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The troopship edges into the dock and happy soldiers wave as they wait eagerly to go ashore. |
Nurses came, too, and they were among the first to disembark. |
Steel-helmeted G.I.'s pack off their own gear. The weather was warm and they soon changed to cooler clothes. |
G.I.'s swarm the streets as they set out to see the town. Cafes and bars like this attracted many of them. |
These fellows couldn't wait to get their money converted at the Army finance office, so they hiked to the nearest money changer. |
There's no alcoholic drinking on a troopship, and liquor stores did brisk business. |
Some soldiers did their sight-seeing in gharries, as gas rationing makes taxi fares virtually prohibitive. |
A picture from India to send to the folks. A U.S. sailor and three staff sergeants pose. |
Indian currency is larger in size than U.S., so these privates buy wallets from a street vendor. |
A newly-arrived Army nurse shops for silk stockings. |
After seeing the town, troop trains take the fellows to their new stations. Anyway, they've had fun. |
PRIVATE GEE EYE BY S/SGT. JACK NOLAN |
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PILOT'S HOMETHOUGHTS Recall the day I flew away . . . ? Did you to your young heart not say, "Be still, Child-heart; it's true he's gone. "Gone now, but once the battle's done, "Upon the winds he'll come for you "And to refuse him, I'll not do . . ." And, too, have you with anxious eyes Not watched the dark and sullen skies, Or listened for the throb and roar Of my return from skies of war? My course may lead to Samarkand Where blazing suns bleach desert sand, Or up above Tibetan peaks Where nature guards her curious freaks With icy crags and snow-storm clouds - But I'll return through blizzard shrouds. And I'll return from barren snows Across the deserts no man knows. And we may then with fate conspire To mould our love to your desire. - Lt. ROBERT L. HARTZELL |
"WHAT IS THE CRUD?"
Hey there, fella. Hi yah Bud Did you ever have the crud? Wait! You did? Well what do you know Come on, give out and tell us Joe Now don't be bashful, don't be shy We won't tell or even ask "why?" We're just curious as old Pete Jud We wanna know, "What is the crud?" Is it a cold or a fever too? Is it something that makes you blue? Is it a thing that aspirin can cure? Do you get it from being bad or pure? Here in India for so darn long We heard it mentioned in poem and song So don't think us fools or just a dud We really mean, "What is the crud?" What! You won't tell and explain to us The reason, the cause for all this fuss You're a fine guy a heck of a Bud Won't help us find, "What is the Crud?" That's O.K. We'll make an appeal To some guys that are human and real The Roundup staff on Per Diem Hill They'll tell us, we know they will. So, Mr. Roundup our story is told Don't think us rash or even bold Our minds are fuddled and as clear as "Mud" Please help us out - "What is the crud?" - Corp. HENRY W. ASHER Jr. |
A KHAKI'S IDEOLOGY
In the Spring of "forty-two" We started 'cross the ocean blue - We sailed and sailed until one day, A fine little town, we came to stay. The people thought us rather queer - And of course, the girls stayed clear. We used to walk the streets - to see Not a "chick" was there to be. The men were dressed in turbans red But, who were looking for such heads - And so as time began to pass Rupees, annas, we spent fast. Gin, brandy, scotch and soda Was the Khaki's famed throat odor. At the Club, we smiled and danced With the gals who wouldn't romance. During the day, it's rather warm - All the year, the Khaki's worn. Moonlight nights are beautiful, too, But where's that Miss for us to woo? Brother, we have all of this - But the family don't trust that Miss, If they seek the American way - Then, romance would be the play. Man, I'm waiting for that boat So 'a homeward I may float - Beautiful moonlight - no can miss. Where the family trusts that Miss. - Corp. LEE E PLEASANTS Jr. |
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