Newspaper Page Text
PAGE FOUR
a /
REGIMENTAL^^^
MfM IRRORJ
if eVTUe^cw^tic
Office. Building 73
Published Every Thursday by and for the Enlisted Men of the Academic
Regiment. The Infantry School. Fort Benning. Ga
THURSDAY. APRIL 13, 1944
The REGIMENTAL MIRROR receives Camp Newspaper
Service material Republication of credited matter prohibited
without permission of CNS, 205 E 42 St., N Y. C., 17
COL E P. PASSAILAIGUE LT VERNON C HOYT
Commanding Advisor
SGT. WALTER MILLER Editor
Cpl. Johnston C. Woodall Assistant Editor
Pvt. June Freed Secretary
War Aims As Practical
As Ten Commandments
By Chaplain Samson Shain
Perhaps you have read the fol
lowing translation of a Russian
song declaring what we are
fighting for
A girl kissed a soldier good
bye
On the porch one lovely night
And as he shipped into the
fog
Her window blinked a light
The maiden wrote the soldier
That what they hoped for
would transpire,
That her love would never die
And the light would not ex
pire .
Now the soldier fights much
harder
For his country—and the light.
Perhaps, too, you have seen
the following statement by an
American of what we are fight
ing for:
For the right to stand up in
the world with my bride by
my side, and her hand on my
arm
For the right to speak up in
my town and have my say and
then sit down For the right
every night to run up the steps
of my home and pick up and
hold a son of my own. For his
right and her right and mine
to grow up; to work in the
same America I left behind
where there's freedom to
breathe freedom to move up
to new and better things to
look up to the skies and recog
nize that in America there will
be always a limitless opportu
nity to rise as high, to go as
far as courage and strength
and ability can take one
Both statements are clean and
elevating, giving us heart and
courage and strength to endure
.he rigors of military training,
face mortal danger, and fight till
victory is ours.
NOT FAR ENOUGH
However inspiring though
these two vivid pictures of what
we fight for may be, they do
not give the whole goal, the end
for which we really dream, the
description of our deepest amd
most permanent stake in the
present war. The second state
ment, to be sure, goes further
tham the first, and movingly so,
but It does not go far enough!
With Europe only a day away
from us by plane, and only a few
minutes away from us by tel
ephone; with an invasion of
Manchukio setting off a fuse
causing bombs to burst in an
endless chain from China to E
thiopia to Central Europe, Ha
waii and America—should not
our statement of what we are
fighting for embrace not only the
immediate goal of our own hap-
Phone 3846
piness, but the -further goal of
our distant neighbors’ peace and
security? Let our soldier have
no light blinking im his sweet
heart's window; let him not be
able to have his bride on his arm,
speak out his heart to his coun
trymen, or go as far as his abil
ity and strength and courage can
carry him, and we lose the same;
there will rise a wind to blow
out our light, and snuff out our
freedom too
America could not be half
slave and half free. Likewise,
the world, smaller now with the
development of rapid communi
cations, cannot be half slave and
half free. The alternative is per
petual strife, perpetual rebellion,
perpetual war
NO PARTIAL VICTORY!
Let us, therefore, adopt for
ourselves vivid pictures of what
we are fighting for; yes, but pic
tures that tell the whole story,
pictures that do not lead into
blind isolation or cowardly ap
peasement, pictures that will not
keep us satisfied with a partial
victory—a victory in which we
win the war and not the peace—
a victory in which we get only
what we want, and let the rest
of the world go hang Let us
adopt pictures that call for the
liberation of the whole human
family, for the kindling of the
light of freedom in every man’s
home, for the right of eVery
man, every child of God to life,
liberty and the pursuit of hap
piness And let there rise a poet
to set it down for us in enduring
words for all of us to learn and
live by Neither America nor
Russia can be made better to
live in unless the whole world
too is made safer and more se
cure.
All will say they agree with
these goals, but many will add:
“Ah, but the task is too great;
and life is too short; the vision
is impractical; we can never re
alize it."
