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Show K ' THE BULLETIN. BINGHAM CANYON, UTAH S3- - See Here, m Private Hargrove! vWm bg Marion Hargrove ..w. Vt C7i U name of military hardship have you got here?" I asked him. "All this place needs Is a couple of Morris chairs and a sign reading, 'What is home without a mother?' " "Beginning to look nice, ain't it?" he said. "Just a few minor Im-provements here and there. Know where I can pick up a small upright piano at a good price?" I looked over the room again and my eye fell on the resplendent for-est scene. "Where'd you get this canvas knickknack? It's an original, isn't it?" "It ain't nothing else but." he said. "Painted by a friend of mine up in Columbus. Guy knocks them off like that in about twenty minutes. How do you like it?" Aside from the fact that the water-fall is a little frothy and the moun-tain looks like something from a mentholatum advertisement, itwould do credit to any mess sergeant's room in the whole Replacement Center." "You didn't notice this," he said, lifting himself lazily from the bunk. From the table he took an ordinary-lookin- g beer can with an extra lid on it. "John Bull Beer." he said. "Can't buy it anywhere except in my fam-ily's restaurant in Ohio and Penn-sylvania." He lifted the top lid, revealing a businesslike cigarette lighter. I took the can, struck the flint and a roaring blaze leaped at me. It burned merrily away. "Not bad, huh? Good advertising scheme." "It should come in handy," I told him, "anytime the furnace goes blah. That little conflagration would heat a whole barracks in three min-utes flat." He twisted the dial of his radio and a high-pitche- d feminine wail bounced off the far wall. "I've been listening to the opera most of the afternoon The Magic Flute." "What happened to the magic ski-llet?" I asked. "How come you're lying around here instead of bustling about your kitchen tickling the pal- - fOBY SO FAR: Private Martin former feature editor of a rolina newspaper, has keen In-to the army and has completed jorUon of his basic tralnlnf at If. Classified as a cook and tf of extra KP duty beeause ef at times to rasp some of the ttals of army life, be has be-lts familiar with the Company He has learned the finer points trickine" and has mastered the of army slang. As we pick p f here, Hargrove Is listening driver in a nearby town expand ormer army career. Hargrove (and rightly so) that the truth Is etched. The bus driver speaks: CHAPTER XIII 11 he said, hemming and a little, 'three stripes means 1 a plain buck sergeant. Six is a master sergeant. I'm a sergeant. That's two grades a buck sergeant and one elow a master sergeant I'm lg to be a master sergeant onth or so. That's as high can get.' In't say anything for a while; t there looking like I was t soak in. Then I asked him, lm-lik- e and ignorant 'How stripes does a private first sver lelp me, he looked like he ing to choke for a while. 9 came back with a snappy in flash. IV he said, 'first-clas- s pri-ar- e one stripe, just like us sergeants, only their stripe from eurs. Their point down.' , sir, I thought I'd die. I popped trying to keep from g, but I kept a straight face. :, said, 'Things sure have 1 since I was in the Army. ien, three or four years ago, sergeants were just plain rgeants and first-clas- s pri-er- e the only one-strip- e men.' ah,' he said, sort of weak-m- e changes a lot of things. ; was all he had to say. He sbrt of foolish and pulled the get off at the next stop, here was another bull ses-o- t to hell. Maybe it was best, though. I didn't have a against a fellow with that alent" -- - out of cigarettes this after-a- r my old cooks' battery, so tit I'd drop in on First who smokes the irand that I do. Sergeant ith Is the old type of top ser-wit- h a heart of GI shoe and a voice that would put itest bugle to shame, it gods and little paychecks," d. "Look what's loose againl the latest, little man, er eporters supposed to know?" only news I've heard today," im, helping myself to a cof-- , from his desk, "is that .sending all the first ser-in the Replacement Center ma for hard-labo- r service de-it-s. Polish your brass and ;ht make acting corporal 's over." it'i lovely to run into an old eant who can't put you on police when you sass back at re a sweet little lad, Har-b- e purred. "We really do I saw him, he was working out plans to feed you on Buncombe County turnip greens or pay you to eat at the Service Club." "Oh. that." he said. "I've saved so much on cigarettes since you left the battery that I could afford to eat uptown now if I wanted to. And let's leave any remarks about Bun-combe County out of this. And let's leave your feet out of my waste-baske- t" From now on I must deny myself one of the fundamental rights and joys of mankind. I