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Sgt. George Schoenitch's sand table is an important aid to Chinese-American Composite Wing bombings, for there are few good maps of China and the elements often change terrain. |
Lt. C. T. Shen flashes a smile as he takes off for a mission. |
Lt. R. S. Bell and Lt. Y. L. Liu, B-25 pilots, discuss their recent bombing of Formosa, Jap hornet nest in the China Sea. |
The CBI Radio Team visited an advance base and recorded an all-Chinese program, destined for the Blue Network. |
Chu Seng-San, veteran Chinese aerial gunner, practices sighting with caliber 50's in a B-25, of which he is a crew member. |
Americans and Chinese work side by side on overhaul repair and installations. The Yank G.I.'s are Sgt. J. F. Soucik, left and S/Sgt. R. T. Fitzgerald. Chinese do comparable tasks. |
A perfect landing, a la Chinese. That's an American-trained Chinese pilot of the Composite Wing landing his aircraft with skill and aplomb at an advanced fighter and bomber base. |
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MOTHER AND SON The Indian mother wears her infant son Aswing in her sari, tied to her back, all day Or, hung at her side, astraddle her hip, while she Continues picking tea the ancient way. She knives among the bushes as she fills Her basket with fresh leaves of living jade. Bronze hands are busy. Silver bracelets flash In sunlight. Scattered trees lend gentle shade. She may lift her black umbrella while she works It becomes a large dark nimbus in the rain. The barefoot madonna shifts her drowsy boy And looks up, startled at a sudden plane. She wonders on the day he will go forth Where lightning wheels outrun the bullock cart. And magical machines outdo the hands. Tea-picking fills her day; and he, her heart. - By Sgt. F. ELWOOD JONES |
CONVERSATION PIECE
Is the gateway to India at Bombay Really as beautiful as they say? Don't rightly know, Ma'am. Did my part Breakin' point in the jungle's heart; blasted the boulders, felled the trees with red muck oozin' around our knees; Carved the guts from the Patkai's side, Dozed our trace, made it clean and wide, Metalled and graded, dug and filled: We had the Ledo Road to build. Well, surely you saw a burning ghat, Fakirs, rope tricks and all of that. Reckon I didn't. But way up ahead I tended the wounded, buried the dead. For I was a Medic, and little we knew, But the smell of sickness all day through, Mosquitoes, leeches, and thick dark mud Where the Chinese spilled their blood After the enemy guns were stilled: We had the Ledo Road to build. |
Of course, you found the Taj Mahal, The loveliest building of them all. Can't really say, lady I was stuck Far beyond Shing with a QM truck Monsoon was rugged there, hot and wet, Nothing to do but work and sweat And dry was the dust upon my mouth As steadily big "cats" roared on south, Over this ground where Japs lay killed: We had the Ledo Road to build. You've been gone two years this spring, Didn't you see a single thing? Never saw much but the moon shine on A Burmese temple around Maingkwan, And silver transports high in the sky, Thursday River and the swift Tanai, And Hukawng Valley coming all green, Those are the only sights I've seen. Did our job, though, like God willed: We had the Ledo Road to build. - By. Sgt. SMITH DAWLESS |
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