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PAGE TWO
Citizenship —
A Responsibility
(By Waldo Jones)
Citizenship in a democratic form of government
like ours entails certain responsibilities. The del
egates who represent us in our government are
either directly or indirectly chosen iby the citi
zenry of these United States. The policies of our
government are influenced to a great extent by the
pressure Congressmen’s constituents put on them.
On all vital issues the citizens should voice their
protest or support as the case may be.
The Constitution placed the final power of gov
ernment with the people. The only way to make
this power effective is for all of the people to ex
ercise the citizen’s common prerrogative of voting.
Voting is not only one’s responsibility, but it is his
privilege. It is a privilege for which our forefath
ers paid a high price.
Universal suffrage has not come abruptly and
without sacrifice. The women of America have
enjoyed the franchise but little more than two
decades. The Negro is still disfranchised in many
Southern states.
Georgia has recently extended suffrage to the
eighteen-year-old youth of her state. With the
state elections approaching it is expedient that all
of Georgia’s citizens who have come of age to
study and analyze the issues, and cast their votes
for the candidates whose policies are conducive
to responsible and progressive government. "The
price of liberty is eternal vigilance.”
LETS LEND A HELPING HAND
(By Lee Mundy)
In Europe today there are many starving and
homeless people. We as Americans cannot, by
any stretch' of the imagination, conceive of the
suffering and hardship these people are having to
endure.
Picture, if you can, a man whose face has the
look of one who has seen death. Through his
e\es his very soul pours out the hatred and the
sadness caused bv five years of war. He has
smelled the stench of battle and has lived through
the filth, the drudgery, the horrors of war.
He has watched men and women die and he has
been scared 1 But because he was scared, he was
not a coward. He has held his best friend in his
arms while the last breath of his friend’s short
life ebbed away.
His own wife and children he has helplessly
watched suffer and die, and the (bitterness within
his heart cries out against the world.
His home was destroyed by a bomb. He has
neither food nor means for providing himself with
food. The only clothing he possesses is the thread
bare suit he has on.
His shoulders are stoooed and he walks as
though the weight of centuries has been placed
upon his back.
When you have successfully pictured this man,
multiply your picture by 20 million people and
you will have some idea of conditions in Europe
of plenty? It means that it is our responsibility
today.
What does all this mean to us—to us in a nation
to relieve the sick, the hungry, and the homeless
in these European countries. It is just as much
our responsibility as if these people were our own
next door neighbor, or even a member of our own
family.
The world cannot be at peace while there is such
suffering going on. Thyse people must have re
lief. peacefully or otherwise. It is our social obli
gation to help them. They aided us during the
war, without their help, many more of our boys
would have been killed and our freedom and jus
tice would have been even more greatly endang
ered. Now w r e should help them in their time of
need.
From a selfish viewpoint our own future wel
fare is at stake. Disease does not require a pass
port to enter a country. Economically we are de
pendent upon Europe. She furnishes a ready
market for our goods, hut at the present time she
is unable to buy from us. Our political structure
is such that a disturbance in the governments of
European countries affects our own government.
Can we fail them? Can we afford to take the
risk necessary in not helping them? Of course
our answer is "No.” We must help them and we
will! It may mean eating darker bread or giving
up some small luxury, but if our future and the
entire world’s future depend upon it, we will do
it ungrudgingly.
Such organizations as the UNRRA have been
set up to facilitate the distribution of supplies to
Europe’s needy. When yau are asked by some re
lief agency to contribute something—whether it
be food, clothing, or money-—won't you give until
it hurts? Aren’t you willing to sacrifice some
thing so that these people might live?
Remember, it might have been your own little
brother or sister in need of someone else’s help.
The West Georgian
WEST GEORGIAN STAFF MEMBERS:
Eclitor-in-Chief Patricia McCready
Associate Editors Martha Wilson, Oliver Lindsey
Sports Editors Billie Cheney, Clarence Salmon
Circulation Manager ... Christine Eidson
Business Manager Jane Cole
Feature Editors Bobbie Stepp, Jo Garner
Faculty Advisor Miss Marie Campbell
REPORTERS: Margaret Martin, Parrie Rogers, Virginia Brooks,
Charlotte Pearson, Betty Jean Johnson, Barbara Bishop, Matilda
West, Ray Miller, Ottye Lee Mundy, Martha Brown, Marian Moon,
Edith Harrod, Waldo Jones, and Sherman Lindsay.
Published Monthly by the Students of West Georgia College,
Genola, Georgia. Printed by Frank T. Thomasson, Printers
and Publishers, Carrollton, Ga.
Member G. S. P. A.