True, but the Ten Comman
dants, when proclaimed, were
declared impractical; the Magna
Carta, when issued, said to be
only a piece of paper; the Dec
laration of Independence a phan
tasy! And now the Bible shines
The accompanying article
was written for the MIRROR
by Capt. Samson A Shain,
Jewish chaplain of Fort Ben
ning, just before he left for a
new and important assignment
elsewhere One of the most
popular chaplains at Benning,
Capt Shain left his congrega
tion in Sunnyside, Long Island,
to come here as a first lieu
tenant in July 1942.
REGIMENTAL MIRROR
Ao/ THROUGH
CHANNELS
This morning we arrived at the
office carrying our basic wea
pon (typewriter, portable, Ml),
whistling merrily at the thought
of another day’s work in the
swindle chair. First we re
moved our sign (“Regimental
Smearer, Sgt Filler, editor”)
from the first floor latrine, where
Cpl. Hank Miller's boys so
thoughtfully place it each night,
and gleefully hung it back on its
rightful hook. We swung the
door open at precisely 0815 (ser
geant-major please note) and
slid into the inner sanctum on a
pile of mail lying inside the
door. The busy sounds of the
Battle of Benning were already
coming from the office next door.
Cpl Sq wurtz, orientation clerk,
was spreading himself out over
the map of Europe to make his
battle flags catch up to the day’s
news. After starting the morn
ing off right by promoting Freed
to T-7 we happily opened the
mail and read our GI GALLEY,
little paper for Army editors
which contained this sad item
from China:
CHUNGKING— “Something
should be done about the
health of journalists,” remark
ed Gen. Chiang-Kai-Shek at
a press conference today. “They
seem always to be in such
poor health "
Suddenly deflated we stagger
ed to our desk and slumped into
the swindle chair, suffering in
quiet. Desperately we tried to
think of the last time we were
on sick call. Back back, yes,
over a year ago we limped to the
dispensary to try to get out of a
twenty-mile hike. We wrote an
editorial while sweating out the
line that always seemed longest
on the day there was a twenty
mile hike. Guess we just had-
LIFE SAVERS
■ rRPREwt2
WHEN you reach a new position, dig
in first and gab afterwards. The idea of
waiting until the shooting starts" may
catch you out in the open and un
protected '
through the darkness of oppres
sion to give light and hope to all
mankind today; and the Magna
Carta and Declaration of Inde
pendence are models for all peo
ples that would be free
SEE GOAL CLEARLY
Religious sincerity, political
honesty, and sound common
sense, demand thoroughgoing
devotion to such a new and
embracing vision And though
the task be great, the time be
short, and the Lord on high de
manding, we understand it is not
for us to finish the job, but to do
our honest bit and those who
come after us, who also do their
honest bit, will, in God’s own
day, complete the task But let
us see clearly our Goal, keep it
ever in mind, and contribute our
.full share to its achievement
By SGT WALTER MILLER
n’t noticed our ills since then
Time, that’s it!
Sadly we thought of the civil
ian days, when a journalist was
on 24-hour call seven days a
week, because news didn't slow
down oin Sundays or during
sleeping hours. We realized
that soldiers too are on 24-hour
call seven days a week because
a war doesn’t slow down on Sun
days or during sleeping hours.
We realized, getting sicker each
minute, that by pure arithmetic,
now that we were soldier-re
porters, we must be working 48
hours a day 14 days a week! It
was too, too ghastly to contem
plate. But far, far off in wise
and ancient China there was
somebody who knew and under
stood . Perhaps we could get a
message to him (through chan
nels!) which would help him
help us help ourselves.
Dear General, it would run
We just realized with a shock
that we’ve never seen any jour
nalist die of old age. We al
ways thought, in that smug way
reporters have, that journalists
just stayed young. But we see
now that it’s probably because
they die off early and disappear
. how would anybody know; a
reporter is never news!
Anyhow, general, as we see it
you can cure our illness only by
wiping out, man by man, the
human race, and if we can pre
vent that, we're willing to hold
out till the next deadline!
