CBI Roundup
VOL. I      NO. 25          REG. NO. L5015           DELHI,  THURSDAY                                            MARCH  4,  1943.


Out in this part of the world, spring has arrived. Back home, spring is just around the corner and pretty girls, like Kay Williams of the movies, are getting ready to plant "victory gardens."
U.S. Planes Aid Sino Forces On Salween Front

  The United States Army's China Air Task Force, supporting Chinese Army ground elements on the Salween River Front, continues to harass Japanese lines of communications and installations in Northern Burma and Yunnan, a Chungking communique announced this week.
  Between Feb. 11 and 17, P-40's operating over Burma, strafed tugs and barges near Bhamo, ferry installations and trucks near Lungling, and military stores in the vicinity of Lameno. An enemy motor convoy near Wan Dah Lai-Kam was also attacked, and barracks at Laochai were strafed.
  In the Kengtung area, on Feb. 18, seven trucks, loaded with troops were strafed and destroyed, causing heavy casualties. Here, barracks and other installations were also damaged by strafing.
  Lashio, staging point for enemy action in northern Burma, was again attacked on Feb. 19, by P-40's, which concentrated their action on the Namtu Mines, causing severe damage. This action was followed by strafing the Lashio-Salween Road, destroying 10 cars and trucks.
  Combat reconnaissance planes on Feb. 21, trucks and river traffic at Bhamo and Mangshih. The following day, trucks were strafed at Linmlinme.
  B-25's, with P-40 escort, attacked Mangshih, concentration point for enemy troops and material, on the afternoon of Feb. 28, scoring many hits in the target area and starting two large fires.
  One pursuit ship was lost during these various missions. However the pilot is known to be safe, while all other aircraft returned without incident.
Enemy Casualties Heavy As Our  Fighter Planes Have Field Day

Roundup Staff Correspondent
  Japanese bomber formations, sweeping over the Burma mountains last week to attack American air bases in Assam, were smashed back and sharply reduced in an overwhelming victory for fighter planes of the India Air Task Force.
  The Japs not only failed completely in attempts to hit their targets, but suffered confirmed losses of eight bombers and seven escorting fighters. Enemy planes listed as probably destroyed total about the same. All of our planes returned to their bases without damage.
  Opening their first attacks on these bases since their ill-starred efforts of last October, the Nips sent a small formation of fighter-escorted bombers to make a high altitude attack on an Assam base on the afternoon of Feb. 23.
  After a day's respite, a strong formation of bombers with fighter protection attacked several of our bases on the morning of Feb. 25. It was on the latter attempt that the Japs suffered their heavy losses at the hands of our battle-eager P-40 pilots. Latest estimates of the attacking force on this day are that 46 enemy bombers, fighters and photographic planes participated. Observers reported that after this big battle ended, only nine Jap aircraft were seen flying back to their bases. Total damage inflicted by the enemy was confined to a tea planter's bungalow and fatal injuries to one workman.
  Credit for destroying one bomber each went to Capt. Charles H. Colwell, Lt. Alvin B. Watson, Lt. William C. Packard, Lt. John E. Fouts, Lt. Charley T. Streit, Lt. Lyle T. Boley, Capt. Earl J. Livesay and Lt. Shirley J. Marquette.
  Lt. Edward M. Nollmeyer, who shot down a Jap fighter last October when he single-handedly engaged Jap attacking planes, again destroyed one enemy fighter. Lt. John F. Coonan, Lt. Arthur L. Gregg, Capt. John Svenningsen, Lt. George M. Colarich, Lt. Jack Irwin and Lt. Ira M. Sussky each also bagged one of the enemy's escort fighters.
  As soon as reports of the decisive victory reached Washington, Gen. George C. Marshall, U.S. Army Chief of Staff, radioed the following message: "My warmest congratulations to officers and men who participated in repulsing Japanese air attack in force."
  The past week also found the 10th Air Force carrying out its offensive missions against Burma, in which many of the victorious fighter pilots participated.
  On Feb. 23, fighters arrived with light bombs, attacked a 200-foot railroad bridge 10 miles west of Myitkyina. Pilots reported one span completely out and a second span sagging. During the same day, heavy bombers attacked Rangoon docks, setting large fires.
  Bomb-carrying fighters destroyed one span of a 150-foot steel bridge six miles northeast of Pinhaw, as well as causing extensive damage to adjoining track.
  The Gokteik Viaduct, one of the engineering marvels of the Far East, and the 2200-foot vital link in the railroad between Mandalay and Lashio, was again attacked with large calibre bombs on Feb. 24. Direct hits and near hits were reported by attacking bomber crews.
  Japanese fighters intercepted the planes en route home and in a running battle, which lasted 30 minutes, one enemy plane was claimed as probably destroyed and a second plane damaged.
  Heavy bombers scored four direct hits on a 7,000-ton cargo ship south of Rangoon on Feb. 27. It is believed the vessel sunk. From our bases in Assam on the same day, a large force of fighters made a combined bombing and strafing attack against warehouses, gasoline and ammunition dumps at Waingmaw in northern Burma. The entire town was clouded by black smoke and returning pilots reported that the fires could be seen 60 miles away. Also on Feb. 27, heavy bombers attacked the Pazundaung railroad bridge north of Rangoon. This bridge, consisting of a pair of 250-foot spans across Pazundaung Creek, is the sole rail link between Rangoon and northern Burma. Bombs were seen to straddle the target.
  Fighter planes on Feb. 28, bombed and machine-gunned targets in northern Burma. At Tiangzup, a bridge was destroyed. Bombs were dropped among buildings but rain and low clouds hampered observations. At Nsopzup, anti-aircraft machine guns were silenced, trucks strafed and set afire and buildings bombed.
  The same day heavy bombers attacked railroad yards at Thazi. Hits were reported on the main line and sidings.