Subscription Rate: Associated Gooe6iale Press
#I.OO Per Year
"BECAUSE GOD WAS NEAR’
EDITOR’S NOTE: The following article was writtend
by one of our West Georgia Veterans, Neal Windom, who
served in the armed forces in Europe.
It was stated on numerous occassions that adventure usually
happens when least expected. I am inclined to agree to a certain
extent. This brings to my mind an adventure experienced by a
gunner on a B-24 in the European Iheatre of operations.
The time was about the first of December and I was mailing
V-Mail Christmas cards, when for no apparent reason a feeling of
emptiness enveloped me and I made the remark to one of my new
members, "Sam, I have a funny feeling, as though I will not be here
when the folks at home receive these greetings.” He advised me
to take a walk and think of more pleasant things. As 1 dropped
the cards in the mail box, I also tried to drop from my mind the
thought which had occurred to me. Only the words inscribed up
on the small page remained in my mind: "A Yank In Italy Wishes
You a Pleasant and Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.”
On the morning of December 18th I w r as aw r akened at 3:30 with
the cheery words of the operations clerk, "Wake up, breakfast 4
o’clock, briefing at 4:301” "Gee, what a time of day to be fighting
a war, looks as though they would get enough during the day with
out having to get up in the middle of the night.”
With much effort I got up, dressed and went to breakfast. We
talked very little as we ate only to tease some members of other
crews, "It must be a milk run, since Rosquiski and Feldhauser are
flying today.” But they always had a reply. Everyone was huba
huba because we only had a few minutes until briefing-
I hurried to the briefing room which at one time had been a
large stable, but it served as our theatre, briefing and interrogation
room. Practicallv everyone was there when I arrived.
As the Chaplain came forward all the men removed their caps,
and the Chaplain repeated the prayer which had come to mean
very much to me. "Oh, God, Thou who hast created the heavens
and the earth, and hast made it possible for man to sustain himself
in flight through the air, we ask again thy blessings upon these men
as they go out to fly high into the sky. Grant them courage to do
a good job, protect them against the assaults of the enemy, and may
their faith be unfaltering in Thee, we ask it in the name of Him
who has given us power over all things of the earth; the Name of
Jesus Christ Our Lord.” „ J xl _
The Chaplain left the room, and the intelligence oflicer called the roll and
said: “The target for today is the ‘X’ oil refinery”. We began squirming in our
chairs because the reception which was usually given at this place was not de
sirable! I had been to this target on two occasions and was batting a mere .500,
since I had been forced down on a small island in the Asiatic Sea —I gueSs I must
have borrowed the woi ds of Beulah —“Lady Luck let your light shine on me”.
We had the customary procedure as to the positions we would be flying in rela
tion to both the group and the wing. Upon completion of briefing, we went to
the flight line in trucks. Each crew member checked his own individual equip
ment and made necessary adjustments if any were required. At six o’clock, the
planes began to take their positions in the taxi strip.
As our plane gained flying speed and ascended, I breathed a sigh of relief,
because we had a big load on the old crate that day. As we flew around the sur
rounding territory in order for the planes in our group to assemble into posi
tions, we were able to see other groups assembling in their respective areas. The
objects on the ground lost much of their distinctiveness as we gained altitude
and as the group commander headed the lead plane out over the Asiatic “on course
il was difficult to see any sign of life aboard the ships anchored off shore.
As we approached the target area the ground was becoming obscured by
clouds separating us from the ground. It was a beautiful picture painted by the
Master Artist; the beautiful sky above and the fleecy white clouds beneath; and
man made machines winging their way through this setting to spill death and
destruction upon the enemy.
The tail gunner broke the silence “Tail to top turret, over” “Top turret to
tail go ahead”, “Do you see the four planes in the distance at nine o’clock high?’’
“Yes, I think they are P-51’s. They were to join us at 10:40. I’ll keep an eye
on them however, Roger”. These four friendly fighters were followed by other
groups of four until they formed an umbrella of protection. What a wonder
ful sight!
As we neared the target we began to put on our flak suits and we really
treasured every piece of it that day. Out in front I could see the planes flying
through the black and red smoke and it brought to mind the twenty-third
Psalm, I must have repeated it again, '‘Though I walk through the valley of the
shadow of death’.
W’e were now in the bomb-run and the planes opened the bomb bay doors
and dispersed in order to form a larger bomb hits area and prevent severe tur
bulence in the air should a plane suddenly become enveloped in flames as a re
sult of a direct hit in the bomb bay or gas tank.
There was complete silence on the interphone as we came in on our run
* “Bombs away” yelled tlv' bombadier, “Let’s get the heck out of here!” But the
number one engine was sputtering and quit as the oil system had been hit and
the engine froze for lack of lubrication. What’s this!! Number three is on fire!!
