RALLY 'ROUND THE ROSTRUM, LADS 'N' LASSIES-
While The Drizzler turns on the drizzlets from all over the world, bringing
you news 'n' views from your buddies stationed at their posts throughout
the universe. So lis'en closely and we'll give you nuggets of news from
such distant lands as Italy, North Africa, Scotland, England, Wales, Iceland,
the Hawaiian Islands, New Caledonia, and other far-away countries.
That comments appearing in parenthesis throughout the Drizzle are the
personal observations of The Drizzler. However, many of the nicknames clothed
in parenthesis in a number of the letters reproduced in The Drizzle are
the brain children of the individual letter writers.
Because The Drizzler's going to kick off clear across the goal line with a literary gem from that frisky, frivolous favorite of fickle females, Lieut. Whitey Hill. Incidentally, Whitey was in Monticello recently on a furlough from Fort Benning and he was looking even better than the proverbial million dollars. Unless a new order has come through in the meantime, the former Monticello high school athletic director and character builder has been assigned to Fort Benning as an instructor for the coming year. Apparently the war department was reluctant to send Whitey overseas for fear that news of his transfer abroad would be accompanied by a frightful collapse of feminine morale all along the home front. That's just The Drizzler's guess, but it sounds logical, doesn't it? I thought you'd all agree. Well, Whitey's ready to step to The Drizzle microphone so let's all lis'en to what he has to say:
"Dear Drizzle: Seems I skipped getting in my nickel's worth last month, but I was so doggone busy that I just couldn't find the time. (Who'd'ya think you're kidding, Whitey?) I wonder how much wool I'm pulling over whose eyes? Unless I get worked too hard, I promise to make an effort to pay the subscription price each month. (That's the spirit, ol' boy. All the rest of you lads, please note.)
"I thought Carl ("I-can-figure") Dick would start practicing on a bicycle before long. It still irritates him when he thinks of that trip we took into Door county and down the shore of Lake Michigan and all he did was eat my dust and all I did was wait for him and even tow him at times. Those were little things that weren't told before because he threatened me with violence, but now that he's way over there in Wales, I'm safe.
"Wasn't there a lawyer from New Glarus living in Monticello just a few years back? Let's see, Voegeli by name, I believe. Whatever happened to him? Seems I never see any of his moronic expressions lighting up the Drizzle? (Be patient, Whitey, be patient. At long last, P. Emil has stirred from his literary slumber as you will note from his letter later on in the Drizzle.)
"So Booby still has the professors fooled at Yale. Boy, he really must turn it on or, of course, if his instructors are women, the answer is obvious. At least we're both in the ASTP except that I'm practically in the woods on the edge of camp. The officers have little hutments to call home and a fifty-yard walk to get a shower and shave. I thought the life of an officer was one of luxury-sad day when the truth dawned on me. The food, however, is excellent.
"I wonder how much work Capt. ("I-wear-short-pants") Youngreen really does? Seems to me he is always on the move from one place to another-no doubt being chased for throwing verbal insults thought up by some poor medico who has to endure his commands. My one regret is that all those gals-blondes, brunettes, etc.-that I'm supposed to be entrenched behind are imaginary and not real. Now, two good South Sea Islanders like Youngreen and Tony Wyss could surely come to my rescue and solve my problem of getting from the imaginary to the real. Man, if that isn't down Tony's alley!
(Whitey's last paragraph is in answer to "Doc" Youngreen's nimble poke at him in the Feb. issue of The Drizzle, to wit: "I have been in constant conference with my staff working out our strategy and plan of attack. My immediate objective is a certain Hill which we have designated as Whitey, or the Lover of the Louisiana Lagoons. My intelligence reports that the objective is well-entrenched behind a formidable array of blondes, brunettes, and what have you.") Whitey speaks again:
"A word of warning to you men returning to Monticello on furlough: don't let these card sharks talk you into a friendly little party and card game because if you do, you'll be putting the touch on the folks for train fare back to camp. I couldn't even make four jacks stand up playing against Jim Dooley, Doc Horne, and Mac Knobel. No wonder they give you the royal welcome! (If you're angling for some sympathy, Whitey, you're not going to get very much of it from The Drizzler because you should'uv known better. Haven't you heard by this time that Jim and Doc and Mac form one of the cleverest and cagiest card combination this old town has seen in a long time. They're really a trio of smoothies. This is only my guess, of course, but I imagine Doc lulled you off-guard with a flow of soothing talk about " the good old days" and right at those very moments, Jim and Mac were most likely pulling aces out of their shirt sleeves and trouser cuffs and probably even out of their hair with a sleight-of-hand magic that would'uv made old Houdini himself furious with envy.)