must quit bum-ming matches from those near and dear to me that is, if I want them to remain near and dear to me. Whenever I ask anyone around Cen-ter Headquarters even Mulvehill or Bishop or Bushemi for a match, I get one of two answers, both of which are getting very tiresome by now. I hear either "What's the mat-ter? Has your fire gone out?" or "Just light your cigarette on one of our conflagrations; there should be a small arson in yonder corner." Since I am a patient and g child, I make no scathing remarks in return for these Jaded witticisms. I merely shrug my frail shoulders pathetically and seek greener pastures. It isn't so bad, their refusing the match. The worst part of it is the reminder of an in-cident which might well be forgot-ten. The incident is of no conse-quence, but it might as well come off my chest. Being a slave to the despoiler of human health and well-bein- the cigarette, I still have a fondness for an occasional switch to a pipe. I don't especially enjoy the taste of pipe tobacco, and I don't believe even the most avid pipe smoker especially cares for it. Most of them like me, merely like the feel of a pipe in their mouths and the dignity and solemnity a pipe gives them when they punctuate their conversa-tions by jabbing the air with it. Smoking a pipe only occasionally, I still have not become overly pro-ficient at keeping the little things burning. When I buy a can of to-bacco, I buy a five-ce- box of country matches with it Half my smoke is tobacco: the other half is Georgia pine smoke from the match-stick- s. I was busy today typing out a story, and I had lit my pipe for about the twenty-secon- d time. I threw the match into the wastebasket and for-got all about the whole thing. I was absorbed in my work. I noticed by degrees that our of-fice was becoming lighter and warmer. I noted the fact with a rich feeling of comfort, but no great interest in finding out the cause. It wasn't until I reached for another match to light that pipe again that I noticed my wastebasket. The thing had in it a cheerful little blaze bright enough to take action photo-graphs on a moonless night. There was nothing to get excited about I told the remainder of the public relations staff, the sergeant major's corps of assistants, and the filing department I nonchalantly put my foot into the basket and started stamping out the fire. The thing would have worked, too, ex-cept that the length of my foot was greater than the diameter of the wastebasket The foot stuck and I could not stamp. Corporal Sager, of Plans and Training, leaped to the rescue, pried the foot from the basket, grabbed the basket and sped away to the water cooler. I followed him and poured myself a cup of water. I still saw no cause for excitement To the bystanders' catcalls, un-seemly laughter, and accusations of arson, I turned a fatherly ear and a quieting voice. I explained patient-ly that setting fire to wastebaskets was an ancient and honored pastime in the newspaper world. I told them that one of the best newspaper men North Carolina has ever seen "Un-cle John" Dickson, former city edi-tor of the News used to set his wasteb?sket on fire at least twice a week by tossing cigarettes or burn-ing matches into it. It was a mark of certain industry, a sign that a man was wrapped up in his work. -R- a- Maury Sher, my old buddy when we were together in the student cooks' battery, had been on an ex-tended furlough. Before he returned, I had left on a three-da- y pass for Charlotte. We had not got together for two or three weeks, so I went over to his battery to look him up. The battery street was almost empty; the mess-hal- l door was locked. The mess sergeant was no-where to be seen. Finally I found a soldier who had seen Sergeant Sher in his room, so I looked for him there. The sergeant lay on his lazy back on a stilted bunk in his cadre room, reading Dorothy Parker. The win-dows of the room had been equipped with flimsy green curtains, and par-tially deflated holiday balloons flut-tered against them. On the wall above the bed hung a small oil painting of a forest with an icy white mountain in the background. A writing table bad been installed and on a shelf in over his bunk were a reading lamp, a small radio, and a neat array of books. j I stood there surveying the place j for a while. "What in the sweet ' i "Have yeu any last words before I pass KP on you?" the sergeant asked. ates of the men with your culinary delights, as they say in the Army cooks' manual?" "No supper tonight," he explained airily. "We're just changingcycles and there ain't nobody here but the noncommissioned officers, like my-self. I told them to go and eat next door. "This is the life, little man." He yawned. "Nothing to do, nothing to worry about. Just lie around, read and