This is the way the 10th Air Force and the Royal Air Force size up their targets in Japanese-occupied Burma. In this case the target is the Sule Pagoda docks in Rangoon. How the target looked from a RAF reconnaissance plane several days before the raid is shown above. 10th Air Force bombers dump their loads over the target several days after the reconnaissance. Another RAF reconnaissance flight several days after the raid brought back this photo of the damage.

Assam Flight Leader Looms
As Theatre’s Tough Luck Titlist

  Capt. Wynn D. Miller, flight leader at an Assam air base, is a leading candidate for the title of this theater's tough luck guy.
  Ever since last July, Miller has been waiting in Assam for a crack at Japanese bombers. After months of "on the alert" Wynn was given
a week's leave last October and went to Calcutta. While he was away, the Japs attacked Assam air bases on two occasions.
  Miller came back even more eager to meet the enemy bombers, but none came. Early in December, the motor in his fighter plane failed while escorting bombers over Burma. He had to parachute and it took him 18 days to plod 280 miles out of the jungle.
  Back Miller went to Assam, certain that he'd get an opportunity at those bombers. Last week, just after he had left the base to bring back new fighter planes, the Japs attacked. Again he had to content himself with reading how his pals drubbed the enemy.
Hiccups Spare Chicken’s Neck

  Members of this bomb squadron see something significant (and it bodes no good for our little yellow opponents) in the fact that the initials of their commanding officer, Maj. James A. Philpott, spell out JAP. The major, one of the ranking flyers in the USAF, and the remainder of the pilots and combat crews (who, incidentally, recently observed the first anniversary of the Tenth U.S. Air Force) promise them "plenty of hell, too" before this man's war is over . . .
  Maybe Lucy, a buxom little hen owned by S/Sgt. Rufus Kramer, doesn't know it, but a bad case of hiccoughs saved her life. It happened at a recent evening chicken fry. Just as the sergeant and three friends, William Hoover, Walter Kjosa and George Kenny, were preparing to place the prospective little victim on the chopping block, they noticed the symptoms of the ailment appear and graciously spared the little hen's life (but temporarily). They wonder whether the hiccoughs were inspired by the chicken's fright at her impending sense of doom.

