Vol. III  No. 48.           Delhi, Thursday,  Aug. 2, 1945           Reg. No. L5015.
Original border guard group standing by gate at the border. Left to right: Cpl. J. J. Trimarco and Pfc. J. J. Lombardo, Philadelphia; Sgt. Charles W. Kulp, Emmaus, Pa.; Capt. John J. Gussak, Brooklyn; Sgt. Raymond Cochran, Waterman, Pa. and Pfc. Philip J. Gaughan, Shenandoah, Pa.

Cpl. James R. Donnelly of Easton, Pa., member of the Border Guard, inspects the engine parts of a jeep for contraband goods. Smuggled goods bring enormous prices in the Chinese black market. At this control point, MP's and CID work hand in hand.
Now Operating In Burma Area -
Inspect Trucks Rolling To China

  By SGT. JOHN McDOWELL   Roundup Staff Writer

   MONG-YU, BURMA - After sitting on top of the lid of the Burma-China border "hot-spot" village of Kyukhok, a few hundred yards across the boundary line from Wanting in China, for the last five months, The United States Army Military Police Border Guard Detachment this week moved its control station back to this Burma-Ledo Road junction.
   The move to Mong-yu, 10 miles inside the Burma border, was made to co-ordinate the work of the Border Guard and the Criminal Investigation Department anti-smuggling unit which set up headquarters in this road junction village three weeks ago to take over the job of inspecting China-consigned convoys and American military personnel for contraband.
   Processing of Chinese-operated vehicles will be handled as in the past, with the C.I.D. agents inspecting the vehicles and a detachment of Chinese MP's examining the personal effects of the drivers.

   Capt. John J. Gussak, who has commanded the Border Guard since it was set up last February 9, revealed that the original compliment of veteran Stilwell Road MP's, who formed the guard, is being replaced by a fresh unit. Gussak too, is stepping up from his job of Border Guard commander to the office of Provost Marshal for the Kunming-Wanting section of the Stilwell Road.
   The new Border Guard detachment is stepping into a smooth working system of contraband control designed primarily to prevent American soldiers from "sticking their necks out."
   When Gussak and a "hand-picked" platoon of MP's arrived in the barren Wanting hill country last February, they had to build the border control system from scratch.
   Gussak, a voluble Brooklyn attorney, is enthusiastic over the job his men accomplished, and he is ready at the slightest encouragement to describe that job in a few hundred thousand well-chosen words.

   The border contingent reached Kyukhok (pronounced choo-coke) when the front lines were 11 miles away. "The whole place was swarming with soldiers of the Chinese Expeditionary Force, but we finally found an area where we could pitch pup tents," Gussak recalls. "That was just the beginning of our troubles, though."
   That first night, and on succeeding nights, the MP's had little opportunity to sleep. For, from three a.m. on, a medley of off-key bugle calls emanated from the Chinese camp. When he complained to the Chinese commander, Gussak was told that the Chinese Army believed it was bad to awaken men abruptly and consequently used a series of "harmonious bugle calls" over a period of hours to arouse the soldiers gradually.
   "The nocturnal bugling wasn't bad enough," the stocky graying captain says,
First member of the Border Guard to inspect a China-bound convoy vehicle was Pfc. Philip J. Gaughan, Shenandoah, Pa.
"so the Chinese threw in a schedule of round-the-clock haphazard firing of rifles and tommy guns. And, we couldn't allow ourselves to flinch when a rifle went off near our camp, for that would have caused us to lose face with the Chinese."

   Gradually, though, the men built a large company area. They dug up a Jap pipe line and utilized it to bring water two miles down to the camp from a reservoir on a hill above the village. Tents were put up - tents which contained what probably were the most expensive floors ever used in an Army installation in this Theater. The floors consisted of 30-pound zinc blocks abandoned at Wanting by Burma in 1941. Each block was valued at $15 and 360 blocks were required for the floor of each tent.
   Guarding the border against smuggling quickly became just a part of the over-all job which Gussak and his men found on their hands. Bands of Chinese bandits were attacking native villages and waylaying convoy stragglers. The natives sought the aid of the Border Guard against these brigands and an armored half-track, commanded by Lt. Robert C. Roseberry, was dispatched to patrol the troubled areas.

