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About Oregon daily emerald. (Eugene, Or.) 1920-2012 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 30, 1943)
One Soldier’s Christmas Day By DICK MUHWAY For many it was a Christmas without the white snow and red, frostnipped faces; for others it was a Christmas without the legendary California sunshine and poinsettas; for most it was a Christmas without family and old friends and home. It was still Christmas. We weren’t here but we under stand Captain and Mrs. Cable, the cooks, and the others really did lhe thing up right for the lads who stayed around—tablecloths, candles, extra desserts, good cheer. A number of the boys set out Thursday night and Friday for Seattle, Portland, and other spots where home or friends waited, y/e decided to pay a long-delayed visit to a cousin in Salem. Two loggers who were pretty well gone picked us up near the postofice, said they were going to Ali%ny, wondered if we wanted to stop for a drink. They stopped at a logging equipment company just outside Eugene. The man ager was having open 'house. His ager was having open house. His \j as & picture For "pin-up"’ charm, choose Kalnion-designed Paramounts! Shoes so feminine, so alluring they’re some j ' thing-to-remember-you-by! In a hurried post-Christmas pre new year's check-up, an expens ively good-sized fistful of orchids are consigned to Captain Cable, air corps chief who bailed five of his men out of the infirmary Christmas eve. It gave the men a Christmas eve among friends as the four white walls were dis pensed w'ith earlier than the doc tor had ordered. And the air corps ‘gates will have a chance to swing' out Fri day night with the first dance of the new term. All details con cerning the occasion have not yet been worked out but full advant age will be taken of the 1 o’clock per so conveniently granted. office desk was covered with liquor bottles, cokes, cigars, cig arettes, etc. He knew his Dale Carnegie. Fortified by this sudden ex pression of friendship, we contin ued our journey. The two log gers left up in Albany. We wait ed for another ride in a heavy downpour, finally got picked up by an old codger whose coupe broke down with us in it. Again out into the rain and a wet wait until a sailor plus pick-up stopped and let us climb in back onto a couple of drums of gas. We were in Salem two hours after leaving Eugene. Bought a steak dinner. In the restaurant we heard a grey-haired mother say, referring to 11s: “Aren’t (hose fine looking boys?” The new found where my cousin lived, tok a. bus, rang her door bely, fell into her arms. Her daughter, who had been a babe in-arms the last time we'd seen her, was now tottering around rather successfully, could say a few important words such as “Bye Bye”, Sandy Claws”, “Ma ma”. (Sudenly the realization: we are growing older in the army.) The cousin’s husband is cor poral of a mortar squad at Camp Adair. He had some grim tales of double-timing two miles in Ore gon mud with full field pack, Ml, and mortar parts. It sounded frightfully like the army to us. We helped them set up and decorate a Christmas tree. An other soldier-wife combination was living with them. The wife was a Long Island lassie and it seemed mighty good to hear the twangy acent again. We sipped on some “mellowed’ ginger ale while watching them open their presents. The room was warm, we were contented, rain if not snow was beating on the roof—it was Christmas eve, after all. We slept late in the morning, got up, and walked around in the balmy sunshine to develop an ap petite for the turkey dinner. The turkey was excellent. My cousin coked as we vaguely remembered our mother’s cooking. We puffed on two-bit cigars after ttie meal, in the clouds of smoke forgot Larsen’s voice, calisthenics, dou ble-timing . . . Left cousin's house at five thirty, went downtown in Salem, wandered around, saw buses from Camp Adair unload tons of sol diers in a town where lines a mile long waited to get in every movie and every restaurant or bar was closed . . . Took the midnight bus back to Eugene . . . Fell asleep right off . . . Had pleasant dreams . . . which proves it had been a merry Christmas. CLASSIFIED ADS Room for Rent 671 E. 16th STAFF Co-Editors Warren Miller Shaun McDermott Scribes Dick Murway Gail Myers i asked the private what he likes to think about while at for mation he told me, "new years”, i asked what part and the priv ate said quite bluntly without a moments’ hesitation, "just six months. . . . my friend, the six months following the duration.” the Christmas presents received in hendricks hal were mainly . . . cbokies, fruit cake, shiny identi fication bracelets, and another fruit cake .... if anyone wants a piece of fruit cake, come up to suite 11. by the shores of the Willamette by the shining mill race waters stood the tiny village eugene pride of all the valley, eugene tal and straight her spires lifted over buttes and over fir trees here we spent our many months of our happy forty-three year spent in study; learning nature, from the many, many co-eds. grew we wise in mathematics grew we strong in mind and body grew we moss upon our shoulders slogged we daily through the marches running through our daily p. e. hunted often for the wild game which abounds in yonder forest jives arid sports in nearby forest fought we often deadly combat with our dreaded screening tests fought and perished; fought and vanquished if we perished we were lifted by the graceful hand of Samuel far across the snow clad moun tains across the tall and rocky moun tains into lands we know as buckley ho, my comrades gone before me departed friends who go before me tend for me a bunk, an upper and save for me a mattress, downy. Add this column to the list of those scribes who read books and comment on them . . . (better not try this in geography lecture, there’s a screener coming up . . t but ran across a dilly ... a story of a rookie and his exploits in australia . . . corporal st. george tells it and calls it . . . “c-o post master” . . .a lively story not at all 4 4 4 EUGENE HOTEL Presents ART HOLMAN AND HIS ORCHESTRA in the Persian Room Dancing 9 ’til 12 Every Sat. Nite I In the South l’acifie . . . . . . war zone is First Lieutenant Frank E. Walton, Jr., who at tended the University in 1038. Li. Walton is attached to the “Black sheep'' fighter squadron of the marine corps. IJe is completing his first tour of duty in that sec tor. Id. Walton was a swimmer for the Hollywood athletic eluh in the early thirties, competing against such stars as Weismuller and Crabbe. He entered the mar ines in December, 1042. prissy and has lots of quips like: . . . “we were read (before we de parted) a lecture, prepared by the war department and butchered by a, second lieutenant” . . . By yutch Oregon U'Emerau, City Desk s( iif Fred Weber, City Ec! n Night Staff Norris Yates, Night K at >v "The Man From. f Down Under" »: with Charles Laughton, ji "Find The Blackmailer" with Gene Lockhart Lum and Abner in "So This Is Washington" jj The Men and Women ' : The RAF Presenting "Coastal Command" .-’aur, For That Friday Night's Dinner Shop at DOROTHY GRAY Special Dry-Skin Mixture REG. $iQ $2.25 Jg SIZE PIUS TAX ALSO REG. $4.00 SIZE NOV,/ ONLY JL- PLUS TAX LIMITED TIME! FAMOUS night cream'foi weather-beaten skin, offeic d ■ once-a-year savings. Helps ; come flaky-rough spots aroi.'ii 1 the mouth . . . tiny lines du i ’ dryness. Don’t fail to order v supply at this special sale TIFFANY D W DRU'.