The Capital Times of Madison, through its regular Saturday editorial
page feature, "Our Weekly Open Letters," recently
tossed this nice bouquet at The Drizzle: "To Roswell Richards (Dear Sir): We want to commend you for the launching and continued sprightly operation of "The Monticello Drizzle." If sprightly seems the wrong adjective for a publication named "The Drizzle," we are sorry, but we still think that your publication gives a lot of cheer to the boys who are away and will go a long
way in aiding them fight off that feeling of home sickness for the green and lovely hills and dales of their homes in Green County. We who have stood in those long lines of khaki in foreign climes when the mail man yelled "come and get it" don't need to be sold on the morale value of a letter or news from home, but if there is anyone who doubts the value of your enterprise just let them ask the next man who is home on furlough at Monticello."
THE DRIZZLE SALUTES:
Second Lieut. Ray Burns, first Monticello boy to see real action
in World War II and also the first to be cited for bravery by
his country. When the Burns family left Monticello about 14 years ago, Ray was only eleven years old, a modest, fun-loving little fellow with a slow, infectious smile-characteristics which still distinguish his personality. Since then he's kept coming back every now and then to visit his old pal, Carl Stauffer, now an army air corps staff sergeant down in Texas and expected home on a furlough almost any day now. Ray and Carl were always full of the dickens and on the search for excitement. They loved fun. And what did they call fun? Well, for instance, climbing up to the top of Stauffer's 54-foot silo and hanging by their feet from the top rung! It is this same brand of reckless courage that has made Ray and Carl such good soldiers. After enlisting together
Nov. 4, 1940, Ray was eventually sent to Pearl Harbor and Carl down into Texas. On the morning of Dec. 7, 1941, when the
Japs unloaded their treachery on Pearl Harbor, Ray was asleep in the quarters above his office in the elaborate $3,000,000 army barracks there. Awakened by the bursting of bombs, he thought at first that U. S. Naval units were engaged in practice gunnery across the bay. From his window, however, he could see Jap planes dropping their deadly cargoes on our battleships. Hurrying
into his clothes, he hustled downstairs to his office. By then bombs were exploding near the barracks. Hardly had he slid under
his desk only a few feet from the barracks' outer wall when a Jap bomb blew out the wall, fragments of rock and plaster flying
all over the office but fortunately missing him. When this wave of Jap bombers had gone over, Ray hustled out onto the field. An army lieutenant had taken off in a plane in pursuit of the Japs, but his ship crashed, shot down by another wave of enemy planes. Ray and some of his buddies rushed to the stricken lieutenant, dragged him from his plane, and hauled him to safety while Jap pilots circled low overhead, firing their machine guns at them. A few of the rescuers were wounded, but not Ray. "I guess they couldn't hit me because I'm so small," he says. One of the lieutenant's legs was severed at the hip and he begged his buddies to end his misery. Medical science saved his life, however. Ray is modest and evasive about his citation for bravery, but his friends believe it must be associated with the rescue of the army pilot. The former Monticello boy left Pearl Harbor Dec. 28, '42, went directly to the big aviation training center at Santa Ana, Cal., where he again met the maimed pilot, by this time aided by an artificial limb. In memory of his rescue at Pearl Harbor, he gave Ray a silk shirt with the lieutenant's name inscribed on it. After three months at Santa Ana, where he frequently met Leon Babler, another former local boy then stationed there, Ray was sent to the Roswell (N. M.) Air Base, winning his wings as a bombardier-navigator in July. He was here recently for a brief visit at
the Stauffer home, then left for Sparta to spend a few days with relatives before leaving for Lakeland, Fla., where he was due Sept. 11. By this time he has probably been assigned to a permanent bomber crew. And after Ray and the various members of
the bombing team have been well co-ordinated in their many important assignments, they will leave for foreign duty to help blast the Allies to Overwhelming Victory.
DRIZZLE DISCUSSION DEPARTMENT-
Wherein The Drizzler devotes special comment to certain sections of
certain subscriber's letters and to anything else he happens to think about:
From Sgt. Wilbert A. Marty, tail gunner on a Flying Fortress and
now in final training at Rapid City (S. D.) Air Base before leaving for
"The Big Stuff": "The other day we were up 20,000 feet and our waist gunner
passed out because his oxygen supply got low. Our pilot practically stood
that B-17 on its nose and in a matter of seconds we were at 8,000 feet.