   Natives, returning to their villages from the hills, where they had sought refuge during the Battle of Wanting, were injured every day by exploding duds, hand grenades and booby traps. They brought the injured to the border station, seeking medical treatment. Slightly injured victims were given first aid and sent back to their villages; the more seriously wounded were rushed to Seagrave's Hospital in Namkham by MP volunteers.
   Once, when cases of death from smallpox were reported in nearby villages, Gussak wired for smallpox vaccine. Two days later 300 villagers had been vaccinated by Gussak and Roseberry and the Border Guard Medical Aid Men, and a possible epidemic averted.
   Famine, too, was a problem. Rice paddies hadn't been planted for a year. The Japs had taken practically all livestock and poultry during the years of "co-prosperity." When the border unit arrived, the natives were grubbing in the earth for roots and dried rice shots. They were fed left-overs from the G.I. rations and arrangements were made for them to draw regular rations and stocks of seed for planting new rice crops.

   As convoy traffic over the Stilwell Road increased, the Border Guard ran into trouble when Chinese drivers objected to shake-downs of their vehicles and personal property by American troops. So a Chinese MP unit was moved into the border station to handle their fellow troops, starting a system of joint border control which still is in effect today.
   With the increased traffic to China, the cluster of dilapidated corrugated iron huts which comprised the village of Kyukhok grew. And, most of the new "citizenry" proved to be black market agents who, after ultimately being chased out of town, set up business across the border in Wanting, creating another smuggling control headache.
   Increased opium and liquor traffic along trails in the Wanting area - traffic over which the Border Guard had no jurisdiction - resulted in the British setting up a Civil Affairs Office with 20 Kachin constables under K. B. Chettri, who had done anti-smuggling work at Wanting in the old days of the Burma Road.

   During the early days of the border control station, the area constantly seethed with rumors of Jap agents and Jap Army stragglers operating along The Road. Source of these rumors was quieted with the arrest of a native who had been posing as a Shan guerilla leader. This "self-appointed" guerilla chieftain, it was learned with his arrest, had been playing both ends against the middle, selling Jap prisoners to the Chinese and Chinese prisoners to the Japs. In his spare time, he worked as an agent for the Japs, spreading rumors and picking up information.
   The border control station operated around the clock, with two American and two Chinese MP's on duty at all times. Pillboxes armed with 30-caliber machine guns were dug in on either side of the border "crash gate" to be used in case of trouble.
   Both Gussak and Capt. Vaughan E. Farrie, head of the border C.I.D. detachment, declare that attempts at smuggling by American personnel over The Road have been negligible. One G.I. was picked up with $1,000 in gold in his purse. Others have been picked up with large quantities of cigarettes, clothing and PX rations.

   This has resulted in limitations being set on supplies convoy personnel can take into China. These limitations include 150 rupees (any amount of American currency can be taken into China), three cartons of cigarettes, three bars of soap and any excesses in film, cloth, drugs, candies and similar commodities. Any overages of this type found on convoy personnel are returned to the owner upon his return to India or Burma.
   The old Border Guard had a nickname of "Little Pennsylvania" as a preponderance of its members were from the Quaker State. Among the old time Pennsylvanians were Pfc. Philip J. Gaughan, who gained fame by being the first man to check a Stilwell Road convoy at the Burma-China border; Sgt. Charles W. Kulp and Pfc. Howard R. Bachman of Allentown; Cpl. J. J. Trimarco and Pfc. J. J. Lombardo, who grew up together in the same block in Philadelphia and have served together since entering the Army; Sgt. Raymond A. Cochran of Waterman; Pfc. Frank A. Yancheski of Kulpmont; and Cpl. Paul Medenjack of Newell.
   But the Pennsylvanians didn't do all the work. Men like Roseberry of Long Island, N.Y.; Pfc. Frank Tang of Phoenix, Ariz., and three of the old-time Merrill's Marauders - Pfc. Robert Jones, Pfc. William Shaffer and Pvt. Charles Hollowell - played a big part in setting up and maintaining the border guard.

