Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About Oregon daily emerald. (Eugene, Or.) 1920-2012 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 17, 1942)
Dean of Music
Shows up Jazz
P\ Theodore Kratt, dean of
the University of Oregon school
of music, spoke Wednesday be
fore the student body of Willam
ette university at Salem. His
topic was <i a. Practical Lesson in
‘‘First 1. played themes from
Various symphonies. Then I jazz
ed them to show that when ac
cents are misplaced, the themes
do not have the lasting qualities
of the originals,” remarked Dr.
D:', Kratt spoke at Willam
ette university as part of a sur
vey of the music school of the
institution, which he conducted
November 10 and 11. The sur
vey is being performed for the
commission on curricula for the
National Association of Schools
Male *Canteen *Lead
Landed by ExDuck
The bright-light mcguls of
Hollywood spoke and Bill Thienes
—screen name Bill Terry- -a for
me' Oregon student, jumped from
New York to the coast city
where he began work on the short
feature, “Private Smith. U.S.A."
It is currently playing at the
As a result of his performance
•in this, his first appearance be
fore the cameras, he was tested
ana selected to play the male
lead in RKO's “Stage Door Can
teen.” He is the father of a one
year-old boy which explains his
■ civilian status.
Tr.is War Gives ....
1» r < jESjUl
Margaret Chapman i
An Authentic Film ! !
Other Guy’s Lives
(Continued from page three)
all right . . . You guys, even the
crummiest of you, are all real
lives ... It makes a guy feel
kind of good hearin’ about them,
There was a moment of silence
as Leisen finished. The Texas boy
was deeply impressed, and he
‘‘Ah know licw you boys feel,
just about exactly.” He paused
and gulped. "Addin’ up every
thing, even this layin' around, ah
feels so cockeyed good about ev
er-thing. The more ah think about
it. the mere ah do.”
"Me too, Tex,” Phil said eag
erly, but sincerely. Vance joined
"And let’s keep track of one
another after this is over . . . ”
The harmonica was on “St. Louis
Blues,” and doing a fine job.
"Yeah, it’s a funny world,”
said Joe again, and with finality.
So they sat, filled with com
radeship, feeling like six Santa
Clauses. It was a funny world, but
a good one. Leisen, Alt, Joe, Phil,
Vince, and Tex. . . . From the
halls of Montezuma, to the shores
of Tripoli. . . .
OW quick a guy can jump
from plain everyday talk to
serious s,tuff, that makes you feel
sick and good at the same time.
Now, none cf them knew what
to say. It was most embarrass
“Got the Saint Looey Blues,
just as blue as I can be ... .
Cause that gal of mine’s got a
heart like a rock in the sea. .
“Say, do you guys hear some
thing?” Vince sat up.
“I don’t know . . . listen!” The
rest raised up and lived with
“. . . l'eelin’ tomorrow like I
feels today . . .
. . . I’ll pack my bags and
make . . . .”
The harmonica stopped: shouts
came from down the line.
Leisen jumped up onto the
sandbags. He looked down the
beach and then up into the sky.
“They’re cornin’ the whole
bunch of them. They're cornin' 1”
It looked like there were a
hundred of them, and still more
Officers were running, shout
ing. Gun muzzles popped out of
every place. Barebacked men
with stew kettle helmets were
moving like seventy-word-a-min
ute typists: juggling shells, belts
of bullets, boxes, all in the space
of a finger snap. Officers sprint
ed over the sand, barking, swear
ing, then eyes and barrels turned
The guns began jerking- two!
two!— two!— two!— Flame,
smoke; the ground jarring. All
up and down the beach, guns
coughed in a jumbled staccato;
barrels recoiling like tappits on
an off-time Chewy. The shells
went up, tapering, like Roman
The planes came closer, still in
formation. The first lot peeled
off, started from a whine, to a
howl, to a roar; right into the
fireworks. One by one they
Phil’s month twitched as he
looked at the horror coming down
on him. He got that thrilly feel
ing in the back of his neck, like
he got at a Dodger game once
when Pee Wee Reese knocked a
high fly into the stands and it
lit light by him.
“Look at ’em come," yowled
Vince, "There’s a million of cm!"
“I wonder if we’ve got any
"If we have they sure aint’
Everything seemed on fire,
even the sky itself. The planes
pulled out of their dives and then
followed the leader down along
the beach, ripping thp whole
works to pieces . . . The bombs,
the stink, the bullet shine ....
Art Reese looked at Leisen.
what do they expect us to do?
“'Keep firin’ this gun.”
‘‘But it doesn’t do any . . .”
A bomb blasted behind them.
Sand stung like a flock of lice
bites. Vince helped Joe up; both
of them were bleeding. Leisen no
ticed the brawny boy from Texas
halfway in the sand. Art Reese
‘‘What'll we do, Leisen?”
Vince wasn’t as dazed as Joe, who
stood shaking his head like a
fighter who has taken a chop on
‘‘Start snootin’ this gun again.
There’s still plenty of targets!”
Leisen’s face was hard and cruel.
"OK, Leisen," said Vince, "OK.”
The roar was terrific now. The
planes waggled above; relentless,
inhuman. More machine guns
and sand geysers.
Vince Quentin slid into a knee
chest position. Joe wheeled and
flopped into a wall of sandbags.
Corporal Leisen felt a pain in
his side. He hung onto the gun.
He felt like coughing.
Pretty soon, the smoke would
cover everything. His side felt
as though it were gripped hy a
steel hand. Sand was running out
of a bullet hole into a conical lit
tle dune cn Joe’s back. Leisen
thought of his wife making three
minute eggs. He couldn’t look at
the boys. . . . This had happened
so quick ... he hadn’t caught up
with himself yet. His mind was
as good as gone. He stumbled
back toward the trees, holding
his side. The smoke was dense,
and flame streaked.
* * *
ryvHEY swarmed off flat boats,
scurried bandy - legged
through the surf, and' up the
beach; trotting blandly, not car
ing where they stepped.
They didn’t know how Phil
used to put on the feed bag at
Casey’s joint with the horse shoe
crab specials; or about Tex and
his little brunette; or about Vince
pulling the strings with fifteen
girls and some fickle wife; or
about Joe and the girl from
Hackensack; or those good feel
ings that flew away when their
bodies cracked open.
Hike all enemies, they didn’t
know about other guys.
(Continued from page tivo)
local student body hit on the
same idea for a cute house dance
costume—on accounta because
there were certainly a great many
couples who showed up last
weekend with the guy decked out
in a natty yachting suit and with
the gal sporting a dainty “Junior
Goodnight World . . .
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cils, Rings, Compacts,
Bracelets, Locket Sets,
and many other Yuletide
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