"In spite of the fleecing, I really enjoyed being back in the old town
as the treatment is A-1 plus. Time's up. Whitey."
Lieut. Leon H. Babler, navigator on a Flying Fortress and recently
awarded the air medal and oak leaf cluster for action in flights over enemy
territory, now has nearly 25 missions to his credit. That Leon has participated
in some thrill-jammed sky battles is clearly indicated by the fact that
in a recent large-scale bombing raid over Germany, three members of his
crew were badly wounded. Their Flying Fortress received some damaging blows
from enemy fire in this particular air battle, and on their way back to
England, they decided to land at a Royal Air Force Field rather than try
to make their home base. Leon's older brother, Art, is still enrolled
in the radio school at the United States Coast Guard Station in Atlantic
City, N. J., while his younger brother, Carl, is in ASTP training
in the U.W. at Madison. For the information of "old-timers" who receive
the Drizzle, I might add the three Babler boys are sons of Mrs. Florence
and the late H. O. (Terry) Babler. . . Corp. Clarence Blumer,
who is stationed on the Island of Kauai, also called the Garden Island
and which is situated in the Hawaiian Islands, rounds out three years of
service in the armed forces this month, a distinction which is shared by
Sgt. Melvin Marty and Emil Weigert, both now in England.
For excitement on the Garden Island, Corp. Blumer says he goes to shows
and does a lot of swimming. "This place isn't as nice as it is painted,"
he writes, "And as for women, I'll take those back in the good old U.S.A."
. . An interesting program marking the commissioning of the U. S. S. Richard
P. Leary, to which he has been assigned, has been received by the Drizzler
from "Nate" Burgy, Monroe, formerly of the Green County highway
police patrol. . . Up in Alaska, where Sgt. Clarence (Bab) Babler
is stationed, malted milks cost 40 cents and ice cream $1.25 a quart. Say,
Bab, isn't it about time we're having a letter from you? I'm sure that
whatever you have to say will be devoured with much interest, not only
by myself and other Drizzle readers, but also by your famous old side-kick,
that gay and garrulous gentleman of Chicago and Villa Park-"Slim" Freitag,
who reads The Drizzle regularly. I'm right, "ain't" I, Slim? . . Lieut.
"Howie" Steinmann of the United States Marines completed his 30-day
course in mess management at Fort George Mead on Feb. 29. The Fort is 12
miles south of Baltimore. That same day Howie and his wife left by auto
via the southern route-a distance of about 3,000 miles-for Camp Pendleton,
Calif., which is half way between San Diego and Los Angeles where the lieutenant
was to report for duty yesterday. If time permitted, Howie and Gladys
hoped to branch into Mexico for a day or two enroute to Camp Pendleton
which is situated at Oceanside, Calif. . . Pvt. Morgan Phillips,
who for several months was stationed at Camp Hood (Texas) with the 603rd
Tank Destroyer Battalion, has been transferred to Camp Maxey which is up
in the northeast corner of Texas, only a few miles from the Oklahoma line.
Says Morgan: "This is not nearly as nice a camp as Hood. They burn coal
here and I haven't smelled coal smoke for seven months. It's really bad.
But the water here is a lot better. Thought I'd let you know my new address
so The Drizzle wouldn't have to look me up." . . From Somewhere in the
Pacific comes word from Pfc. Hilmer Gordon that he has just received
his first Drizzle. "I think it is a great paper. Keep it coming." Continuing,
Hilmer says, "Since I left Monticello, many strange things have happened
and I have seen many unbelievable sight. I will soon have in two years
of service overseas, but it doesn't seem that long. When a person is kept
busy, time goes very fast. These islands are not what they're cracked up
to be. I haven't seen any of the beautiful scenery the books tell about.
Nothing like good old Wisconsin."
FROM THE PEN-'N'-PENCIL FRONT-
From Lieut. (jg) Wally Barlow, who was still instructing air
cadets at the naval air base at Hutchinson (Kans.) at the time he wrote
his letter: "Dear Roz: I guess I owe you for a couple of issues of The
Drizzle so rather than risk having my subscription cancelled, I'll write
to you. As usual my letter will be pretty dull because of the continual
similarity in my duties here, nothing exciting-no bombing raids or thrilling
missions to tell you about. Just the same thing every day except some days
our fledgling pilots come closer to getting you than others. I did get
a bit of a thrill today when a cadet I was checking put us into the start
of a spin at 600 feet and later fell out of a slip at about 30 feet and
came in half on a wing before we could straighten out again. We have been
getting all kinds of scuttlebutt, Navy rumors, about the base here at Hutchinson
being closed in favor of officers and men in bombers transitional training.