You’d have to start off by eli
minating the photographer—he
who crouches with us at third
base when Zenny Bentearer
comes around the sack, he who
explodes a flash bulb in Zenny’s
face and then grins at us in
triumph and says “Wotta shot!”
and then looks at his camera and
sees that he didn’t expose the
plate!
Next we'd have to remove the
printer who rewrites your
best headlines, such as RUSSO
STACKS UP WITH TOPNOT
CHERS to (1 can’t look!)
RUSSO SHACKS UP WITH
And the typesetter who indul-
TURN IN PULLMAN TOWELS
TO HELP TROOPS IN TRANSIT
If you get your laundry back this week with one less
towel than you sent off, think twice before going down to
the supply sarge with a beef. Because if it was a towel
with the word PULLMAN woven into the fabric, you
won’t get it back “Your” towel has been retained by the
post laundry officer and will be turned over to the Pull
man Company by the post transportation officer.
Your beef will simmer down to even less than a grum
ble when you realize that “your” towel is going back into
service on troop trains to help make up for a tremendous
shortage of linen which is hampering the Pullman Com
pany’s service to troops in transit. Just as you wouldn’t do
anything to hurt an American buddy in combat, so you
will have no objection to helping him enjoy the few com
forts of train travel that you had when you were in transit.
Not only will your laundry be carefully scrutinized
during the next few weeks to remove all PULLMAN prop
erty, but it is likely that future inspections might include
a “careful check to determine whether any property of the
Pullman Company is present” (memorandum, 6 April 1944,
Headquarters The Infantry School).
Everybody knows that a GI just can’t ever get enough
towels to keep up with himself in the cleanest army in the
world, and every extra towel he can obtain is one less he
has to wash while the laundry has half of his stuff each
week—and likewise everybody knows that the removal of
each towel was in itself only a thoughtless act, but when
multiplied by all such thoughtless acts by men on the same
train, it became a blow to the war effort.
While it’s still fresh on your mind, let’s get out that
Pullman towel now and TURN IT IN TO THE SUPPLY
SERGEANT or to the ORDERLY ROOM.
Thursday, April 13, 1944
PROMOTIONS
COMPANY A
Tee 5 William A. Dockendorf
to Tec 4
Tee 5 Joseph H Hudson to Tee
4
Tec 5 Carl J. Verde to Tee 4
Tec 5 Joseph E Waggoner to
Tec 4
Cpl. William S. Carson, Jr
Tec 4
WAC DETACHMENT NO 1
Pfc. Mildred H. Laakso to Tec 5
Pfc. Helen P Smith to Tec 5
gently corrects our “mistakes"
for us so that '‘rotation of
droops" becomes rotation of
troops!
Next would be our neighbor
paper that we always entrust our
scoops to "FOR PUBLICATION
TUESDAY.” Bringing our own
Monday edition home with us
with our “exclusive scoop” prin
ted on page one we discover that
the neighbor paper has already
carried our story and (here’s
where the aspirin comes in)
WE SCOOPED OURSELVES IN
SOMEBODY ELSE’S PAPER!
Then you'd have to remove all
those modest Army men who
elude you for days with the gag
“I don't want publicity, there
ain’t no story about me.” Just
an hour before deadline they
corner you and say LISTEN
BUD, I AIN'T THE TALKIE
TYPE, BUT I WAS BORN IN
1899 AND IN 1902 I FOOLED
THE RECRUITING SERGEANT
AND IN 1940 I MADE PFC
and.
Last but not least you'd have
to remove the kink from an edi
tor’s mind which makes him tell
his secretary “This issue we’ll
take it easy—small, quiet issue."
He starts writing cool, aloof,
gentle stories. Then he hits an
idea and writes a hot, passionate,
disturbing paragraph Then he
calls up the finance department
and begs for an extra two pages
—just this one last final time!
Oh the general is absolutely
right! But he must feel sorriest
for us when he realizes that, as
somebody once said about some
body else and this hurts in the
confessing we like our illness!