   Gussak - the "honorary mayor" of Wanting - has the most amazing story of all, however. For Gussak is one of the few survivors of a Liberty ship which was torpedoed in the Indian Ocean in July, 1944, by a Jap sub commanded by the notorious Jap captain known as "The Butcher."
   Gussak, along with nearly 100 other civilian and Army personnel aboard the ship who survived the torpedo hit, was picked up by the Jap sub and taken for a "death ride" which lasted from 7 p.m. until 10 p.m.
   With their hands wired behind their backs, the survivors were forced to kneel on the catwalk deck of the sub. Here they were beaten and, one by one, were forced to run a gauntlet of knives, bayonets and clubs. When the sub suddenly crash dived, the handful of men yet to run the gauntlet were washed into the sea. Among these was Gussak who treaded water and floated for one hour (life jackets had been taken off every one by the Japs) before a member of the crew who managed to free his hands came to the rescue and broke the wire with a knife the Japs had overlooked in their search.

   Gussak and the others were in the water and on air-dropped life rafts for 36 hours before being picked up by a British destroyer. Of the 100, only 23 survived.
   Today, the talkative Flatbusher still shows the strain of that harrowing experience. "But," he admits with a sly grin, "the peace and quiet of the job here on the Border Guard has helped my nerves a lot."
   That's Brooklyn humor for you!

Maj. Gen. Thomas J. Hanley, Jr., new head of the Army Air Forces in India-Burma, observed Air Force Day this week with all command units.
   Army Air Force units in India-Burma, under command of Maj. Gen. T. J. Hanley, Jr., scheduled special programs for August 1 to celebrate the 39th anniversary of the founding of the USAAF.
   All over the world the USAAF observed its anniversary to celebrate the growth from one officer and two enlisted men as a branch of the Signal Corps in 1917 to its present size of more than 2,500,000.
   When the U.S. entered World War I on Apr. 6, 1917, the Aviation Section had 65 officers, of whom 35 were flyers, and 1,087 enlisted men, with a total of 55 airplanes all of them obsolete for combat purposes. During World War II the U.S. grew into the greatest air power in the world.
   In a special message, the commanding general of the USAAF, H. H. Arnold, said, "I wish it were possible on Air Force Day to be present at every base and talk of our growth to you who know the Air Force from its work on the field. Since that is impossible, I believe I can say from observation that your country is cognizant of the magnificent battle you have fought, whether the odds were great or small."
   Air power has had a spectacular history in the India-Burma Theater, with the supply of the Burma campaign by air, the transportation of an entire division by air for the relief of Imphal, transporting of Chinese troops over The Hump and continuing supplying of China's needs by the Hump flyers.

Tiger Stories Get Rougher

By SGT. WILLIAM L. BROWN   Roundup Field Correspondent

   BURMA - The rains came to Central Burma and isolated the men of The Gremlins, an Air Service Group. But that isn't all. It also isolated a family of tigers that proceeded to make itself at home in The Gremlins camp.
   When the water came up, the only high ground for miles around was the base occupied by The Gremlins. As the tigers were flooded out, they also took refuge on this island.
   Included in the tiger family is a mother and cub, plus two other tigers of unknown relation. Many men have seen the cats, and score of pot-shots have been taken at them without result. The tigers still control the situation.
   The nocturnal adventures of the mother and her cub was ... followed one morning by tracks in the mud. Apparently seeking shelter from the rain, the tigress and her baby entered the engineering office and proceeded to take a bite out of a rubber cushion. The bite was about 8 inches wide. From there, the pair walked down to the CQ's shack at Air Corps Supply, stood in front of the door, decided not to enter, then continued on to the Air Corps Supply warehouse.
   Here, some inflated rubber boats caught the cat's interest. The mother gave one of the boats a slap that sent it across the warehouse and then proceeded to tear a mouthful of rubber out of it. The tigers made their exit right through the Hessian cloth wall.
   Orders were issued for everyone to burn flares in front of all sleeping quarters at night, and no one goes out alone and unarmed.
   An appeal was sent to local authorities, so a government hunter was sent for. He arrived the next day, a Garo hill lad, 14 years old and armed with a bow and poisoned arrows and a little goat for bait. To date he hasn't had any results.
   An unverified story came from a detachment of men sharing the Gremlin base. These men slept in a small basha with open sides. One of the men declared he felt someone trying to wake him up in the night. He thrust out an arm, and the next instant, both he and his cot were hurtling across the room. In the morning there were tiger tracks outside.