We haven't had definite confirmation of this yet but it does seem quite
authentic. If that does go through, I don't know where I'll go from here-probably
to the fleet because I've had over a year's shore duty now, but they may
keep us in primary training for a while yet. Haven't heard much about the
Wisconsin basketball team this year. I hope the fellows have been doing
a good job. Sure wish we could get home to see a game. I guess that's it
for now. My regards to all the fellows. Wallie Barlow." (Say, Wallie,
have you any inside information on "Bo" Woelffer's current heart
ailment? No, it isn't a physiological condition. It's that disease they
call love. I understand she's a California cutie. And what's the latest
you have on King Kissling of Yale? "Boob" may be leaving there some
of these days and can't you just imagine the heavy pall of grief that'll
hang like a thick fog over Yale's sorority row when he does?) . . Well,
now just look what we have here-if it isn't a letter from the ol' King
himself. But notice, Wallie, and the rest of you fellows how shrewdly "Boob"
evades all mention of his romantic activities. He has some other interesting
things to tell about so let's lis'en: "Dear Roz: Thanks a lot for the recommendation.
I passed the physical and mental Tuesday, but Wednesday an order came out
stopping all enlistments in the air corps for the fellows in the service.
It seems all the A.S.T.P. students in the U.S. were trying to get in, and
since about 90% of them were passing, they closed it up. Darnit! I guess
its back to the infantry for me. The fellows that were shipped out of here
last December are in Italy already. Boy, it didn't take them guys long.
Our college team won the basketball championship and then we played the
air corps Lieutenants for the Red Cross fund. They beat us 59 to 56. Kessler,
the old Purdue star, made 37 points for them. Boy, was he stinky! Everyone
on our team took turns guarding him, but no one could stop him. It'll probably
be quite a while before I get home again, Roz, so be sure and keep that
Drizzle coming. Be good. Boob." . . While we're on the subject of basketball,
let's switch The Drizzle microphone over to Dauntless Dick Schoonover
and have him tell us about the cage court capers of Carl (Babs) Babler,
who used to team up with Boob at the guard positions for the M.H.S. before
moving to the capital city to become a star performer at Madison West.
O.K., Dick, we're all ready: "Dear Roz: As usual, the last Drizzle was
enjoyable to the last word. Even my room-mates, who don't know any of the
fellows mentioned, get a big kick out of reading it. I noticed that Boobie
(Chubby) Kissling played in the final championship game at Yale. Thought
you might be interested in hearing about his old teammate, Carl "Speedy"
Babler. It seems that when Babs company organized its BB team, Carl
was told he couldn't make the grade-too short. This sort of roiled Carl
so he organized a team of his own, a team No. 2, just for the fun of it.
Well, to make a long story short Team No. 2 beat every outfit in the league,
including the elite Team No. 1 twice and then ended up playing exhibition
games against "All-Star" challengers, among them a highly touted officers
team-which all the G.I.'s enjoyed immensely. All this time Carl was averaging
over 10 points a game besides being the big gun on defense! In the championship
game, which offered some swell gold medals to the winners, Carl's quintet
again came out on top. In fact, they ran all over the best opposition the
other sections could offer-which all goes to prove you can't judge a good
old Green County athlete by his height! I don't doubt but that Boob proved
that point out on the Yale front, too. Incidentally, the team I played
on didn't roll up a record like that, but we had a helluva lot of fun,
anyway. Right now, I'm hopefully waiting for traveling orders to the east
coast, but don't let that hold up my Drizzle. You can always use the Green
County jail as my forwarding address! Thanks a lot and good luck. Pfc.
Dick Schoonover." (Dick leaves shortly for Fort Monmouth, N. J., which
is the main signal corps camp in the United States. He expects to be stationed
there for four months.)
LET'S HAVE ANOTHER RAMBLE AT RANDOM-
Lieut. Ray (Burn-'Em-Up) Burns, for the past several months in
training with the 336th Bomb Group at Lake Charles, La., expects
to be sent overseas any day now. Ray, who is a bombardier-navigator-"bombagator"
for short-on a Flying Fortress, was at Pearl Harbor when the Sneakanese
unloaded their treachery on Dec. 7, 1941. . . Some time ago Barney Karlen
sent a copy of The Drizzle to Pvt. Art Zweifel, New Glarus boy (Nick's
youngest son), who is with the United States Marines in New Caledonia.
