At j Second Glance j j|||| !llllllllllllllllllll!lllll!lll!lll!lll!l!llll!lllllll!llllBI!lilllllllliillll!l»!l!ll!tllll!IIIIIIIIil (Continued from page two) ter taps whether or not a tree is there (or anywhere) if one can’t see it. As a rule, Notre Dame chosens are well-built specimens f manhood, although that glint their eyes didn’t come from burning matches. Columbia university men are the slowest-reacting of the en tire platoon. They like Esquire, Victor Hugo and blondes. They carry their "summa cum laudes” with them, even on the drill fields. Columbians like rum and cokes, although they can’t have either one here in bootcamps. But what hurts above all else is their revelation that Oregon is a county in California “near” the Pacific ocean. And then one can find individ uals in platoon 1107, too, that de serve mention, like Glenn Sides from Alabama who is six feet, Bix inches tall and had to secure special consideration to enlist. He's a Spittimage of Abe Lin «ln—except for the crew hair t . . . there’s the New Eng lander, George by name, who doesn’t think that liquid’ stock ing makeup is going to the dogs. Says he, “I’d say it’s going to the calves instead” ... A drill sergeant always threatens his “boots” with “I’m going to kick you so hard that we’ll both have to go to the hospital. I don’t know about you, but they’ll have to cut my foot out” . . . there are more brunettes than blonds among re cruits, although this soon changes after the Carolina sun shines on them for seven weeks . . . the most widely discussed topic at night is NOT women; instead, rifles. Honest! . . . Radios are en couraged in all barracks and the Sunday symphonic programs are as eagerly listened to as the more «pular programs . . . There are tually no Smiths or Jones in platoon 1107. Instead, such names as Krawiec, Krovatch, Ostroue, Jahn, and Caruso . . . Haircuts, which remove every hair below the timberline are only 25 cents . . . and most important of all—• to many—is the fact that there is adequate hot water for nightly showers. But most striking of all is the nonchalant use of English among sergeants, such as that’s all they are to it,” “We is all getting a haircut,” and “What is doing, lad?” However, mistakes as they may be, grammatically speaking, they only enhance the glowing aura around the sergeant, and to many, God threw away the pattern after he made sergeants fnr the marine corps. They’re the ^Pruits’ best friend—actually and sincerely. If a Buddy (Continued from page tii'o) nel with the 14th armored divi sion on New Year's day. Sta tioned at Camp Chaffee, Arkan sas, he was called into active duty in December, 1941. Prior to this, Hammersley was superin tendent of city schools at Tilla mook. Another promotion was that of Raymond C. Houghton, '40, who was promoted from a first lieu tenant to a captain in the army. •ptain Houghton is operations icer at the army base at Greenville, S. C. George L. Evans, ’43, gradu ated from Gulf Coast training center early in January and was commissioned a second lieutenant in the army air forces. He com pleted his pre-flight training at Santa Ana and his primary in struction at Fort Stockton, Tex as. Sarah E. Ray, '41,#has been ac cepted by the WAVES and will begin her training in February at Smith college, Northampton, Mass. A former resident of Eu gene, she has been working at Bloomingdale’s department store in New York City after receiv ing her master’s degree in mer chandising at New York univer sity. Kobert C. Boyd, ’42, has been commissioned a second lieuten ant upon graduation from the ma rine corps officers candidate school at Quantico, Virginia. Lt. Boyd is still at Quantico base enrolled in a three months' course in advanced military tactics and strategy'. His wife, the former Marie Walker, ’43, makes her home at Dayton. Harold L. Armstrong, ’41, who is stationed at Cochran field in Macon, Georgia, was recently promoted to the rank of staff sergeant. Sergeant George G. Fegg, ’41, of Eugene, was one of 113 men who were graduated recently from an officers’ candidate course in the southwest Pacific area and commissioned second lieutenants. The 113 lieutenants had all been drawn from the ranks of the en listed men and were the first graduates from this school “some where in Australia.” Are University Students Tops? (Continued from pane two) able to do so simply because their families do not require their earn ings for subsistence. “Three out of every four high school students who graduate in the. top ten per cent scholastical ly never get to college, mainly be cause of financial reasons." Who’s Superior? Well, to whom are college stu dents superior? And, how? Don't ask these questions unless you’re locked up in your room and like to talk to yourself. But here’s a suggestion. If you want to make life more interesting, and even more educational, dedioate ore day to an observation of signs of superiority. Then ask “What dif ference will it make twenty-five years from now?” It should make a difference, you know. Just keeping your eyes open will be worth the fun, but there are a few more questions which can be asked. Does breathing the oft-used air of University classrooms, and treading the harmless paths of a beautiful campus lend to supe riority ? Book Learning Do correct manners, social charms, and rounded personali tics bring superiority? Do four years of book learning, an exposure to culture, plus a sprinkling of activities constitute superiority? Does actual qualification for lucrative employment after grad uation mean the appearance of a superior individual? Of course, there are lots of petty and even embarrassing questions that could also be asked about the activities and intentions of University students. Yet, if any questions are to be asked at all, it may be just as well to determine what the cri terion of a superior person is, how they become so superior, whether they use their superior ity merely for their own selfish advantage (if they use it), what obligations accompany the pos session of superiority, what dif ference it makes, and who's to judge this undenied attribute of college students. Scene at Random (Continued from page tioo) age. At least that is what one boy at the University of Califor nia discovered. Standing on the sleeping porch he saw a rabbit in the yard below. He picked up a milk bottle, took aim and scored a direct hit, as a result he en joyed rabbit for dinner while his fraternity brothers eyed him en viously. —The Daily Californian I Cover the Campus milt'd iron: pn<;c two) of Eugene lately. On almost ev ery double-bill these days you : an find such tid-bids as ' THE M OM MY WALKS," "The Revenge of the Beast,” "The Monster’s Bc turn” . . . What the purpose, of these marrow-narrowing cine matic tid-bits is, we cannot fath om. Trouble is, they become slightly amusin' after you've y< on the first fifty . . , It's the breaks of the game, however. . . . All that big publicity abort J. Wesley Sullivan didn't phase eg. Shucks we knew him when he wrote the “Derby Lit.es" column, for the Young Oregonian section of that Portland sheet. . . . Happy ending dept.: Mass Jeanne Smith, prexy the {bri des, just recovering from a. brok en ankle sustained while falling off the bleachers at a basketball game, received a letter in the mail the other day with twenty-live bucks enclosed. As matters turned out, however, the dough and 'ot ter belonged to dorm-man Gene Smith, who was very glad to see Jeanne when she turned over ihe loot to him . . . Poem for Floy Faul Nelson: Roses are red, violets are Line; If I had a. column like yours. I'd join the zoo. Russian colleges graduated 370.000 students in 39-52. Send a Real V AL E N T I N E Give an Emerald Subscription NOW to the Man in the Service k. . A ONLY for Remainder of Year! Oregon W Emerald