U.S. Press Raps Ban By China

   NEW YORK - (UP) - Darrell Berrigan, Far Eastern editor of the New York Post, returned to Manhattan from California this week to learn from Tillman Durdin's dispatch to the Times that he and Harold Isaacs of Newsweek had been barred from China for writing stories that the Chungking regime had not liked.
   The United Press viewed the trend toward such censorship with alarm, and the Times observed: "Some American journalists, not necessarily Berrigan or Isaacs, have gone to extremes in their attacks on weakness and corruption in Chungking.
   "But if the Generalissimo is sincere in his professed desire for a democratic China, he will sooner or later have to put up with this sort of thing even in China itself. Nothing American reporters have written about Chiang Kai-shek is more severe than what some American commentators have written about Roosevelt."
   Declared Cecil Brown, Mutual broadcaster: "American reporters will not submit to Chungking's terms as the price paid for working in China."
   From Chungking, United Press reporter Albert Ravenholt wrote: "United States Army Headquarters here stated they had 'absolutely no objection' to admitting the two correspondents to China, but was forced to bow to the will of the Chinese Government."

Tobia, 8-year-old orphaned Indian girl, probably has more boy friends than any other young lady in Bengal.


   HQ., 10TH AIR FORCE - Although the upkeep sometimes runs into rupees plenty, men of the 10th Air Force's 12th Bombardment Group (The Earthquakers) shell out willingly when it makes Tobia happy.
   The B-25 boys took Tobia, orphaned when her Bengali parents were killed in a Jap raid a year ago and instituted a program of subtle transformation from an Indian lass to a G.I. Jane. The eight-year-old girl has stood up under the strain like a trouper.
   It all came about shortly after the raid when an Indian employed by the "Bulldog" squadron of the 12th brought the homeless and hungry child into camp so that she could beg left-overs.

   Sgt. Otman T. Rogers, Magazine, Ark., usually a flint-head of a mess sergeant, broke down at the picture of an Oriental-style "Little Orphan Annie" and treated her to the biggest and best meal of her short and hitherto uneventful life.
   He was gratified to note that she ate with gusto chow that his comrades-in-arms regarded with the familiar glassy stare.
   All in the same day, as soon as the news spread, Tobia was given a real old-fashioned scrubbing, turned over to the medics for inoculations, presented with the beginnings of an extensive wardrobe in the closest approximation of American "junior miss" fashion the men could find, and instructed in the rudiments of basic English.

   Now, after more than a year of G.I. life, Tobia is the "sweetheart of the group." She has never missed a roll call, albeit some days the weather and her feminine moods make her arrive somewhat tardy. Her health is perfect, and she is well on the way to becoming the best groomed young woman in the province of Bengal.
   The men of the organization keep her well supplied with jewelry and other fripperies.

G.I. Railroaders Solved Problem Of I-B Supply

   WASHINGTON (OWI) - The armies of China now are getting thousands of tons of war supplies every day over the longest supply line in military history - from America to Calcutta to Chungking - the War Department revealed this week.
   Since November 1944, when American railroad efficiency succeeded in opening up the chief bottleneck on the supply line in India - the Bengal and Assam railroad - the average monthly military shipments on the railroad alone have been increased from 90,000 tons monthly to 250,000 tons, a report from the Southeast Asia Command said.
   The War Department, in releasing the report, revealed a dramatic story of ingenuity and determination to keep materials moving into China in which reverse-lend lease played a prominent part with the British supplying the Americans with food and other necessities.