listen to the opera. Sans souci, as we French say without care." The first sergeant looked over his glasses with a rather unpleasant gleam in his eyes. He glanced sig-nificantly at the top of my head, so I removed my cap. The first ser-geant adjusted himself in nil chair and cleared his throat "Private Hargrove," he began slowly and deliberately, "the govern-ment of the United States, to whom no task seems impossible, has tack-led the job of pulling you a little of the way out of your abysmal ignor-ance. With complete faith that heav-en will help them in this job, they have begun a series of lectures about why you are being trained to fight, whom you are being trained to fight, and all the other little things you should know." "Yes, sir," I said hesitantly, run-ning my finger around the inside of my collar. "You mean the radio lectures on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons." "From four until four-thirty- ," the first sergeant said. "The entire pop-ulation has been invited by Upstairs to gather in the mess halls to hear and discuss these lectures. Yester day afternoon you weren't on hand. Have you any last words before 1 pass KP on to you?" "It's a rather long story, ser-geant" I began. "Here we go again," sighed the sergeant "Have a chair and begin breaking my heart It wiD make you feel better to have that off your chest before you go to the kitchen." "Sergeant" I asked him,' "were you ever editor of a high-scho-newspaper?" "Is this long story about me or you?" the sergeant asked. "Please continue with your story." "Well, sir," I continued, "only a high-scho- editor could know the pain that is in my heart Only Im could sympathize with me. I have gone back to my old job I had years ago. I am again a true high-scho-editor. I am editor of the Replace-ment Center section of the Fort Bragg Post" "Meeting such a dignitary is one of the greatest occasions of my life," the first sergeant said dryly. (TO BE CONTINUED) isket had in it a cheerful llt--s bright enough to take ac-- otograpbs on a moonless iii l here. When you were here, had to worry about where I ing to get another man ere was a stovepipe to be or a street to be swept Now to go and search around mind you for v someone :en a bad little boy. Never t trouble when you were i. !ant" I told him, propping on his wastebasket "you iss the water until it's gone e bridge. This battery owes me. Look cut there at that owing in front of the orderly rhat grass wouldn't be there less be that green if I pent time and labor sprin-wit- h fertilizer. And think :h f.leaner the windows were vas here to wash every one every week. I'll bet you bad a clean floor in the bat-r- e I laid down my mop." I sergeant Ooton making i his grocery budget?" I 'Trying to feed you on cents a day? The last time riiievery by Nazi Troops Amounts to 36 Billions In the Invaded countries, the Nazis have taken over, chiefly for their own private profit or pleas-ure, property valued at more than $36,000,000,000, according to a re-re- nt official estimate. Nearly $2,000,000,000 of it repre-sents movable works of art, such as oil paintings, sculptures, tapes-tries and altarpieccs, that they have stolen feloniously and re-moved to Germany from family collections as well as from mu-seums, galleries and cathedrals. For rrlltf fram Ihe tortura ef simple Pilea, PAZO elntmanl hae bren famous far mora Iha thirty year Ilcrs'a whr: r'lral, PAZU aintmanl aoolhra Inflamed arraa, rellevea pain and itrhlnf. Hvcond, PAO smlmenl lubriratre hardened, dried parte helpa prevent crarktnf and aorsneaa. Third. PAZO ointment lend to reduce aarelllnf and ehark bleedrnf. Fourth, ll'a eaiy to aae. PAZU oinl. menl'a perforated Pile Pipe makea ample. thorough. Your doctor ran teH res about PAZO ointment. About Chest 8is! Grandma Was Right 5inie i.t.8tarts t0 2 ways at once J and kt.-p- s on working for hours to Time HaS PrOVed It relieve coughing spasms ai.d conges-tion in the cold-clogg- upper breath-Toda- y, the first choice and family ing passages, to ease muscular soreness standby lor relieving miseries of colds or tightness. It invites restful sleep, in millions of homes is the same home-- And often by morning most of the remedy grandma used . . . Vicks misery of the cold is gone 1 Try it. VapoRub I What better recommenda- - tion could a product have! Approved l fl fl When you rub time-teste- d VapoRub By Two W U a W Cats on tlie tluuat, dicst and back at bed-- CenerstionsV VAPORUO CAMELS ARE PACKED TO STAY FRESH EVERYWHERE 4eJj ' - Because Camels are the number one cigarette with , " m"swv'i men in all the services, they're following our men to i'ix: Svxi it every continent, on every ocean. Happily Camels are ..'