In acknowledgement, Art has this to say: "Received the Drizzle and found
it to be one of the most interesting and amusing bits of news I have ever
seen. If it's possible, I'd appreciate the next copy of it." We'll see
that you receive The Drizzle regularly from now on, Art. Most of you fellows
undoubtedly remember this enterprising young New Glarus gentleman. For
two years he was catcher for Barney's Bearcats, the local baseball team
which terrorized southern Wisconsin baseball circles with its spectacular
performances. Incidentally, Art recently met up in New Caledonia with Dr.
Palmer Kundert, a former New Glarus boy, who before joining the armed
services was practicing medicine in Florida where he had been located for
several years. . . Lieut. John Steinmann and wife and twins, John and
Jorene, are still residing at 163 Yale Drive, Cameron Valley, Alexandria,
Va. John drives 12 miles each morning with four other officers to Fort
Belvoir, Va., where he is supervisor of one of the drafting rooms in the
engineering school. . . From England comes a letter from Pvt. Emil Weigert,
Co. D, 1st Bn., 8th Inf.: "Hello Roz: Here is my
first letter from across the waves to you. The country is nice around here
and in peace time, a fellow would probably have a good time, but everything
is rationed. We get plenty to eat, but the beer is no good-no kick to it
at all. I haven't had a smell of whiskey since I got here. I get plenty
to smoke, but no matches to light them with. Otherwise I get plenty of
everything I need. We don't get much candy, but that doesn't bother me.
Well, I hope we soon get a chance to finish up this war over here for I
am sure getting dry of a good "shot" of Kessler's. I hope by next Christmas
I am having one in Monticello. I see by the Drizzle that I am not alone
over here. Hope I meet up with some of the boys. Here is good luck to all
of you. As ever, Emil." (Here's hoping that you and all the rest of the
boys will be back home by next Christmas, Emil.) . . Sgt. Erv Spring,
the former power-politician and political prognosticator of the public
relations department of Bill Blum's Merchandise Mart, drops us a
few lines from the Aleutians where he and that other worthy representative
of Monticello, Sgt. Fritz Haldiman, form a deadly combination against
any would-be Jap invaders. Says the Honorable Erv, who owes much of his
success to the masterful tutelage he received from that genial gentleman
of the Merchandise Mart, Henry Jeremiah Elmer: "I never did get
the Jan. issue of the Drizzle and I sure missed it. At the present rate
of expansion, you'll be needing a larger staff. The Drizzle's one of the
very few newspapers that isn't plastered with advertisements, except, that
is, for Whitey Hill's want-ads for female telephone numbers and
social addresses. I notice quite a few of the boys have been sent overseas.
But none of them up this way. I don't know when we'll be getting back home
once again, but certainly hope it isn't too far off. Well, Roz, I hope
this finds you and your family all O.K. Give my regards to the old gang.
As ever, Erv." . . Sgt. John J. Theiler is still with the 35th
Finance Disbursing Section in North Africa. John belongs to that illustrious
M. H. S. era just before the 20's which produced such intellectual geniuses
as the Edwards twins-Ray and Roy-successful accountants and auditors
of Philadelphia; "Al" Blum, with the Securities & Exchange Commission
also in the Quaker City; Adam Albert Schuler, head of the Monticello
insurance monopoly, and James Fennimore Dooley, the local oil baron
and rancher. John is situated in one of North Africa's largest cities distinguished
mostly by its "dirtiness" and narrow streets and sidewalks which are usually
crowded with both vehicles and pedestrians. He says he had often read of
the peculiar smell in these foreign places and he knows what it's like
now because it is especially noticeable in this particular city.
STRAIGHT FROM THE STRATOSPHERE-
From Sgt. Wilbert A. Marty, tail gunner on a Flying Fortress based in England: "Dear Roz: Received The Drizzle today. Have been looking forward to it. Sure glad it contained Leon Babler's address. I've heard of his outfit and it shouldn't be too hard to locate him. (I understand, Wilbert, that you and Leon are stationed in the same general area. Am I right?)
"Evidently Leon can write more freely than I can. Some groups are not as strict as ours. No. of missions is out and we can't mention where we go on raids-even if large cities. It is just a group policy. I guess I can say Leon has a few more raids in than I have.