   It was the story of the U.S. Army's three-year struggle against torrential rains, extreme heat and widespread disease to get the railroad link in the China supply line operating at maximum efficiency.
   In that time the Army turned an uncertain meter gauge railroad into a modern streamlined, efficiently operated line to speed supplies via the India-Burma "backdoor."
   By agreement with the British, Americans with railroad experience took over the task of operating the line.
   The first thing the Americans did was to put Indian laborers alongside Army men so that they could learn American technique. American equipment was imported, efficient communications installed and tracks and sidings laid.
   As a sidelight it was revealed that Americans even showed the Indians how to get rid of the danger of tigers on the station platforms. They booby-trapped the beasts with grenades attached to the carcasses of goats.

500 TONS
   The average net supply tonnage per train was 250 before the Americans took over, the report said. By January 1945, this tonnage was doubled. Train lengths which had been 40 cars were increased to 80 and in some instances to 100 cars or more.
   The average speed was increased from 25 miles per hour to 45 miles. In addition to this, an average of nine passenger trains are operated daily instead of the customary three or four and, the report said, under American management the trains run on time.
   Since the first of the year this railroad, which is part of the vast organization of a Service of Supply for China activated by Lt. Gen. R. A. Wheeler, has been hauling the huge cargoes of war materials dumped on Calcutta's docks to the loading points for cargo planes. These planes are the last segment of the history making supply system.

Asphalt Roading Beats Monsoon In Calcutta Area

   CALCUTTA - A million square feet of asphalt roading, laid in the record time of 40 days, has literally lifted this area "out of the mud" during the monsoon season and has kept materials of war flowing over the supply line at its rapid pace through this section of the India-Burma Theater.
   The "Central Mix" station located in Calcutta and operated by the division engineers of the Base Section is the answer to this monsoon season.
   In previous years G.I. trucks and tractors grunted, groaned and strained in mud holes and gooey clay roads near Army warehouses and supply depots. The saving alone on wear and tear of equipment has reached a high figure.

   Machinery for the central mix station was being assembled in April of this year.

STRICTLY G.I.                By Ehret
"Well, to be truthful, sir, so I can get the jungle ration."
By May 1 the asphalt plant was producing ready-mixed asphalt and 40 work days later, some 45 projects were completed. Warerproofed roads have kept the monsoons from bogging down the supply line speed.
   Forty soldiers of an Engineer Special Service Battalion, under the supervision of Capt. H. S. Lynch, Des Moines, Iowa, have completed a million square feet of asphalt road, "blotter typed" another 200,000 square feet and poured concrete at innumerable installations and camps.
   Equipment, all coming direct from the sates, includes two hoppers, four cranes, a complete hot mix unit with double down dryer, hot sand loader and pug mill, a crushing and screening unit, three boilers, two finishing machines and innumberable trucks. Two transient mixers were redeployed from Italy. The plant covers nearly five acres and carries a stateside value of better than $150,000.

   The Barger-Green hot mix unit, the only one in the Theater, was the answer to the climatic conditions and is capable of pouring out asphalt at nearly 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Steaming hot asphalt is then dumped at Army camps and installations, some as far as 30 miles away.
   Gravel is delivered by rail to the yard from a gravel pit 150 miles from Calcutta. Asphalt likewise is brought in via rail. With the aid of cranes and 100 Indian women laborers, some 20 carloads of gravel are unloaded daily, while the men unload the heavy barrels of asphalt.
   A small force of coolies works nights, pouring asphalt into a 12,000 gallon tank, piped with a steam heating system which keeps the asphalt at a workable temperature for the following day.

British Awards To U.S. Officers

   BOMBAY - Two American officers were recently awarded honorary British medals for their part in fire-fighting and subsequent salvaging of valuable materials after the disastrous Bombay dock explosions in April 1944.
   Col. Richard W. Hocker, commander of U.S. Forces in Bombay at the time, was presented the Order of the British Empire. Lt. Col. Robert B. Farrow, second in command to Hocker, received the Medal of the British Empire.
   The citation commended the officers for their "untiring energy and marked zeal in co-ordinating the fire-fighting and salvaging efforts of the U.S. Forces with those of allied services."