We came down so fast, our co-pilot was grounded for two days because of
ear trouble. Quite a thrill being back in the tail and coming down like
that. I don't believe it is quite in the books to dive a B-17, but we did.
Incidentally, that tail gun is really the spot, Roz. I wouldn't trade it
for any other position on the plane. You really can see around." . Well,
Wilbert, that really must have been
some thrill, alright, stuck way up there in the tail with the ol' Flying Fort whizzling earthward nose first. I'll bet "Pat" Schoonover, Green County's J. Edgar Hoover, and E. Kissling, Sr., the former local bakery baron will agree with me when I say it would have been worth a crisp five-spot to have watched L. A. Voegeli, the Monticello Motor Magnate, or W. Ernest Blum, the grocery and dry goods king, had they been in that hot tail spot when the pilot stood the B-17 right on its snoot. Whenever either L. A. or W. Ernest get up on a stepladder, I have a hunch they think they're up in the stratosphere because they like it by far the best when their feet are planted solidly on good old mother earth. . . From Whitey Hill, frequently known as "The Sparta Spoofer" and believed to be "The Reason" for the large increase in the number of broken feminine hearts in the
Camp Polk (La.) area: "Thank heavens for the maneuvers ending. Our last two problems were river crossings-by wading. When we crossed, the water reached our chins and naturally all of our equipment got wet. I ruined my watch and my disposition for the day. That same day I was captured while on patrol and went through the questioning process undergone by all prisoners. I played to the limit and gave nothing but name, rank, and serial number. Being caught some times has its consequences. For instance, one of our platoon sergeants was relieved of his rank because he was captured with a notebook full of information. After the problem, the enemy intelligence sent over a map made from his notebook and it was exactly like our tactical map. In warfare we would have been dead pigeons so I'm thankful that it happened in maneuvers and not in combat. We're still in the woods outside Camp Polk-what did I do to deserve it?" . . Ah, Whitey, (I'm chortling a little bit fiendishly now) what didn't you do to deserve it! Well, you must remember those many mornings when you used to waft blithely into the post office lobby just at those very moments when I was buried in work (yes, I said Work!-W-O-R-K!!) Ah, but that made no difference to you. Not a bit. You just simply let loose with those vicious vocal chords of yours and you'd croon and croon and croon-sweetly-something like a crow. And don't
you remember, too, how you met my urgent pleas to please cease-at once!-with a devilish gleam in your eyes as you bellowed even more lustily and ever more horrendously. So what else was there for me to do? In desperation, I finally appealed to the war department. Revenge has been slow, but it has been sure. And Oh! How Sweet!-When Arthur W. (Slug) Babler, the Madison insurance broker and capitalist, was recently inducted into the armed services, he was told he could have his preference-the army or the navy. "I'll take the army," said Slug. And Sluggo! They stuck Slug right in the navy, proving once more that Missouri mules aren't the only creatures that can be downright contrary. And now "Art" has finally wound up in the coast guard down in Brooklyn, N. Y., and he's very happy about the whole thing. In fact, he thinks he's had a swell break-which would probably break the heart of the guy that crossed up "Art" in the first place by sticking him in the navy. . Pvt. Alvin Schmidt, sniper in the Marines, recently completed two months of intensive jungle training in Australia and may be seeing real action now. Some months ago before he left the states, "Schmitty," who will be remembered as one of Monticello high's athletic starlets of recent years, was hospitalized in California for a month due to an injured knee received when he ran smack into a parked trailer during a football game. The fact that "Schmitty" ran into a trailer makes The Drizzler wonder if he probably wasn't using a rather weird variation
of the athletic strategy made famous by his two old coaches, those great master minds of the high school coaching profession-Whitey Hill and H. Adolphus Becker. The Hill-Becker brand of generalship is known as "The Trail Strategy." In other words: Always Trail the other team.
YOU MAY HAVE WONDERED:
Why rationing is necessary on the home front. If you have, just listen to what Lt. (jg) Rufus Freitag, M. H. S. '24, Naval Supply Depot, Bayonne, N. J., writes to J. W. Barlow and you'll know why: "We have everything here from landing boats for commandos down to pins, needles, and candy bars. Virtual mountains of meat, potatoes, canned goods, etc. This depot supplies navy ships and loads supply ships for foreign bases. One ship that went out 10 days ago took, among many items, 10 tons of dry yeast. It also took over 800,000 lbs. of frozen boneless beef. Items on another supply ship: 1,167,500 lbs. of potatoes, 310,000 lbs. of chicken, and 184,300 dozen eggs. When one realizes the depot here is just one of many similar activities, it is easy to see where all our meat, butter, and other produce is going."