Mystery Of The Missing Mail
 By Corp. W. D. TRIGG

  All is quiet on Mosquito flats this week with nothing startling happening to interrupt the calm, placid existence at this fighter base. High time to bring honorable mention upon the "wee-sma-hours" boys who drive the local vehicles hither and yon. S/Sgt. Alexander is the head king fish in the motor pool while Corp. Clark dispatches. Corp. Holder and Pvt. Channing man the monkey wrenches while the men that hold the steering wheels are Pvts. Weare, Reynolds, Hayes, Johnson, Robbins, and Corp. Ebbs. It's no fun pushing a truck through the dust and it is a 24-hour job with little thanks so here's a pat on the back for the transportation section.
  We weren't going to say anything about it but after the very daring boast of the Station Hospital baseball team that they would challenge any other team in the 10TH USAF, we just had to take the starch out of them. The score was Fighter Detachment 5, Station Hospital 2.
  The armament section comprised of M/Sgt. Hunt, S/Sgts. Haines, Marthaler, Hobart, Gurr and Sentz, Sgts. Bruhn and Tullis and Corps. Armstrong, Donais, Newman and Buttram and Pfc. Teal, has really been busy lately - what with gunnery missions. It is really a man size job loading, cleaning or removing guns and there's one section that's sure got the men to do it.
  All day long, Mail Clerk Pvt. John Walsh, had sweated out an expected arrival of mail, so when none had arrived by 9 p.m. he gave up the wait and went to bed. To say he was disgruntled is to put it mildly when he was awakened a couple of hours later and was handed 10 letters addressed to himself. While he had slept, a large shipment of mail had been received, sorted out, and delivered by members of the orderly room . . .

Goldbricks Vie For Extra Wink In The Morning

  I knew it - no sooner I get a nice, cozy room in an honest to goodness building then I get moved out - now it's a bamboo hut at an Assam base. Oh, well . . .
  It might be of interest to U.S. Army Finance authorities to know that they pay the railroads in India rates for first class "wagons" for U.S. Troops to travel in, but unless the "drivers," "guards" and Station Masters are supplied with American cigarettes, tinned milk, and other commodities, the troops travel in cattle cars. It's a swell racket, and of course the don't "speaka da englesh" until the buckshish appears and is in their well-trained claws.
  These are really busy days. Each morning the Orderly Room crew, which consists of me (naturally), S/Sgt. Lapour and S/Sgt. Baygents. Each has his favorite hiding place from which he can watch the movements of the other two. If one of the three makes a move toward going to the office the other two go back to bed. It's a matter of patience. Sometimes the waiting period becomes overly long, and for fear that the C.O. will arrive there ahead of any of us, we all start at once, thereby having a full day out-goldbricking each other since we only have one desk. I think I'll pull my rank.
  S/Sgt. Tadakewski upon his arrival at this station found himself all alone at the dinner table the very first day. It is said the dining room was full of G.I.'s when suddenly he heard a couple of rifle shots. Teddy stabbed at an illusive potato with his fork, pulled the captured spud towards his mouth and noted that his neighbor was no longer seated beside him. He looked around - nobody was in the room!! It occurred to Teddy that the sudden absence of G.I.'s and the rifle shots had some close connection; "I've got it" he said to himself "Air Raid." He dropped the spud and lost no time in joining the rest in the slit trench. He says he's fast, but these boys sure have acquired plenty of speed.
  "Red" Sullivan went out for the count we are told. He purchased a couple of bottles of "snake bite" medicine (recently arrived via the new arrivals) and proceeded to see how fast he could consume it. That was several days ago and he's still in a flat spin. He swears that somebody put TNT in it.
  Your reporter was being "sweated out" something fierce by the officers of this outfit. They were afraid I went and got myself lost, along with a couple of little wooden boxes containing - nuff said, on my way up here. It sure pays to be popular. They were out in a body to meet me the day I arrived.
  Congrats to our newly promoted pilots: Capt. Ulichny, and 1st Lieuts. Bixby, Braucher, Ely, Gaston, Jones, D. R., Keith, Moffitt and McClung.
  Regards to our boys at 882 . . . Cheerio.