   Maj. Gen. William "Wild Bill" Donovan's Office of Strategic Services was revealed this week as the organization that led the Kachin Rangers in their behind-the-line activities against the Japs in North and Central Burma. The announcement came from Theater Commander Lt. Gen. R. A. Wheeler.
   The Kachin Rangers, under the leadership of the OSS officers and men, cleared one 10,000-square-mile sector of the enemy without outside assistance. When the American and some of the Chinese forces were withdrawn from NCAC, the OSS men leading the Kachins were the only American ground force left in Burma.


Roundup Staff Writer
   The 199th Ordnance Battalion at APO 629 lays claim to one of the largest organizational War Bond contributions in this Theater. Recently, during a one-day campaign, personnel of the battalion bought $7,805 worth of bonds for the Seventh War Loan Drive. Capt. Kenneth Wellner, Bond officer, and his assistant, T/Sgt. John Hendrich, report the largest sale within the battalion came from a Negro Ordnance Company, members of which shelled out $2,100.

   G.I.'s at the 1351st AAF BU recently decided to throw a party, appointed Cpl. Francis Jacobs to make all arrangements. Days went by and Jacobs was seen making frequent phone calls and running to and fro. Finally, a fellow G.I. asked: "When d'ya think we'll have the party?"
   "It's hard to say," answered Jacobs evasively.
   "Where will we hold it?"    "That all depends," came the answer.
   "Gonna have any wimmin?"    "Maybe, but I'm not sure."
   "Well, what we gonna eat?"    "We might have steaks - if we can get 'em," said Jake.
   "Well, dammit," exclaimed the exasperated questioner, "how much is it gonna cost us?"
   "Oh, that's easy," Jacobs snapped. "It'll cost exactly two rupees, two annas apiece."

   The "overworked, underprivileged, under-ranked and constantly belittled" enlisted men Public Relations specialists of the Bengal Wing ICD-ATC at APO 433 have organized the Bengal Press Club "to offer its members solace in periods of persecution and to inform the world at large of the noble sacrifices they have been making in comparative anonymity." To be qualified, the PRO-wallah must be literate, must have at least one nightmare a week involving a demoniac Public Relations Officer, must have absolutely no hope of ever being promoted, and his first sergeant must despise him.
   A member may be suspended or expelled if he has committed any of the "following dastardly deeds: Been assigned full-time services of a jeep; written a story about his CO; received a by-line in either the Hump Express or the Roundup; or been promoted promisccusly." Vice-President: Cpl. Eliot Frankel, Sgt. Frank Clark and S/Sgt. Seymour Terry.

   Capt. Thomas F. Brosnan, Catholic Chaplain now on duty with the 305th Air Service Group, was recently awarded the Bronze Star Medal "for meritorious conduct in performance of his duties" in Assam and Burma.
   For more than a year, Chaplain Brosnan slogged his way around the jungles, holding services - for all denominations - wherever he found a few men.

(With Apologies to the
Late John Masefield)

I must go down to Delhi again
To see all the WAC's and the WAF's
And all I ask is a ten-day leave
And some travel time perhaps.
And the wind will blow
And the Scotch will flow
And the chow will be steak - not Spam
And the sack will be soft
And the floor not dirt -
If I'm late, who gives a damn?
I must go down to Delhi again
Where there's no such thing as mud
Where the streets are paved
And the men are shaved
And the girls are as many as men
And all I ask is a long, cool drink,
And a pretty girl by my side.
And a long goodbye, and a drawn-out sigh
As I take The Road in stride.