&. packed to stay fresh, cool smoking, and slow burn t. , :: v ing anywhere, any time. The Camel pack keeps your ' i Camels fresh, too sealing in that famous extra flavor i 4- and extra mildness. Tor a fresh treat, try CamcL r FfRSTW THE SERWCE With men in the Army, Navy, f " Morln Corps, and Coast Guard, "Jf th favorite) cigarette) Is Carnal. " ..." (Based on actual solos records.) t ;' '''. Send Your Scrap to the Salvage Pile . BROWN ACTS f .- - - 0LDAy r aWfcga&Sai " "" "" It '" im'W i i itS''1iaViaiaiiaiiiiiiofjl)irioiiiiihi SMSflRET0f3E NaturaHy a man looks old beyond his years when he's sore from him SOOf tlBS TQST With bago or other muscle pains. The famous McKesson Laboratories urn am amm Tm II P II developed Soretone Liniment for uULU llCnl those cruel pains due to exposure, strain, fatigue or Get B flTIAII the blessed relief of Soretone's III I I II El cold heat action- ;- IlUIIUliB 2. Quickly Soretone aett to en-- hance local circulation. jfl mu q 2. Check muscular erampu II MUSCULAR LUMBAGO 3. ilelp reduce local swelling. QR BACKACHE 4. Dilate turfact capillary blood ste to tatlaoe ar axattura Tl'' MUSCULAR PAINS ? , methyl saliryl stoetewMs ate, a most effective g agent There's only one Soretone Ji SORE MUSCLES insist on it for Soretone results. 5V ewrwrt 50. A big bottle, only $1. A p..;.,,.;, v blfe MINOR SPRAINS Uk:-- li. ii -- L firient tmrradimu In 8or- - li. tl tona art like heat la Inrreasa feh - ji ' Wi tuperttcttl luppty of "and McKesson makes il" --"5 1iniwnMinai!StB? WW WE HOLD no grudge tgalnst the set up for such young-er entries as Col. Matt Winn. 82, Connie Mack, 81, Lonnie Stagg. 81, or Col. Ed Bradley. 83. They have all had more than their share of the headlines for over 60 years. But we'd lik to make another nomination that even tops this list when it comes to the matter of cele-sratin- g another New Year. His name is Arlie Latham, now 84 years old, and looking somewhere in the early 60s. Arlle is now a guardian of the press box in New Vork. But there was a time some 60-o-years ago when he Grantland Rice was a star infielder tor tlie St. Louis Browns in the rrazy days of Chris von der Abe. ni it was the irrepressible Ariie nho contributed his full share to the Incipient lunacy of old Chris, one of the rarest characters baseball ever knew. Arlle Latham came to the Browns around 1880. He was an able in-fielder, a good clutch hitter, base-ball's top clown and also an in-spiring entry. Arlie was one of the smartest men that ever played baseball, in any league or at any time. He had a keen, quick wit that dominated any situation where repartee might figure. From the Browns Latham came to Cincinnati's Reds in company with such famous old timers as Long John Riley, Bid McPhee, Tommy Corcoran, Tip O'Ncil, Elton Cham-berlai- Tony Mullane, Jim Keenan, Jim Duryea, Billy Earl, Billy Rhines, Germany Smith and others. This old Red team was one of the most colorful casts that base-ball has ever known. They were a rather rough and rowdy bunch, in many respects, but they could play baseball and Arlie was then one of the best. Looking Back I first ran across Arlie Latham after he had finished his playing career. This was back in Atlanta in 1903 when Latham was a Southern league umpire. He was something more than an umpire. He was a riot. His quick wit and his sarcastic comeback were much too fast for the ballplayers of 1903 and for that it would have been the same for the ballplayers of 1943. Arlie came south as umpire at the time the north was sending us uch veterans as Gus Weyhing, The-odore Breitenstein, Red Ehret, Amos Rusie, King Bailey and a few others who had been pitching 70 or 80 fames a year before the fading soupbone needed a touch ef south-ern sun. The best of the crop that came from the north In those days was Theodore Breitenstein, the "$10,000 beauty," a mighty sum in any sale in those days. "Breit had a tragic baseball fin-ish," Arlie told me recently. "The most tragic finish baseball ever knew. He was getting on at the time around 40 or maybe 42. He came to the close of the ninth in-ning with two men out and a sure no-h- it game in sight. Nothing like a hit up to that spot. One man left. The one man left drove a low liner through the box that broke Breit's ankle, wrecked his no-h- it game and closed out his baseball career. "They were a grand bunch In those days," Arlie tells you. "Some of them were nuts but who isn't? One way or another. I can look back and see 'em now Bid McPhee Heiny Peitz, Red Ehret, Tony Mul-lane all the others. "In those days a pitcher who didn't work in 60 or 70 games, may-be more, must have lost both arms." Connie the Bat-Tipp- er "Do you remember Connie Mack?" I asked. "Connie was younger than I was," Arlie. said, "but I remember him. I'd call him the Bill Dickey of 60 years ago as a catcher, but he couldn't hit within a mile of Dickey. Connie was only a