THE SQUADRON PULSE
For the Men of the Fightin’ 3rd Published in the Philippines
Vol. 1. No. 8 Weekly April 21, 1945 3rd Airdrome Squadron APO 74.
ISSUES
The main issue was, the BEER issue. The day we found out we could get the stuff and posted the notice on the bulletin board, we could see and hear Stouch running toward the Supply Tent yelling, “Beer! We’re gonna get beer!” The men had kicked in their pesos and everything was set. It was APO 70 [possibly Lingayen - Ed.], or know the reason why! Ben Weinstein, Jim Bulger and myself, with a jeep and trailer and with the help of PeeWee Bender’s map, which if we didn’t have we probably would still be wandering around somewhere.
With a yell from the boys, “If you don’t get the beer, don’t bother coming back,” we were off. The roads were fair, but the scenery of rolling hills and rice paddies made up for that. Getting pretty well done in, Jim took the wheel at the next town that we came to. We stopped at a one-carabao town and children came running from all directions. The way they all crowded around the jeep we looked at each other and said at once, “We must be the liberators of this place.” This we had to get a picture of. The mayor of the town and the principal of the school came out to greet us. I almost felt like ole Mac himself in “I Have Returned.” The principal, seeing we wanted to take pictures, got all the kids lined up. It was really a sight to see. He then brought out all the school teachers (women), and we took a few pictures with them. The mayor wanted us to come over to his house for dinner, and then on an inspection tour of the town. But we were behind schedule and still had a long distance to cover, so had no choice but to turn down his offer. With farewells and yells of ‘Veectoree’ from the kids, we were off. Jim driving, we were making pretty good time and soon reached our destination at APO 70. We went to QM and after waiting two hours got our papers approved and the beer paid for and all we had to do now was pick it up. But it was getting late. We knew Capt. Foster was expecting us back the same day, but not knowing the roads too well, we decided to sleep overnight. Early in the morning we got the beer and were off.
Things were going too smooth, and we all had the feeling that trouble was in sight. It wasn’t too long before it was staring us in the face. There we were on the bank of the river with jeep, trailer, and no bridge. We drove down the bank to find a crossing and found some Filipinos with a large raft. This being our only chance we talked them into taking us across. First went trailer, beer and Jim and Ben. I stayed behind with the jeep. They succeeded and later when I drove the jeep onto the raft it sunk about six inches. The Filipinos had to work like mad to keep it on its course. (What’s Lewis and Clark got that we ain’t got?) Once on our way again, little things like rainstorms and rough roads didn’t bother us much. Finally, we got back, just one day late.
Driving up to supply, Badal and Red Dunbar and Houghton were only too glad to help us unload our precious cargo. We discovered that Capt. Foster and Fowler and Strum DeVore all queued up to lead a posse in search for us. But it was worth two days of winding roads and rover crossings and what have you, to see the happy faces on the men of the Advance Echelon when we came in with the BEER issue.
By - Jerry Goodman
THE GRAVY BOAT SAILS IN
It’s the gravy deal, see, so don’t tell nobody about it, keep it down, and I’ll let you in on it. And so, 15 sturdy men volunteered (more or less) to comprise the rear echelon. Not that you needed to promise the men of the Third some sort of a reward such as fresh Navy chow to entice them to perform arduous tasks as loading and unloading airplanes, cleaning up camp, and tearing down such imposing structures as our great FORT POLLOCK [the latrine - Ed.]. Hell no, they’d volunteer down to the last man. And your reporter wishes to report that the last man is about the only man you’ll find volunteering in the Third.
So we sailed. Well almost. It seems that just as we were about to go aboard, Keeler, Schlick, and J.T. Goodman had to go back to camp “to get their laundry.” I’ve often wondered just what was in that laundry bag that Keeler always wanted to get..........
Yes, it was a pretty nice trip, but fifteen men handling all that equipment was really no breeze. But when I drove up, after three hours of driving from Manila in one of the Third’s luxurious Command Cars, in a dust storm and then a rainstorm, I got the old pay-off. The first guy I meet as I drive up, tired and feeling like a ten-cent milkshake, is a squadron wag. He breaks out in a big smile as if he gets a real original thought. Boy this is going to be good I murmured to myself, and out it comes: “Haw haw, you guys shoulda been here when it was reeely rough ......Haw haw.” ...... May his soul rest in peace.
By - Capt. Alegria
CAPTAIN MITCHELL COMMENDS:
Sgt. Gensheimer, for efficiency in conversion of Bomb Service Trucks to airborne vehicles.
THE SQUADRON PULSE
Vol. 1 No. 8 April 21, 1945
Editor ................. Pfc. Stringfield
Contributing Editor .... Cpl. Calkins
Chief Compositor........ Cpl. Drecoll
This paper may be sent home
THE PRESSURE IS ON
Directives, Memorandums, Letters, Circulars, Service Memorandums, Maintenance Manuals, Circular Letters and just plain Buck Sheets; the entire gauntlet has been run in recent weeks, with great emphasis on care and maintenance of property and equipment. Particular pressure is placed on the care of property issued to individuals: Small Arms, Field Equipment and Clothing. Negligent loss or destruction means just one thing from here on out, i.e. PAY FOR IT.
THE LITTLE TURTLE
Once upon a time there was a beautiful young lady who went strolling along the brook in the evening. As she walked along, something said “Ouch! You nearly stepped on me.” Looking around quickly, she was amazed to see nothing but a little turtle. Then she said, “Did you speak?” “Yes,” replied the little turtle, “I can speak. Once I was a big, strong, handsome man, but a curse was placed upon me and I was changed into a little turtle. Please, oh beautiful lady, please break the curse. Take me home with you, place me under your pillow, make a wish, and sleep on me.
So, the beautiful lady picked up the little turtle, carried it home with her, placed it under her pillow, made a wish [and] retired. The next morning she awoke to find a big, strong, handsome man in bed with her. And do you know that to this very day her folks will not believe the story about that little turtle.
AS TIME GOES BY --- BIRTHDAYS
Argondizza, Kashuba and Porter, all on the 23rd.
FAMOUS SAYINGS
With a strictly 3rd Airdrome flavor
Wherever you hang your hat you have found a home. --- HHP Whittemore
If you don’t believe me, ask Sgt. Mascolina --- Pop Taylor
No seconds! --- Carlson
Tears on my pillow each morning --- Hit tune at Oro Bay, with J.T. Goodman as vocalist.
Vieners and sauerkrrraut! --- Schmitz
Nonetheless, I bear a morbid propensity for platitudinous ponderosities. --- Stringfield
(I’m innocent, so help me. -- Ed.)
Fall in -- right chere! --- 1st Sergeant Lindsay
Dat Fortabeetis ain’t been woikin’ for t’ree days --- Weissman
Listen brother, don’t tell me about that Red Cross ---
That’s right -- you guessed it.
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