How sleep the lads 'neath alien palm,
Safe at last from hate and harm?
Do thoughts of home assail them now,
When dust lies heavy on each brow?
When the fields are green next spring,
And lovers lorn their baskets bring,
Will their souls with anguish sear,
Pine for loves of yester year?
When heroic garlands crown,
The lads returned to farm and town.
Will some kindly Eastern fay
On their graves rosemary lay?
When the course of war has run,
And peace returns from sun to sun,
Will they know, the matchless brave,
How fares the land they died to save?
Above is the new commandant of the Women's Army Corps, Col. Westray Battle Boyce, 43, of Rocky Mount, N.C. Col Boyce was former WAC deputy director.

Yep, Joe was a card, a pilot, hot,
And boy could he fly a plane!
When Joe flew by, the crowd would cry.
"We're in for a show again."
Old Joe would rack that fighter up,
And roll it with a flip;
For the boys all knew when e'er Joe flew
He'd always buzz the strip.
Yes, he'd beat it up from end to end,
Each time before he's land.
And we knew his story of shining glory,
Joe, the paddle foots Superman.
Well Joe one day was in his prime
And he wheeled and dealed his ship,
We all could tell Joe'd raise all hell
Today, when he buzzed the strip.
He rolled her over at angels ten,
Heading down with full-on power.
And he passed us by at two feet high
Doing 500 miles an hour.
Joe was a character through and through;
He flew at an awful clip.
But he failed to see a big old tree
Today when he buzzed the strip.
There were nuts and bolts and chunks of tin
From here to Timbuktu.
But the biggest chunk in all that junk
Would fit in a G.I. shoe.
For the boys who crave to be like Joe
We raise in large bold script,
A sign which said, "One down, one dead -
Take care - he buzzed the strip."
You can have your loops and your tree-top rolls
And your immelmans off the deck;
You can have the name, acclaim and fame,
And the stuntman's full respect.
But as for me, ten years from now,
When I'm out on a picnic trip.
I'll be in the know by recalling Joe
And the day he buzzed the strip.


   In an informal sports carnival Sunday, Delhi athletes played at Agra in the first of a series of inter-camp events. Delhi scored impressive victories in golf and tennis, the major two sports, and came home with enthusiastic praise for the marvelous reception given them by the Agra hosts.
   Bruce Campbell shattered par with a neat 65 to lead all golfers in the links play (no player was worse than 83) and Johnny Goodman former U.S. Open and Amateur champion fired a 69 for the Delhi divot-diggers. Team scores showed Delhi ahead, 18½ to 8½.
   The tennis contests were swept by the visitors without the loss of a set. Agra's swimmers gave an impressive exhibition in great style, their rifle team triumphed and the horseshoe and badminton contests were about even.


   CALCUTTA - Four thousand Allied servicemen and guests packed Calcutta's Monsoon Square Garden July 25th, to witness one of the finest boxing shows staged here. Three TKO's highlighted the fast ten-bout fistic program.
   Jesse Dean, the Tezgaon Terror, and All-India heavyweight champion, decisively defeated game Carol Smith, Lahmanghat, in the featured event on the night's schedule. Dean won easily scoring with either hand at will in all three rounds.
   One of the most thrilling bouts was a welterweight attraction between Johnny Campinha, Ledo and Lloyd Johnson, Mohanbari, Assam. Plenty of action was provided by both boys, Campinha scoring repeatedly with left hooks to the body and a right cross to the head, while Johnson was using his left jab to great advantage.
   Results of preliminaries were: Lewis Jackson, Ledo, received the judges' decision over Angus Smith, Ledo; Ralph Williams, Ledo, won on a TKO in the second over A. Armstrong, Calcutta Golden Gloves; Bill Matthews, Ledo, decisioned Wayne Simmons, Ledo; Johnny Campinha, Ledo, decisioned Lloyd Johnson, Assam; Francis Gantt, Calcutta, decisioned George Holten, Tezgaon; Benny Flake, Ledo decisioned Jimmy Smith, Assam; George Evans, Ledo, won on a TKO in the second over over Eddie Hall, Tezgaon; Velmond White, Assam, won on a decision over Charlie Fields, Ledo; and George Sheppard, Ledo, a TKO in the second over Jimmy Kennis, Burma.