  On Feb. 25, 1943, 43,657 V-Mail letters were received in this theater from the United States. These letters were mailed in the states from Feb. 1st to 12th, some arriving in 13 days.
  It is expected this elapsed time will be further reduced when processing equipment, now on the way, is received. Dispatch of V-Mail to the United States is being made daily, delivery being effected in from 10 to 14 days.


  Though the annual roll call for American Red Cross funds got underway at home on Mar. 1 and will continue throughout the month, there will be no organized solicitation for funds in this area, according to Edward R. Eichholzer, director of Red Cross activities in the CBI Theater.
  However, to accomodate army personnel who wish to make contributions or renew their memberships, all Red Cross field and club directors have been authorized to accept any funds and issue membership receipts, he declared. Checks or money orders also may be mailed to the area headquarters office at Hotel Imperial, New Delhi.
  $125,000,000 has been set as the goal of the Red Cross campaign this month.

Medics Menace Life And Limb With Bicycle

  Yours truly has just witnessed the finals in the AFRC singles ping pong tournament at Karachi between Pvt. Manny Ytuarte and Jack Kirsch that has left him as winded as a high school quarter-miler, as open mouthed with amazement as a G.I. seeing the Taj Mahal for the first time. The technique of the two finalists in controlling the spheroid egg shell was remarkable, especially in the third match, when Ytuarte, two down, rallied and refused to let Kirsch escape from behind his duce ad, finally winning an elongated 29-27 thriller. Kirsch came back in the fourth match to win the series.
  It just ain't safe to walk blithely around in the tent streets anymore early in the morning or after dusk, at least since the medics in the dispensary purchased a bicycle. The "dispensary limited," piloted by Corps. Joseph McGuire, Harold Jones; Pfc. Joe Pyles; or Pvts. John Thornhill and Ed Richardson, gives no warning as it flashes like a spectre along the rows, just a whirrr as the tires crunch over gravel, heading for the extreme end of the area. One of these days before there is a serious casualty we're going to pass a motion to have the latrine moved closer to these "pill peddlars." (No more nose drops for us if we don't shut up).
  Pvt. Bob Harrington enjoys nocturnal hiking evidently. One night recently while coming home from town, Harrington asked the truck driver to let him off at the first gate. On the way, the driver halted at a hail of a hitchhiker, then proceeded on to camp, pulling up, some minutes later, exactly in front of Harrington's tent. No one got off the truck. Harrington had jumped off more than two miles back, thinking the stop had been for the gate.
  No T.O. has come through yet, or, for that matter, no ratings whatsoever, but Pvts. Reuben Kirkam, Robert Kelly and Louie Giardino, detachment mail men, let it be known this week that they have finally pulled themselves out of the "yardbird" category. They're now P.F.D.'s (Privates For Duration).
  A letter was received yesterday at the Special Services office from Pvt. Dick DeSonia, formerly stationed at a post within a few miles from the base. In it he had asked if he was needed for the AFRC Christmas show. It had been mailed December 17, but had a New York postmark on it. That's why, we have decided, it came so many days late, especially long after the Christmas show had been performed.


