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History shows
women tough
as men
United Press International
Early American history contains
some evidence women battle pretty
good when the occasion demands
— and they can be ruthless.
The knowledge may help
females and males as they debate
the propriety of registering women
for a draft — as proposed by Presi
dent Carter.
History also records that Amer
ican females can be brave and
courageous without being in com
bat. Or sharpshooters under other
than battle conditions.
Consider Annie Oakley, marks-
woman. Born on a farm in Darke
County, Ohio, Phoebe Ann Moses
(her real name) developed an
amazing proficiency with guns.
Legend says as a child she hunted
game with great success. Game
she bagged was sold, helping the
family pay off the mortgage on the
farm.
When 15 she won a shooting
match in Cincinnati with Frank E.
Butler, a vaudeville marksman.
They married and until 1885
played vaudeville circuits, later join
ing “Buffalo Bill” Cody’s Wild West
Show. She was billed as “Miss
Annie Oakley, the Peerless Lady
Wing Shot.” (If this sounds familiar,
her story was the basis of the hit
musical “Annie Get Your Gun”.)
“At 30 paces she could split a
playing card held edge-on,” said
Bob McHenry, a history expert
asked to cite some females who did
well in battle or otherwise showed
bavery, courage or proficiency on
male turf.
“She shot cigarettes from her
husband’s lips. Shooting at a play
ing card tossed into the air, she rid
dled it before it touched ground.
“This is why punched com
plimentary tickets are referred to as
‘Annie Oakleys.’”
McHenry is the editor of a book of
mini-biographies of remarkable
American women — “Liberty’s
Women” (G. and C. Merriam Co.)
He said few women or men either
could match the continuous heroics
of Ida Lewis, of Newport, R.l. Born
1842, the became keeper at Lime
Rock lighthouse in the Newport har
bor at the age of 15 after her dad,
History also records that
American females and males
can be brave and courageous
without being in combat.
who first held the job, was disabled.
Her feats included:
—Around 1859, rescuing four
young men whose boat had cap
sized.
—In 1866, rescuing a drunken
sailor whose boat foundered in a
storm.
—In 1867, during a terrific gale,
rescuing three shepherds who had
gone into the water after a valuable
sheep. She saved the sheep, too.
—At the age of 64, she plucked a
drowning woman from the water.
Her heroic feats over the years
earned Miss Lewis a Carnegie Hero
Fund pension and a gold medal
from the American Cross of Honor
Society.
As for American women in battle,
McHenry said if past is prologue,
some adventuresome types might
be expected to do well.
Take Molly Pitcher— real name,
Mary Ludwig Hays McCauley. At
the battle of Monmouth, June 28,
1778, she was with her husband’s
regiment and toted water in a pitch
er to artillery men. That’s what
earned the nickname.
When her spouse caved in from
the heat, she took his place at the
gun, serving heroically until battle’s
end.
After the war she retired to Car
lisle, Pa. The Commonwealth of
Pennsylvania authorized a $40 a
year pension for her.
Sarah Emma Evelyn Edmonds
was another female fighter. In Flint,
Mich., shortly after the Civil War
erupted, she enlisted under the
name of Frank Thompson. Her out
fit was the volunteer infantry that
became Company F, 2nd Michigan
Infantry.
She was in battle lines a year,
fighting at Blackburn’s Ford and
Bull Run. And in the Peninsular
campaign of May-July 1862. She
also fought at Fredericksburg, Dec.
13,1862. Twice, at least, she went
on spy missions behind Confeder
ate lines — each time "disguised”
as a woman!
She eventually deserted, took
the name Sarah Edmonds and con
tinued working, this time as a nurse.
In 1865 she published a popular fic
tional account of her adventures. It
was titled “Nurse and Spy in the
Union Army.”
Her service was recognized
when Congress granted her a pen
sion. Before she died in 1898 in
Houston, she was mustered into the
Grand Army of the Republic as a
regular.
Deborah Sampson, disguised as
a man, enlisted in 1782. McHenry
said she got away with it — being
tall, strong, and well-coordinated.
She enlisted in Capt. George
Webb’s company of the 4th Mas
sachusetts, using the name Robert
Shurtleff.
Serving over a year without de
tection, she received a saber
wound in a skirmish near Tarry-
town, N.Y. A few weeks later she
was hurt by a musket ball in a fight
near East Chester. To avoid discov
ery, she dresed the second wound
herself. Later she did battle in West
ern New York and Philadelphia.
