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By Sgt. Smith Dawless The old gray warrior has done his part: Remember the iron pressure of his hand, The kindliness within his valiant heart, His tolerance toward those of every land, Furrowed by full years, his gentle face, Humorous... deep-bronzed by Burma's sun Is touched with the simplicity and grace Of all great men whose missions are well done. Yet in the troubled days ahead, a spry Lean ghostly figure will be seen along The Ledo Road - his campaign hat awry - Roaring in his jeep down toward Mogaung. Past lifting jungle hills, and we shall say, "You see? He never really went away!" |
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Parts of an American Lend-Lease jeep are disassembled on one side of a Chinese mountain to be brought over trails to the Burma Road for reassembling. |
At the other end of the trip, Chinese mechanics, who never before worked on a jeep, place the body on the frame after carrying the sections nearly 15 miles. |
Lt. Gen. Soong Hsi-Lien, Commanding General of the Chinese 11th Army Group, proudly shows the jeep to Col. Walter S. Wood, of the Y-Force Operations Staff. |
IT OUGHT TO BE OFFICIAL BY NOW
By Sgt. ALBERT O. FENYVESSY FIGHTER CONTROL SQUADRON BURMA - If you had a name which your buddies could easily change for you, we wonder if you'd be as happy about it as Pvt. Kenneth Cashdollar. Cashdollar, a cook's helper, says he doesn't mind the boys having fun with his name. If they enjoy it, it's OK with him. Back Stateside, he was called Cashmoney or Cashpenny as often as his correct moniker. Now that the exchange is in Indian money, his pals refer to him as Cashrupee. Cashdollar, who is 19 and hails from East McKeesport, Pa., was surprised the other day when his Mess Officer called him Cahrupee. Says Cash, "When an officer calls me by my wrong name, that's the payoff!" |
Considerable Experience |
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GET GOING Americans are always moving on, It's an old Spanish custom gone astray, A sort of English fever, I believe. Or just a mere desire to take French leave. I couldn't say. A west wind blowing, the wind of a western star, To gather men's lives like pollen and cast them forth, Blowing in hedge and highway and seaport town. Whirling dead leaf and living, but always blowing. A salt wind, a sea wind, a wind from the world's end. From the coasts that have new, wild names, from the huge unknown Americans are always moving on. - By S/Sgt. VIRGIL D. McKIBBEN GATEWAY OF INDIA The threshold to adventure is a door Through which the Arabian sea-breeze, softly blown, Assails a land where mud huts, by the crore And palaces make contrasts of their own. The Gateway of India is more Than a monumental arch of slate stone. Through portals of the past one may explore. The East the West has never fully know. - By Sgt. ELWOOD JONES |
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