fair hitter. But he was the best bat-tippe- r I ever saw. The batter would be all set to swing at a fast one coming in and then miss the ball two feet and start a young war. Connie had tipped his bat with a g hand. His Idea was to win the ball game, any way he could, and the umpires were not so strict in those days. Connie was always smart "Don't forget those old timers could play a lot of baseball," Arlie said. "Baseball was their life. There were no motor cars in those days, no motion pictures, no radios. "There was nothing for them but baseball and not too much cash. Do you remember the time Larry Lajoie, then with the Phillies, batting .400, held out for $2,500? So did Ed Dele-hant- y, one of the greatest hitters I ever saw. Lajoie and Delehanty could hit for me." The main point Is that Arlle Lath-am at 84, a veteran who can look back over 60 years, even beyond the days ef Connie Mack and Mat! Winn and Lonnie Stagg, 30 years before Ty Cobb or Babe Ruth were ever known, is still hale, hearty and active. IPIAKING Released by Weitern Newspaper Union. HOW many people can name the champions of three of the eight boxing divisions recognized by the National Boxing association? It probably wouldn't be an exag-geration to say that a maximum of one in ten persons could name more than one champion Joe Louis, heavyweight titlist for the duration. More than 4,000 professional box-ers are In the services, suggesting that there was more real fighting out of the ring than In it during 1943. The Boxing Writers associa-tion (emphasized this fact in award ing its boxcr-of-the-ye- ar prize, the Eddie Noil Memorial trophy, to all the fist fighters in the services en masse. Four champions were In the serv-ice throughout the year Joe Louis, Ym .S Xi JOE LOUIS heavyweight; Gu3 Lesnevich, light heavy; Tony Zale, middleweight; and Red Cochrane, welterweight. A fifth, Willie Pep, went in after de-fending his featherweight title suc-cessfully. Boxing Not Dormant Despite the lack of manpower, boxing wasn't dormant during the year. With most of the titles frozen for the duration, there still was championship activity in two divi-sions lightweight and bantam-weightafter Pep joined the navy. Beau Jack, recognized as light-weight kingpin by New York and New Jersey at the beginning of the year, lost the crown in May to Bob Montgomery of Philadelphia. At that time Pennsylvania granted sim-ilar recognition to its home talent. Jack regained the title from Mont-gomery in November. As yet Penn-sylvania has not withdrawn recogni-tion despite the unquestioned heart-break. The lightweight title, however, was disputed by Sammy Angott, who had given it up In 1942 but came back in March and later was recog-nized aa champion by the National Boxing association after beating Lu-ther White in Los Angeles. Diminutive Manuel Ortiz, California-- born Mexican, was the busiest champion of the year, defending his bantamweight crown eight times, chiefly in his home state. The fly-weight title, only one not held by an American, was defended success-fully by Jackie Patterson in Eng-land. Upsets were far from infrequent during the past year as the form players will testify. Willie Pep's winning streak was halted abruptly by Angott in a non-titl- e bout. Ray Robinson, welterweight chief, won 41 straight and then was floored and outpointed by Jake in Detroit He reversed this setback before going into the army. Surprise Factor The LaMotta incident shared the surprise factor with Heavyweight Lee Savold's defeat by Eddie Blunt, reversed in two weeks with a one-roun- d knockout. Then, too, there was Bobby Ruffin's victory over Jack before the Beau regained his title. Jimmy Bivins, Cleveland Negro, was one of the toughest heavy-weights in action, beating every-thing in sight. Yet be was consid-ered lucky to win a hotly disputed decision over Lee Murray of South Norwalk, Conn. Murray was one of the year's best newcomers. Hammerin' Henry Armstrong, for-mer three-wa- y champion, complet-ed a successful financial comeback program, and had the good grace to retire after a rather deplorable showing against Ray Robinson. But even now there's a rumor that Hen-ry will try it again. There have been far too many short-sighte- d "Comebacks" in past years. Most has-bee- should be content to remain in that state for their own good, if not for the pub-lic's. Heavy Profits That there was a lot of fight left in the industry was proved by the fact that more fight clubs operated at a profit than ever before. Boxing thrived financially in many large and small cities throughout the country. Of 29 shows promoted by Mike Jacobs in Madison Square Garden, 13 drew $45,000 and up, 6 drew $70,000. The top gate was $104,976 for Jack vs. Armstrong. The Garden shows averaged $12,000 bet-ter than in 1942 |