RAMBLING AT RANDOM-
Sgt. Clarence (Bab) Babler, with a medical platoon in the Alaska
area, recently accompanied wounded soldiers-apparently air transport flight
to Seattle, Wash., where he enjoyed a three-days leave before flying back.
It doesn't seem so long ago, but it was way back in the 1920s when "Bab"
and his old side-kick, "Slim" Freitag, invaded Chicago where their
coming is said to have created quite a bit of heart fluttering among the
debutantes of the Windy City's social set. . Pvt. Robert E. (Zoom)
Blumer, the former Main Street wit and philosopher, has been transferred
from Iceland to England. Shortly after his arrival in the British Isles,
Bob spent a 48-hour leave in London, had a big time, too. . Lieut. Fritz
Steinmann has been promoted to officer in charge of the payroll branch,
civilian personnel, at the Chicago Quartermasters' depot. As such, Fritz
has to sign all payrolls and all correspondence in his branch which embraces
32 employees. . Eddie (The Machine Gunner) Zweifel expects to get
home within the next week or two on a furlough from Fort Jackson, S. C.
. Harry Schuerch, stationed at the (2 words of text indecipherable),
is here now. Harry's chauffeur for an army captain. . Leo Felts,
former local youth, is believed to be in Cuba where he is a pharmacist's
mate at the USMC base. . Tommy Brusveen's been transferred to Camp
Pickett, Va. . C. J. (Jake the Jolter) Dick left last night on his
return to Camp Beale (Calif.) after a week at home. Although still in the
army, C. J. retains his heavy holdings of common-or is it highly preferred?-stock
in the Haddinger-Dick Trucking Corporation. The president of this vast,
far-flung transportation monopoly is, of course, none other than Sir Walter
Haddinger, famed locally as a sportsman, capitalist, feminine heart
throb, and teller of taller tales. . Betty Jane Woelffer expects
to be inducted into the services as an army nurse within a few weeks. Betty
will have a second lieutenant's rating and expects to receive her preliminary
training at Camp Ellis, near Macomb, Ill. . S/Sgt. LaVerne Sauer's
still at Harlingen, Tex. Up 'till recently he had been taking a dip in
the Gulf of Mexico, only 30 miles from camp, every now and then. . Corp.
Warren Murphy is glad to get all the news about the boys and is enjoying
his work at Camp Barkeley, Tex. He sends his regards to everyone, including,
of course, his old boss, J. Pierpont Lobbs, president of the local
Bank of Greece. . Wally Barlow offers this nice suggestion: To set
up a typewriter pad in a few local business places with a sign something
like this on it: "This letter to be sent to (name of soldier) somewhere
in (wherever he is). Why don't you write him a note, too?" Says Wally:
"I know this would make the fellows mighty happy because getting a note
from 50 people, in one letter, that wouldn't have otherwise been written
would make them realize just that much more how and what they are fighting
for." Here's hoping this swell plan of yours'll be in operation soon, Wally.
. S/Sgt. Don Willis, Camp Clairborne, La.: "Guess the maneuvers
Sgt. Hill "enjoyed" so much were too tough for me. Have been in
the hospital for six weeks with a few more to go. This camp and hospital
are sure pains in the neck after Camp Swift and Ft. Sam Houston, especially
Ft. Sam." . Lieut. O. S. Blum, USN, has received his summons to
foreign duty, probably will be located at
a Pacific air base caring for flying personnel. The Blums have purchased a small home in Miami, Fla., where Elsie and Grant will reside during "Ot's" absence. . Later word from Whitey Hill says he's now a staff sergeant and'll be here on furlough Oct. 4-14. Swell! . Pvt. Armin Loeffel, Camp Baird, Redding, Calif., is guarding railroads and he's itching to be transferred for overseas duty. Armin wants to get in on the real fireworks. . Major "Les" Weissmiller, stationed near South America, hopes to get a month's leave this fall. Les is a rabid Badger football fan and how he'd "hate" it if he'd land in Madison right in the midst of the
grid season. . Sgt. Joe Legler, Daniel Field, Augusta, Ga., is still drilling new men. "Riding herd on the drivers and vehicles" as
he puts it. "Two-Gun," as Joe is called by that renowned local surgeon, "Doc" Kubly, "Would like to get out of this damp, sticky heat. The sweat is just rolling off of me as I sit here." . "Boob" Kissling's still at Clemson College, Clemson, S. C. There are rumors he's to be among the next group of transfers, slated for Yale University at New Haven, Conn., but nothing definite. Boob also has hopes of a furlough before his transfer-wherever he goes!. . This information should answer the question of Lieut.