Osmosis’ Sad Tale
Of Missing Stripes

 By T/7 OSMOSIS FINK   The Poor Man's Joe Miller

   It has drifted into old Os' fluttering ears that people are making snide remarks about his being a lowly T/7. These glance lightly off his delicate sense of pride as do arrows off the sides of the USS Iowa. For old Os', he'll have you know, sub, was not always a T/7.
   Time was in his Army career when your correspondent was a technical sergeant. If there are any doubters in the crowd, he'll wager his post-war apple stand corner against yours. But let us continue with the tragic story of how he lost his stripes, rockers and all. Time's awastin'.
   Through the vageries of the Classification System old Os' discovered himself assigned to Public Relations duty after he had completed basic training in the Infantry.
   "I guess they just didn't know where else to place you," wearily explained the PRO lieutenant to whom old Os' reported. "Confidentially, I used to have the magazine and pin-ball concession at a bowling alley in Schenectady."
   The lieutenant's shocking frankness, I learned later, resulted in his being ordered before a Reclassification Board. But when he proved he never seen the inside of a newspaper office, he was promptly promoted to the rank of major in Public Relations and awarded the Legion of Merit.
   Meanwhile, old Os' learned the ricks of the trade. From one stripe, he progressed to two, then three and finally just before being shipped overseas, he won his first rocker.
   His overseas boss - a slick captain from Miami who used to reap a harvest selling $25 hand-painted ties to tourists from New York - grew attached to old Os', who discreetly informed war correspondents that his peerless leader used to be on Drew Pearson's payroll, "but don't breathe a word about it because he may lose his post-war position."
   Your scribe's assignment was Supervisor Of Generals' Pictures, a lush berth which kept him fairly busy but still afforded him sufficient time in which to read the Superman Comics which arrived daily for the edification of the various members of the PRO section.
   The job became routine. Generals came and generals went, but old Os' flowed on like Tennyson's Brook. When one general pinned a medal on another, he was as much a part of the scene as the Adjutant who mumbled through the citation and the staggered line of colonels who gallantly sucked in their tummys for the occasion. Old Os' fussed with the photographer, got everyone's first names and promised the general a number of 8x10 glossy prints as soon as the lab could turn them out. It was a sweet racket.
   Finally, he was promoted to tech sergeant. But by this time the novelty of his sinecure had worn thin. In the early reaches of the night, he dreamed troubled dreams of medal-pinning ceremonies in which he misspelled the general's name or, worse, the photographer forgot to pull the slide.
   The crashing climax came one night after he had tossed off two plates of Indian curry, washed down by a bottle of Highland Sandy which a discerning second lieutenant had given him in exchange for three pin-up pictures of Jane Russell. The dream was the most frightening of all. Two generals were scheduled to pin medals on one another's chests simultaneously. It was the climatic episode in the PRO's career. Old Os' woke up screaming, drenched in cold perspiration.
   The next day old Os' deliberately committed the most henous crime in PRO annals. He consoled a war correspondent after the Censor had blue-penciled his copy and observed loudly, for all to hear, that the PRO and the Censor were probably in cahoots.
   Naturally, it was not long before old Os' lost his stripes.
   As further punishment, he was assigned to the Roundup.

The Roundup is a weekly newspaper of the United States Forces, published by and for the men in Burma and India, from news and pictures supplied by staff members, soldier correspondents, Army News Service and United Press. The Roundup is published Thursday of each week and is printed by The Statesman in New Delhi and Calcutta, India. Editorial matter should be sent directly to Major Floyd Walter, Hq., U.S.F., I.B.T., APO 885, New York, N.Y., and should arrive not later than Saturday in order to be included in that week's issue. Pictures must arrive by Friday and must be negatives or enlargements. Stories should contain full name and organization of sender. Complaints about circulation should be sent directly to Capt. Drexel Nixon, Base Section APO 465, New York, N.Y. Units on the mailing list should make notification of any major change in personnel strength or any change of APO.

AUGUST  2,  1945

Adapted from the original issue of India-Burma Theater Roundup

Copyright © 2015 Carl Warren Weidenburner