  The Headquarters bunch at this Air Force outpost in Assam now have a modern, comfortable day-room.
  Radios, phonographs, comfortable furniture, a ping-pong table in addition to a small food bar for serving coffee and sandwiches are among our other much appreciated luxuries. Carpets on the floors, electric lights and white ceiling and walls help to add the feeling of home to our otherwise rather drab existence. Without Lieut. Frank S. Wright and Col. Homer L. Sanders, the reconstruction of this day-room would never have materialized beyond the conversation stage.
  The dedication ceremonies for our new day-room started with the mellow music of Pops Hollowell and his "VV" band. The negro boys in the band here, due to the consideration of Col. John G. Arrowsmith, of an outlying engineering group, really took us back a few thousand miles to thoughts of our girlfriends, our wives, and the good times which have been had in the past. Lieut. Wright, our special service officer, presented Mrs. Alma Kerr of the Red Cross unit in this area to all the enlisted men and officers present.
  Mrs. Kerr talked on the subject of their organization's eagerness to give U.S. troops in this area an adequate supply of recreation and entertainment facilities. She explained that due to the lack of supplies and equipment in this isolated region, material help is minimized.
  Following Mrs. Kerr's introduction, S/Sgt. William A. Neale was awarded a prize for "Rumor Room," the name chosen as being most appropriate for our new abode.
  After a brief introduction to those present, everyone adjourned to our simple but effectively decorated mess hall for a jive session with Pops Hollowell and his boys. Music both sweet and hot vibrated among the bamboo rafters of our esteemed chow house. Burmese, English and American girls were swayed and jostled about to the rhythm of old and new dance routines. Although the boys out-numbered the girls about 4 to 1, everybody had a swell time, and one which will be long remembered.
  There were a few G.I.'s present at the occasion however, whose minds floated aimlessly about the dance floor in a cloud of inebriation, and whose bodies performed maneuvers slightly in advance of their intentions. These fellas were the life of the party. Laughing for the rest.
  During all of the evening, S/Sgt. Troy R. Flynt unselfishly volunteered his services as mess sergeant and spent his entire time preparing refreshments for the rest of us.

A few scenes from the recent opening of a day room at an Assam base.  Left: Pops Hollowell and his "VV" band get in the groove with some jive music.  Center: A corner of the day room during serving of refreshments.  Right: Dancing in the mess hall followed the day room opening ceremonies.   Photos by Pfc. Hubert L. McLeland


  Those extra stripes the boys of this bomb squadron have been sweating out, ad infinitum, finally came through this week to the accompaniment of smiles and handshakes. In all, 70 members of this organization were bumped up a grade, 14 being promoted to rank of staff sergeant, five to sergeant, and 51 to corporal.
  This outfit is not the back-patting kind but thinks (strictly off the record) that it has one of the finest Non-Commissioned Officers' Messes in this part of India. All who have seen it agree.
  Most popular feature of the spot (naturally) is an original and unique "Bamboo Bar," designed and built by members in their spare time. Bamboo, Indian matting, and even old airplane tire inner-tubes have been ingeniously used in its construction. The rustic Indian motif followed throughout the interior is complete even to a sturdy bamboo foot rail for those who prefer to bend elbows standing up. Two Indian lads have been hired and outfitted for table service - if patronage continues to increase, their number will soon be hiked to six.
  Newly-elected officers, and they are those who more or less sponsored the idea, are: M/Sgt. Elmer L. Hildreth, president; T/Sgt. Andrew K. Stephenson, vice president; S/Sgt. Hugh M. Roper, secretary and T/Sgt. Samuel N. Sackert, treasurer. A three-man board of governors consists of S/Sgt. Victor O. Blaine, S/Sgt. Edward S. Jaceks and M/Sgt. Thomas W. Christie.

Dragon Raises Shark-Toothed Head In China

  Finally and at long last the slumbering Dragon of the China Front raises its Shark-Toothed Head in retaliation to the insults and jeers of Per Diem Hill and gives forth with this squadron's news and returned insults.
  Many are the unsung heroes of the war and this squadron ranks high among these slighted immortals, although it is admitted no one is to blame other than the outfit's own self. However, it is your correspondent's humble endeavor to henceforth sing with the utmost of his lusty baritone, the praises of China's Air Service Command.
  As this column is making its initial appearance and there is much to be told, your correspondent wishes in the next two or three weeks to tell of the various functions of this squadron and of those hardy lads who cause such functions to function. Next week the story of Aero Repair will be offered. All have read of those gallant heroes, who after bloody encounters with the enemy, crashed in some desolate region of China or Burma and had to walk all the way home. But very few know the story that began when the location of the ship became known and of the part that was played by the unsung heroes of the Service Command.
  Therein lies the story of Aero Repair and Base Engineering. Then, too, we have our factory, engine overhaul, prop shop and instrument shop where we do our own fourth echelon work.
  Leaving the grease-smeared troopers of Engineering, comes lastly that valuable little compound of mud and grass that houses our beloved Air Corps Supply, pet headache of all good line chiefs.