"Leon is right. There are plenty of thrills over here. He isn't beating his gums when he says these English girls are becoming "Yankeeized." (And what's this I hear about the ol' tail gunner, Wilbert? But The Drizzler'll go into that later.) I don't envy Leon his job at all. A navigator is about the busiest man on the ship.
"I don't think the fellows should jump too hard on Whitey (The O. C. S. Kid) Hill, idol of the females and mentor of so-called athletes, about him being a teacher. Now and then he threw a tough chemistry formula or physics problem merely as a bluff. He was strictly a character builder. At least so it said in fine print on a piece of paper pinned on his coat one day. It was after a certain basketball game, but that's beside the point.
"So Carl Dick is over here. Sure would like to see him. Glad to hear "Mel" (Wilbert's brother) made sergeant's rating. That was news to me as my letters from home don't seem to come through so fast.
"Plenty has happened over here to talk about after it is all over. There'll
probably be a lot more. All for now as it is getting late. As ever, Sgt.
Marty."
MORE NEWS FROM THE PEN-'N'-PENCIL FRONT-
From Somewhere in Italy come these welcome lines from Capt. Norman
Steussy, Milwaukee, who is well-known here because of his frequent
visits to the home of his grandfather, Otto H. Babler, the famous
local sports dopester and internationally known dog fancier: "Many thanks
for The Drizzle. I appreciate the news of the whereabouts of my many friends
and relatives. It doesn't look as though many of the local lads are in
Italy, but they aren't missing much I can tell you that. I don't know how
"Doc" Youngreen deserves such a break as to be in the Hawaiian Islands.
John Streiff, the Monticello grocery baron, doesn't seem to know
when he's well off. I'd like to be in the state of Texas or any other state
after what we've been through in the last year. Thanks again for the Drizzle.
Send some more if it's possible. Sincerely, Norman Steussy." (We've
added your name to our "circulation list," Norman, so you'll be getting
the Drizzle regularly from now on.) . . Lieut. Russ Howard writes
from Iceland: "Have received two copies of the Drizzle and have enjoyed
reading them a lot. In fact, just finished reading them for the fifth time.
I have traveled quite a lot and now I find myself on "The Rock." We have
long nights here and I do enjoy reading so keep The Drizzle coming, please.
Would it be possible for you to send me Erv Spring's address" (Here
it is, Russ: Sgt. Erwin Spring, 36237069, Co. B, 198th
Inf., APO 726, Seattle, Wash.) The capital of Iceland, Reykjavik, is a
pretty nice city of about 40,000 people. The girls here are very pretty
and nearly all blondes. They are rapidly learning English, but believe
me, Roz, it's funny to hear them say, "What's cookin'?" (I'll bet most
of 'em can say, "Bob" Blumer," can't they, Russ? You'll probably
recall that this rollicking Romeo from Monticello was in Iceland for many
months before moving on to Northern Ireland.) I guess I'll close this letter
now. Good luck. Sincerely, Russ." . . From Lt. "Bo" Woelffer, who
is both the pride and the pet of the nurses' staff at Ashburn General Hospital,
McKinney, Texas: "Tonight I am operating as O. D. while the mercury is
dropping faster than the law of gravity permits. The last time I was O.
D., I spent a little time admitting a corpse to the morgue. Right now there
are three on the seriously ill list so there's a possibility of doing some
business. What a spot for Frederick Voegeli. I just mention this
to somewhat neutralize that bit of gravey-train stuff that Whitey Hill
and Doc Youngreen think goes with the detail of drilling (close
order, of course) the army nurses here. (Just a minute there, Bo. In the
last Drizzle, I asked you for some inside information on that lovely little
thing that's been monopolizing your dreams so much lately. And what do
you do? Right off the bat, you switch me onto the morgue! What kind of
a run-around are you giving me?) This week a demonstration team from Ft.
Sam Houston showed our G. I. cooks and dieticians how to prepare dehydrated
foods. As assistant mess officer I sampled some of the scrambled eggs,
vegetables, and even a cake and found them to be delicious. When I go overseas,
I hope that the cooks will know how to prepare these groceries because
I have heard some poor reports about powdered eggs and milk-a bit stinky.
This concludes Asburn's bit in the war effort. Sincerely, Bo." . . Hold
onto your chairs, ladies and gentlemen, because here, after all these months,
is a letter from the "long-lost" lieutenant, now a captain-P. Emil Voegeli.
