Their gallantry has shown the world; How the glory of men in right, Can live through the darkest night. The ghostly bell is tolling now, Hear the erie cry of wounded ships, So drink their toast on the ghostly prow; ‘May the flagon of eternal peace touch your lips’. W. R. Suda Y2c Milner Medley By Archie Broodo Good gosh, the holidays are al ready over, and they were so slow getting here too. The next guy that says something favorable about the woman situation to me gets crowned. Really believe now that Bryan has more opportunities than the “Big D”. Pat Gibbons says otherwise. Claims he has a woman on the line so well, she’s coming down to visit him. What about that Cajun wo man, Pat? Too bad about you— sad case. Seems as though lotsa other Aggies were working it up in Dallas, Friday and Saturday night. Ed Darke had to travel all the way to Louisiana for his woo ing but he claims hitch-hiking was good and that he went around with ‘em three at a time. Say, how far is it to Louisiana, anyhow? Art Graf and Bill Brough did O. K. in San Antonio, they say. One bit of good news it says hehr. Roy “Bed bug” Reynolds reversed the tables and gave the women a case of “Reds”. “Romeo” Veien gave’em hell someplace besides Bryan for a whole weekend. Amazing how sparkling and fresh the Bryan beauties looked after a weekend of relief from Ole Army. Conrad Sommers was satisfied with going to Navasota, Terrell’s stomping grounds, and taking his much need ed vacation from studies. Red Tur ner (the spooner crooner) wants his John Henry in print. Here you are “Bing”. Peach jam sure is good. Try some. Commercial. Tell you the company in next issue. A compliment to the Frogs. Seems as though they finally learn ed how to conduct themselves hitch-hiking. All I came in con tact with over the weekend seemed to have their heads out anyway. Thursday - Friday - Saturday “THE MORE THE MERRIER” — with — JEAN ARTHUR JOEL McCREA CHARLES COBURN Preview Saturday Night 11:00 P. M. “IN WHICH WE SERVE” — with — NOEL COWARD — Plus Popeye - News Keep it up, Freshmen. You’ll be* come Aggies in spite of your selves. Deisler and Stratman, the Mil ner bachelors, kept watch over the good “Club” and fought enough rats off to keep the dorm from (See MILNER, Page 4) Phone 4—1168 fsTXTs 9c & 20c Tax Included Box Office Opens 1 p. m. Closes 7:30 Thursday and Friday Paul Muni — in — “COMMANDOS STRIKE at DAWN” also Shorts Saturday Only Pat O’Brien and John Garfield — in — “FLOWING GOLD” Also Shorts Dial 4-1181 Open at 1 p. m. Air Conditioned By Refrigeration PAT and EMILY appearing daily except Monday. — also — CARTOON - SHORT - NEWS HEY KIDS! For Free Admission Any Weekday Afternoon — Monday — Friday. NOTICE! • SHAVE * HAIRCUT at AGGIELANI) BARBER SHOP SMART UNIFORMS / Require a Smart Appearance VISIT OUR SHOP OFTEN YMCA & VARSITY BARBER SHOP Old “Y” New “Y” l