When the Zeros start a'coming,
To the country called Assam.
It's time we men in the Ferry Group,
Lay down our tools and ran.

We're not afraid, oh no, not us
We're brave, from country free;
But when the Zeros start a'coming
We all say, "It's time for tea."

A plane is never overhead
Than eyes are skyward turned,
And even though it's our DC-3
We all say, "It's time for tea."

Before we got here, we all told
Of deeds that we would do.
Now that we're here, it's time to see
But no, "It's time for tea."

Oh, if the Zeros never came
How happy we would be.
We'd never have to worry about
Us going out for tea.

I'd like to finish this poem
But I can't for the life of me
I just heard a plane fly overhead
So you see, "It's time for tea."

(Dear Editor-This is just a poem,
not the truth)

The sky was black and the evening was chill
As before the campfire we gathered.
The natives were huddled all quiet and still.
Across where the oxen were teathered.
We sat on in silence as flames leaped high,
Each man with his memories walking,
'Till the laugh of the jackal meandering by
Set all of us laughing and talking.
Some talked of their hobbies; some of their sports
Tennis, badminton, and swimmin'
And after much banter and icy retorts,
The talk somehow drifted to women.
"There's a dame out west at Oregon State,"
Said the lad with the freckled nose,
"Kathryn's too long, so I'm call her "Kate."
And boy! She's got these them and those.
The others all grinned as each understood
That the "them" referred to her knees.
But try as they would, not one of them could
Understand what was meant by the "these."
The problem went round in humorous vein
As each feigned complete innocence.
"The Chaplain might tell you," said Freckles again
"How'd he know?" The mirth was intense.
"In Brooklyn's a dame I haven't known long,"
Said the lad with the soup-ladle thumbs.
"I said she's from Brooklyn, but don't get me wrong;
She isn't just one of "Dem Bums."
She doesn't say 'Joisey,' nor even 'yo-all.'
When she talks all the rules are complied with
But boy! She was born with more on the ball
Than her dear old grandmother died with."
"Now I know a gal," said the boy we call Tex,
"Who's really a honey, believe me.
Her father's a preacher, but man! How she necks!
Just with me - and she wouldn't deceive me."
Our faces were blank as we pondered his youth.
Was Tex, then, so woefully stupid?   Continues...
But no one exploded his evident faith -
'Twould only be frustrating cupid.
Thus hours pass swiftly, and embers burn low.
And memories fade with their light
And Yankee boys gather wherever they go
To tell of the love ones and sweethearts they know
"Round campfires cheery and bright.



Praise the Lord and don't pass the "Spam,"
Seems to be the lament of our boys in Assam.
Poor fellows who face each closing day
With "Spam" served any old way.

Say they in voice raised on High,
Our mess is lousy with the "Spam" they fry.
The reason we survive, the most of us think,
Is due to the beer they give us to drink.

Ours is really a terrible lot,
For look at the things we haven't got.
They try to tell us in a consoling way,
That is offset by the Per Diem they pay.

These notes are heard clear over the hump -
By the boys who have taken many a bump.
And eke out each glorious setting sun,
With a bowl of rice and a Chinese bun.

Funny their cry rings out so clear,
To their down trodden friends who are so near.
Give us Thanksgiving again by Dam,
By sending over a can of "Spam."