The pilot asks the Navigator for our position. We were supposed to be bomb-
THE WEST GEORGIAN
Spotlight
Martha Katherine Wilson
Associate Editor, West Georgian; Choir; Mu
Zeta Alpha; Press Forum; Democratic Youlh So
ciety; May Court; 4-H Club; Adamson House Coun
cil.
On February 1, 1927, Mr. W. B. Wilson wore one
of the biggest smiles that had been seen in Menlo,
Georgia, in about a decade. He passed around
cigars, lie laughed over things that other people
wou'dn't laugh at if > ou tickled ’em with a feath
er, he stumb’ed over chairs and things—and all
because his first descendant, Miss Martha Kath
erine Wilson, had taken her first look at this old
world on that day.
Since then lots of things have happened to "Mat”,
most of them good. She was blessed with two
brothers and a sister, "Sonny”, June, and Harold.
She entered Model School, in Shannon, Georgia,
and struggled on through to graduate in 1944. She
has spent most of her life in Rome.
She likes so many things that it would be im
possible to mention them all here. Those taking
ton billing are; choir, dancing, swimming, room
mates, strawberry short-cake, tennis, and good
music.
Her "Dream Man” is—well we all know the
answer to that, so let’s continue.
Among her dislikes are asparagus and people
that say "I told you so”. These rank first and
second respectively.
"Mat”, with brown hair worn in soft bangs, and
Mediterranean blue eyes that will let you know
when she is angry, ’cause they can fairly shoot
sparks sometimes—" Mat”, with one of the sweet
est smiles that ever graced W.G.C’s. campus, and
a stream-lined figure that would make the old
town clock in London, who has seen a lot in his
time, skin a beat —"Mat”, who is always glad to
Rf'ln vou in any way she can, is just the opposite
of a "sunnv weather” friend —This is the "Mat”
Wilson that West Georgia students all know and
love and that is the way we’ll remember her,
when we recall our crazy, happy, wonderful
school "daze” at "West”.
From the bottom of our hearts, Martha, we want
to wish you—" Best of luck on your flight into the
future and Happy Landings!”
Betty Jane Daniell
Vi -e President. Alpha Psi; President, 8.T.U.;
Second Vice President, 8.5. U.; Secretary, Adam
son Hall; 500 Club; Democratic Youth Society.
Our tall, neat, easy-going little sophomore,
whom West Georgia has affectionately mck-nam
ed "B ,L”. was born in Rome, Georgia, December
3, 1926. She crashed Rome with a "big bang”, and
also West Rome Grammar School. After this she
attended Girl’s High, and graduated in 1944 with
flying colors, as honor graduate.
Then with another "big bang” she crashed W.
G.C. We must admit that West Georgia would
rover have been the same without her. Here, she
is continuing her Home Economics Course. She
can sew "a fine seam”, and she can cook like no
bod' ’s business. Some nice-looking lad is going
to be a luckv guy- I say nice-looking, because
fh?s ’? ore of the ouaHfications that he must have.
"B. .1.” also requests that he be a "six-footer” with
black hair, and blue eyes. Above all, she insists
that he be a Christian.
When Mr. and Mrs. F. M. Daniell were blessed
with a darling baby, the world was blessed with a
dreamer. Yes, our studious (by the way, she has
made the Dean’s list her five quarters at West
Georgia) brunette has dreams of studying art un
der Lamar Dodd at the University of Georgia,
where she is going after graduating from \N est
Georgia. However, her greatest ambition is to
have a medium sized home, decorated with hei
own hands. This, plus that ideal man, will be a
"dream home.”
Betty Jane’s greatest dislike is for people who
do not speak when it is obvious that they should.
She also detests liver.
Among her likes are potato salad, West Georgia,
the song "The Rosary”, technicolor movies with
beautiful music and colorful costuming, her room
mate, dormitory rooms and the magazine, "Seven
teen”. Her favorite stars are Ingrid Bergman and
Gary Cooper.
I have called you a "dreamer”, 8.J., and a
dreamer you are, and if West Georgia knows you.
she also knows that you are the girl to make those
dreams come true. Y r ou may leave West Georgia,
but there will always remain behind you some
thing of your sweet and gentle grace.
You deserve a golden and happy life, and ma>
it always be so!
ing near the Russian lines. “I’m not sure just where "f aT
said the navigator.
We abandoned our positions to prepare for bailing nu
We were losing altitude fast. As the altimeter dropp< and
heart rose—l stood looking through the open bomb ba> "•
my parachute clutched tightly. There were the white cl<> •
beneath and the blue sky above. I jumped! to fall I k*-‘
not where; It mattered not “Because God was Near .
TUESDAY, MAY 21, 1946