"Bo" Woelffer, who writes from McKinney, Tex., asking how the "Boobleberger" or "King" (meaning Prof. Kissling, of course) is making out? The lieutenant also adds: "This may interest Monticello's Ernie Pyle. We have a patient here-Capt. John Kimbrough, who is a brother of Texas A & M's highly touted "Big John" of about '41 vintage. From what I have seen in pictures, they can easily be identified as brothers." . Pfc.Howie Steinmann's been transferred from Parris Island to the Marine Base at Quantico, Va. Howie says: "I am now in O. C. S. Unless I'm washed out (as are about 40%), I should receive my commission on Nov. 3rd. It is really a stiff course-eight weeks of hard work and very little liberty. It will be worth it if I get through, however. Mail "The Drizzle" to my new address. Looking forward to its arrival."
MORE FROM THE PEN-'N'-PENCIL FRONT-
From Lieut. Leon Babler, 316 Bomber Sq., Walla Walla, Wash.:
"Received my first "Drizzle" yesterday. Can honestly say it is the most
enjoyable piece of "literature" I've read since being in the army. My opinion
on it? Nothing better! Just what the boys have been waiting for. We have
been having more trouble with the dust out here than anything else. At
Ephrata we had a dust storm that really blew the top off of everything.
You know, one of those kind that sneaks up silently behind you and slaps
you gently on the neck with a handful of rocks. I actually had two inches
of solid dust under my blankets. And then the local chamber of commerce
had the nerve to come out with the following quotation: "Yesterday there
occurred locally a change of atmospheric conditions whereby the air became
impregnated with some of the finest particles of top soil in the world"
(That's really handing
out the old blarney, all right, isn't it, Leon?) I expect to leave here next week and will probably participate in navigational flights
all over the country aboard a Flying Fortress. We fly 7 to 8 hour missions about five days a week. The missions are mostly for
the benefit of the bombardiers and bombs are dropped on every flight." . From Lieut. Harris (Hoppe) Babler, stationed in the Alaska area: "Thanks so much for including me among the subscribers to "The Drizzle." I am very much pleased with it. Still doing air transportation work and enjoy it a lot. Through my job I have seen a goodly part of this territory from the air. Have gotten in quite a little time as unofficial co-pilot and would like nothing better than to be able to do all by myself. On one of my trips I got to see Fritz (Haldiman) and Erv (Spring). That was back in May and since they have moved, I haven't seen them. The time I went down, I took along a small supply of "tornado juice" and we had a good meeting. I've always tried to keep them supplied as well as possible with "special service supplies" as I had or have access to transportation. They are on a good spot and getting along O. K. I might get back to the states on leave before March or April."
WHAT A TRIP!-
Wilbert Marty'll never forget the time he had getting back to
camp after his recent furlough. He left here on a Saturday, due in camp
at Rapid City midnight Sunday. At Madison he found he had been misinformed
about train departures. All trains had gone. Wilbert tried to get a plane
at Truax Field. No luck. It was mid-afternoon. What to do? He suddenly
thought of Louie Wuilleumier, Madison aviator and former Monticelloan.
"Loopin' Lou" flew Wilbert to Mason City, Ia., leaving Madison at 5 p.
m. Circling over Mason City around 7, they couldn't find the airport, had
to land in a farmer's field because they were running
low on gas. Lou flew back to Madison while Wilbert boarded a train for Rapid City at 4:30 Sunday morning, had to ride most of the long tiring trip on his baggage, but he made camp safely at 11:30 that night, 30 minutes ahead of time!
MY THANKS AND YOURS, TOO!-
To Ruth Karlson for cutting the mimeograph stencils for this
"Drizzle;" to Marion Hoesly, Betty Lewis, and Delma Roethlisberger
for addressing the envelopes, and to "Those Three Musketeers"-Buddy
Achtemeier, Diz Zimmerman, and Sunny Lynn-for running the edition
off on Rev. Achtemeier's mimeographing machine. "The Drizzler" hopes to
keep this "staff." In the meantime, fellows, here's some more bushels of
good luck. Keep your chins up, and come the fall rains in the month of
October, The Drizzle'll be Drizzlin' again.