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Show WUhe Colors Roy F. Cottrell has handed The News the following meaningful poem taken from Our Navy, and sent Mr. and Mrs. Cottrell by their son, Ross G. Cottrell, seaman, second class, with amphibious forces in the Pacific: MAIL CALL By G. H. Kerns There are sad things seen on these islands green But the saddest, 111 venture to say, Is the anguished' trace on a shipmate's ship-mate's face When he's told "ThereV-no letter today. Now, I've seen them lie while waiting wait-ing to die, Yet gladness their faces expressed, With a letter torn and badly worn Like a jewel to their heart was presed. Oh, folks back there, we know you care, And you'd stake your lot for us all, But the greatest joy you can bring your boy Is his name at the old "Mail Call." It's the same old sight from morn 'til night, And the same routine and such That gets a guy, though he'd gladly glad-ly die 'Fore he gave an inch, or as much. But your mail from home takes our minds to roam From the worries and cares of war, And makes it seem like a pleasant dream And brings us home once more. We're doing fine on the firing line, With your bullets, and tanks, and guns But the blast that'll shell all the Axis to Hell Are the letters from you to your sons. Andrew Holmes, one of six sons of Mrs. John Holmes, who have been in army and navy service, returned re-turned home Wednesday after being given an honorable discharge dis-charge from the army air forces. Mrs. Holmes, a widow for many years and with no other children than the six boys, suffered a long period of illness a few months ago and it was deemed best that one of the boys be released to help care for her, though she is one of the most uncomplaining of women. Andrew, former local garage mechanic, me-chanic, was in training with a fighter squadron at Selfridge field, Michigan when released. From Dr. R. R. Shannon, now Captain Cap-tain with Medical Corps Hawaiian Islands, Mar. 27, 1945. 0. F. Hub-bell, Milford, Utah. Dear O. F. H.: I have intended writing you for a long time, and especially to thank you for that kind letter at Christmas time. As you can see, I : no longer have underfoot the good old soil of the U. S. A. So much has transpired. Kath-ry.n Kath-ry.n brought the girls back to their grandmother's (in Lndiana) before Christmas and I got a 12-day I leave, and spent Christmas at , home the first time since 1926. We had a big tree, and it snowed 1 j Christmas eve, so Santa Claus ! could make it all right. It was very enjoyable, but I had to leave by I plane for Los Angeles and Camp i Cooke, California, then to Fort Lawton at Seattle, and we sailed j from there. We have been living in tents and Uiking training that is rough, to say the least, but I've been doing some special work and study in neu-j ro-surgery and am a member of a! surgical team, a good assignment; but 'twill be far from all that I care about. i Yes, there are beautiful flow- ! (Continued on last pare) I With theColors (Continued from page 1) I ers when you can find them; bul ; this island is mountainous as the : Beaver range, and, from what I've 1 seen of towns, they are dirty, wit! narrow streets; and all the store; i charge excessive prices for the simplest things. In spite of the ! hibiscus, poinsiannas and poin-: poin-: settias, I'll trade all for a short I ton of U. S. mud or soil! Well, a lot of water has run un der the bridge since we used tc meet in the Hubbell Drug. As 1 1 look back, that was a time of higl 1 ambition and anticipation, a tim( ' of early responsibility, and, I be- lieve, some of the most pleasant oi 1 all memories I have of Milford ; Give my friends my best re-I re-I gards. ! Your old pal, SHANNON 1 j |