But after that illness put her in the
hospital — and her cover was
blown.
Formally discharged in 1783, she
was provided a sum of money by
Gen. Henry Knox. In 1792 she was
granted money by the Mas
sachusetts General Court for her
services.
In 1895 she was granted a veter
an’s disability pension by Con
gress.
McHenry said Miss Sampson is
unique among women as a genuine
Revolutionary War veteran and
pensioner. After she died in 1827,
History has even recorded a
female Paul Revere. Of sorts.
Her name is Sybil 5
her widower, Benjamin Gannett,
was granted a survivor’s pension.
Ann Baily’s feats proved women
can wage war, too. She took up rifle
and tomahawk afer her husband
was killed at the battle of Point
Pleasant in 1774. She became a
frontier scout, messenger, spy and
Indian fighter.
With her second husband she
moved to a site at what is now Char
leston, W.Va.
Its main settlement, Fort Lee,
was besieged by Indians in 1791.
When the defenders’ powder ran
low, she rode for help, dashing from
the fort through the host of
attackers.
She rode a hundred miles
through woods to Fort Union, pre
sent day Lewisburg. The third day
she returned to the fort, toting gun
powder.
She was formally mustered out of
the army in 1783 and is buried at
West Point.
History has even recorded a
female Paul Revere. Of sorts. Her
name is Sybil Ludington. On April
26, 1777, news was brought to her
father’s home in Fredericksburg,
now Ludingtonville, N.Y., that Gov.
William Tryon was attacking Dan
bury, Conn. That was 15 miles
away and the storage place for
munitions and other supplies for the
militia of the entire region.
The messenger was exhausted
and Sybil volunteered to bear the
order for muster and rouse the
countryside.
Throughout the night, the 16-
year-old girl rode her horse on un
familiar roads around Putnam
county, spreading the alarm.
History records also the feats of
Anna Warner Baity. “Mother Baily”
walked several miles to the scene of
battle of Groton, Conn., in 1781.
She found her uncle mortally
wounded. She hurried home,
gathered the family transported
them to the battle site for a last
meeting.
History records something else
about “Mother Baily.”
“In 1813,” McHenry said, “in the
second war with Britain, she
appeared among Groton soldiers in
defense of New London.
“She even contributed her flan
nel petticoat for use as cartridge
wadding.”
The splash of a single drop of milk as National Geographic TV Special called
observed through high speed photogra- “The Invisible World.” It will air Monday,
phy — 1/10,000 of a second exposure — is March 3, at 7 p.m. on Channel 15.
only part of what will be presented in a
‘Foolin’ Around’ just
like kiddie matinee
By KATHLEEN McELROY and
MARGO MARTENS
Don’t let the TV previews for “Foolin’ Around” fool you.
It’s not college humor a la Animal House — it’s kiddie matinee
laced with just enough dirty words and references to sex to keep
adolescents happy.
The first and foremost problem is the plot. It’s the standard Coun
try Bumpkin (Gary Busey) goes off to the the Big School, falls in love
with Rich Girl who has the Perfect (but sinister) Boyfriend.
Our Hero tries a myriad of methods — all embarassing — to win
Our Heroine’s heart and in the end...well, you can figure it out.
Busey, who showed his obvious talent in “The Buddy Holly Story,”
REVIEW
tries the best he can with the mediocre script, and in the beginning
manages to capture the audience.
But the plot is so obvious and the gags are so old that the average
movie-goer with over a ninth grade education will lose interest in
Busey and the movie.
Other cast members, including big names like Cloris Leachman
and Eddie Albert, do the best they can with the script, and make their
roles as the bossy mother and the concerned grandfather believable,
but it just isn’t enough to give the movie credibility.
The biggest waste of talent was Tony Randall who played a short,
foul-mouthed version of Lurch, the butler on television’s “The
Addams’ Family.” Randall is involved in the most distasteful scene in
the movie — a pseudo sex scene with Leachman.
True, parts of the movie are funny or at least tolerable. But it’s too
high school, or maybe even junior high — the crotch gags, the
cursing for shock value — everyone in the theater under 15 loved it.
In perhaps the most juvenile scene of all, Busey and Annette
O’Toole (the object of his affection) declare their true love for each
other — and then proceed to make out in the back of a van.
The time you would spend to see “Foolin’ Around” would be best
spent fooling around — even if it’s watching reruns of Love Boat and
Fantasy Island.
It’s just that bad.