Writing from the British Isles, Paul says: "I have just finished reading
the January Drizzle and decided to write tonight instead of putting it
off "later in the week"-which in the past just never seemed to come. Letters
and The Messenger keep us informed on some things but you have been treating
us to news of a kind that we otherwise just don't get. Those items are
always most welcome. I notice by the Drizzle that at least five other fellows
from home are in the United Kingdom. I was especially interested in Carl
Dick's address as back in August I happened to be in the city near
which he is stationed, and had a day of "in between time" to spend there
as I wished. Carl mentioned fish, chips, and tea. That is a combination
I usually stay away from. I had some there, too. The chips were O.K., the
tea was as good as tea usually is, but the fish was bad-pre-war, I believe.
Sincerely, Paul." (Now that you've broken your silence, P. E., let's hear
from you more often. And how about a ringing, bristling rebuttal to the
many humorous quips that'uv been tossed your way. For instance, Doc Youngreen,
that wily warrior of the Southwest Pacific, calls you "the legal larcenist"
or "Who's-got-the-gavel?" Voegeli and even suggests that you may be wearing
Scotch kilts. We're awaitin' for a vigorous counter-attack.) . . From Sgt.
Melvin Marty, Co. A, 8th Inf., Somewhere in England: "Received
the Jan. Drizzle and it's tops. The Drizzle is a great morale booster-even
better over here than in the states. Well, Roz, I am somewhere in England.
I might be able to get in contact with Wilbert. (Surely hope you do, Mel.)
The other day Gen. Eisenhower was here to look us over. I didn't
get to see him because I was in charge of quarters. The fellows say he
is sure one swell fellow. Notice Sgt. Joe Legler is in England.
Have you got his address? (Here it is, Mel: 91st Sta. Comp.
Sq. (S. T.) Det. D. APO 635). This leaves me okay and keep The Drizzle
coming by all means. So long, Sgt. Mel Marty." . . From Staff
Sgt. "Cec" Wirth, USM, former oratorical oriole of M. H. S. and also
known as the boy "with-a-way-with-the-women," writing from "In the Field,
Somewhere in the Southwest Pacific": "Dear Roz: If there are many people
home on furlough whenever I get there, the way Monticello is represented
by commissions, most of my excess energy will be exhausted from saluting
half the male population. But you can let "Romeo" Hill know that if his
nose still wiggles when he thinks something is funny, he had better control
it when I give him a G.I. Leatherneck arm-bend. From the way it sounds,
the "Kiss King" has himself a firm hold on a good racket. Do you suppose
he would lend a poor, beat-up Marine one of those extra femmes he has chasing
him around the Yale campus? (Uh-uh, Cec, the King, like all other monarchs,
is funny that way.) Have to shove off. Duty calls. Just keep that Drizzle
coming. It's a booster, the like of which has yet to be seen. Sincerely,
Cec." . . From Ensign Ed Klassy, aboard the U.S.S. Williamson in
the Pacific: "Have seen many islands, historic spots, natives, etc.-some
not very interesting. Talked to a few of these natives and also shook hands
with a chief who has signed some sort of treaty with the U. S. and carries
a watch presented by the President. These natives aren't too dumb as they
sure have learned what the American dollar is for--$5 to $10 for a string
of shells or carving. Feeling fine. Best regards to all the fellows." .
. Cpl. P. A. Roth, Camp Edwards, Mass., writes: "In Boston over
week-end. Taking in wealth of historic sights. Plenty of them here. Waiting
for the Drizzle. More later." . . From Lt. "Ott" Blum, M. C., USNR,
in New Guinea: "Just read Jan. Drizzle. One of best yet. Especially interesting
were items about Slim Freitag, Al Lauridsen, the Blumer
Brothers. Glad Les gets some duty in the States now. Hope the Drizzle
continues to come until the krauts and monkeys are all washed up. Ott."
To these Drizzle donors: Mr. and Mrs. H. F. Stoll, Art Escher, Karl
Holsinger, Al Moritz, P. J. Aultman, Jacob Burgy, Mrs. John G. Blum, Mrs.
Alois Wyss, Al Knobel, W. J. Marty, Helen Roethlisberger, Joe Voegeli,
Adam Schuler, James Lobbs, W. A. Loveland, Pat Schoonover, Fran Kubly,
Fred Stauffer, John Dick, and Dr. H. J. Horne.
Carl J. Dick, the new Prince of Wales, is a sergeant now. . .
Ted Butler (Shirley Curtis' husband) leaves soon for overseas. Bud
Wirth shipped out Tuesday. . . P. F. Blumer's back at Chanute
Field after a furlough here. Wilbert Marty's now a Staff Sgt. S'long!