If someone hadn't the courage to snatch it away from S/Sgt. Jack Nolan, Roundup staff artist, this provocative
picture of flickerdom's lovely Dona Drake would not have graced page one. Nolan wanted to study it (HE claimed)
for artistic reasons. Hmmmm!!
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U.S. troops knocked out a Jap tank on a Guadalcanal beach. After it stopped burning, the Americans advanced
to investigate. What dropped out is shown graphically above.
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"The route to the designated target was pointed out to Bombardier Lt. Ola P. Thorne by Flight Leader Lt. Col.
William R. Starke."
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"Using a simplified map of the target area, Maj. J. S. Perrucello briefed the details of the mission for the
bombardiers."
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"It was important that guns be checked prior to the flight by S/Sgt. E. T. Friedman."
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"Of course, motors must not fail, so Pfc. John E. Sullivan checked the mechanism of the engine."
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"Then came the loading of the bombs, so heavy that they were trundled to the plane by a special cart."
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"Crew members slept while their planes were made shipshape. An alarm clock awakened Sgt. F. C. Wenderel."
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"Soon the B-24s headed toward the target. Thanks to the ground crews, the motors purred reassuringly."
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"No one relaxed his vigilance. The waist gunner was at his post, scanning the skies anxiously for Zeros."
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"The bombardier glued the target in the cross-hairs of his sight... Then the bombs dropped toward the bridge."
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"Our final photograph vividly tells the story of the success of the mission. Bombs fell accurately in the target
area. The Jap threw some ack-ack at us, but the bursts didn't come close."
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'COME AND GET IT, GANG'
In the beginning was nothing. Then Capt. Ken Berryhill got on the job and soon brick walls were rising near IATF
Headquarters. A week later, it was practically finished. "It's ready, gang. Come in," says S/Sgt. Roscoe
Alexander, right, to Sgt. Niles Fenton, center, and S/Sgt. Alex Worgaftik. Finally, dinner is served in the main
dining salon, with Pfc. Paul Neeley and T/4 John Murphy, right, facing the camera at the nearest table.
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President Roosevelt affixes his signature to the bill extending Lend-Lease, while Senator Alben Barkley, majority
leader, and Edward R. Stettinius, Lend-Lease Administrator, look on approvingly.
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ITINERANT BOMB SQUADRON
MAY JOIN TRAVEL BUREAU
By ERNIE PYLE Scripps-Howard News Alliance Writer |
Thrice rescuer of pilots stranded in the tangled Burma-Assam jungle area, Maj.
Paul Droz, left, receives the D.F.C.
from Brig. Gen. Caleb V. Haynes, CG of the India Air Task Force. Droz made the thrilling rescues with a trainer
plane.
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The plane settled to the ground, lumbered to a stop and Brig. Gen. Benjamin G. Ferris, Theater Deputy Chief-of-Staff,
stepped forward to greet the important visitor. He was Maj. Gen. Dawson Olmstead (third from left), Chief Signal
Officer of the U.S. Army, here on an inspection tour. The group includes, left to right, Col. Samuel S. Lamb,
Theater Chief Signal Officer; Brig. Gen. Frank C. Meade, Olmstead's assistant; Olmstead; and Ferris.
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JAP LOSING PLANES AT RATIO OF 6-1 WASHINGTON - The War Department announced that United States Army Air Forces shot down 384 Japanese planes during the past three months while losing only 54 planes of their own. The announcement added that the American losses included all planes listed as missing as well as those destroyed in combat, but the enemy losses were confined to those known to be destroyed. |
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OUR STRETCH IN HELL I'm sitting here and thinking, of the things I left behind; I hate to put on paper, What is running through my mind. We've cleaned a million rifles, and walked our miles of ground; A meaner place this side of Hell, is waiting to be found. But there's just one consolation, gather closely while I tell; We'll die and go to Heaven, 'cause we've served our stretch in Hell. We've cleaned a million kitchens, for cooks to fix our beans. And walked the guard a million nights, and boy, the pots we've cleaned. Many a night we froze, as the mercury - it fell. But we won't freeze in Heaven, 'cause we all froze in Hell. |
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We heard the doggone bugle blow, from morning until night. We'd like to kill the dirty son, he gypped us of our right. The NCO's over us, their number we couldn't tell; But we'll bar them all from Heaven, 'til they've served their stretch in Hell. We've built a million bridges, and walked through miles of mud; Cleaned a million mess kits, and peeled many a spud. We've killed a million ants and bugs, from beneath each dirty sheet. But when the final call is sounded, and we lay aside life's cares, It's then we'll do the big parade, right up those golden stairs. The angels there will welcome us, their harps will start to play; We'll draw a million canteen books, and spend them in a day. It's then that old St. Peter, will greet us with his yell: "Go up and take your front seats, boys, you've served your stretch in Hell." - By Cpl. LEONARD STEINBERG |
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RUMORS, RUMORS, EVERYWHERE It's rumored this, it's rumored that To tell the truth we don't know what. First we're here and then we're there, "Rumors, Rumors, Everywhere." We're going home, the rumors say But they don't mention any day. They lie to us and that's not fair, "Rumors, Rumors, Everywhere." Where they start from no one knows, "Stool 3" in the house of repose? But we're not sure they come from there, "Rumors, Rumors, Everywhere." I guess it's human nature, though, To scatter rumors to and fro. But lies and truth don't make a pair, "Rumors, Rumors, Everywhere." So let's be wise until that day We reach the good old U.S.A. An then let's shout with naughty flair To hell with "Rumors, Everywhere." - By Cpl. HENRY W. ASHER |
BY S/SGT. JACK NOLAN
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