  - Members of the "Wrecker Squadron"


  A recently-organized athletic program at an Indian air depot is embracing softball, basketball, tennis, volleyball and ping pong.
  Most notable performance to date was turned in by the basketball team, which defeated the Y.M.C.A. in a thrilling overtime contest, 36-34, and annexed the Olympic Championship of a local State. A one-handed toss by Cpl. Jimmy Ehrman proved the clincher. Cpl. Mel Deatherage, high-scoring center, meshed 14 markers.
  The five-team intramural softball team is staging red-hot duels, and two of the teams recently played an exhibition game in town. Baseball is next on the calendar.


Suggestions On Spring Fashions

  Spring, chums, is here!
  At home, naturally, we would be thinking of white linen suits, sport clothes for the gals with sweaters repeat sweaters, the Fifth Avenue Easter Parade, Panama hats, two-tone shoes, convertible coupes, taking the girl friend out to see the moon in the car instead of inviting her up to a steam-heated apartment to view your etchings.
  In this theatre we automatically think of dhoties, perspiring females in rumpled cotton dresses, no sweaters, the Queensway bullock-cart parade, topees, G.I. brogans, tongas, and inviting the girl friend up to the room to view your itchings.
  However, c'est le guerre, so we must prepare for balmy weather that bounces the Fahrenheit up to 120 degrees.
  Under the jerkumstances a few fashion hints might be in order!
  Firstly comes the inevitable shorts. Until softened by British proximity and influence the American looked with disdain, nay revulsion, on the exposed masculine knee. After almost a year in the tropics, however, certain members of homo sapiens Americana have broken out in short pants, both respiratory and sartorial. With characteristic American abandon the Character usually seen in shorts is one with a behind reminiscent of the local Maharaja's pet elephant and with legs like Aunt Kate's canary.
  This is as it should be because in a world full of tears the rear view of a beer keg toddling along on match sticks is not without humorous aspects.
  Comes then the topee. Here we have a piece of haberdashery that runs the gamut from the American G.I. model which looks like something the Boy Scouts threw away to the imposing headpiece worn by the pucca sahib which always gives one an uncontrollable urge to approach the wearer with a:

  "Dr. Livingstone, I presume!"
  The quartermaster will tell you that the American model is made of fibre and was evolved after tearing to bits all other tropical helmets and selecting only the best from each. It is absolutely out of this world, according to the blanket jockeys. We concur that is has one distinctive feature. On exposure to rain it collapses around your ears in a lover's embrace that is all enveloping and far from coy!
  Perhaps the most important fashion hint concerns the proper display of prickly heat. In having the rash you are not distinctive. Everybody gets it, but the person who understands color combinations and the exploitation of design will be individual indeed.
  A tasty motif would be to wear a short jacket sans shirt or undershirt. This would leave the rash about the midriff exposed and give the effect of a pinkish rattlesnake skin belt highly prized by American Westerners as you know. If such decolletage is followed it is suggested that a betel leaf be worn over the navel to conform to more conservative style dictates.
  Should prickly heat break out on the face wear a blue necktie - giving the red and blue combination which is not only attractive but definitely patriotic.
  Colored glasses should be worn. Be sure and get those with white rims in order to give a Hollywood aura to a land full of motion picture props. If you want those fancy air corps caliber jobs write letters to the 10th Air Force asking for same. They'd love to hear from you and should take particular delight in replying that you can't have any.
  There's no more space and this thing is a little silly anyway but our only thought is to do something constructive for our boys. If you don't like our fashion hints ask for six months furlough in Simla and see if we give a dam!

The C.B.I. Roundup is a weekly newspaper published by and for the men of the United States Army Forces in China, Burma, and India, from news and pictures supplied by staff members, soldier correspondents, the United Press and Office of War Information. The Roundup is published Thursday of each week and is printed by The Statesman in New Delhi, India. Editorial matter should be sent directly to Lt. Clancy Topp, Rear Echelon, Hq., U.S.A.F., C.B.I., New Delhi, and should arrive not later than Monday in order to make that week's issue. Pictures must arrive by Sunday and must be negatives or enlargements. Stories should contain full name and organization of sender.

MARCH  4,  1943    

Adapted from the original issue of C.B.I. Roundup

Copyright © 2015 Carl Warren Weidenburner