Hellbird Herald
Vol. 1,   No. 2                                           PASSED BY BASE CENSOR,  APO 220  (Piardoba, India)                                           20 February, 1945
Miss Alison Coady
Red Cross Contest Winner

  Presenting - Miss G-Eyefull !
  She's sweet looking, intelligent, athletic, musically inclined and a "wonderful dancer," and her name is Miss Alison Coady, of Monument Beach, Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Yes, she's the winner of the recent "Most Perfect Sweetheart" contest, conducted by the Red Cross Girls of APO 220.
  Ranking highest of the many photos submitted by fellows from all over the Field, more than mere prettiness (which she is plentifully blessed with) was taken into consideration. The "Most Perfect Sweetheart" had to express, through her photo, a multitude of values, among which could be expressed compassion, intelligence, and the quality summed up by the word "regular." That her picture is an accurate measure of her personality was indicated when Sgt. Charles Tucy, of the 69th, who had submitted the prize-winning photograph, described her qualities. "She's a good basketball player, fine pianist and a wonderful dancer," he said, "She's also a graduate of Salem State Teacher's College, in Salem, Massachusetts."
  Miss Connie Asencio, Red Cross Club Director, presented, as the prize, six sterling silver teaspoons, with six different animals typical of India sculptured on the handles.


  What's in a name?
  The former "Red Rudder" is now called the "Hellbird Herald," as a better tie in with our Group name, but "by any other name" it is still the official newspaper of APO 220.
  Cartoons, fiction, features, preferably centering about activities at Hellbird Haven (APO 220 to you) are solicited.

Minstrel Show
In Rehearsal

  Gentlemen, be seated !
  With the traditional opening cry of the interlocutor, the huge Minstrel Show, now under advanced preparation, will soon offer you the best APO 220 has to offer in the way of talent - dancers, singers, variety acts and skits, all tied into a smooth running continuity, under the direction of Miss Romaine Root, ARC program director.
  The Base Jive Band, under Cpl. Joe Rulli's leadership, will furnish the musical background for many of the numbers. The problem of instruments having finally been solved, the Band has been holding regular practice sessions, and is ready to blossom forth any day in various entertainment functions about the Field.
  A feature of the Minstrel Show will be the harmonies of a Minstrel Singing Group. Talented script writers are busy these days thinking up new versions of the "Who was that lady I seen you walkin' down the street with last night" - Hyuh, hyuh - that wasn't no street, that was an avenue" gags. Lord help us.
  Seriously, its shaping up into a great show, and men with outstanding talents are invited to see Miss Romaine Root at the Rajah Dodger Lodge, to discuss a spot in the show, or future shows.


    The Hellbird Theatre, after presenting in quick succession, the extremely popular Lily Pons - Andre Kostelanetz show, a E.N.S.A Ballet Troupe, and "Funzafire" brightly MC'd by Benny Meroff, well known Chicago comic, wound up its first month with a sultry presentation of "Rhythm and de Blues" the first All-Negro troupe to visit the IBT.
  A hit of the "Funzafire" show was the famous tramp-bicyclist act of Joe Jackson, Jr., which brought many fellows who had seen him at the New York World's Fair, and at the Broadway "Icecapades," back to the atmosphere of big-time show business. And then - there was Miss Kahlean McLaughling, than whom there is no lovelier, who appeared on the stage throughout the show in various capacities: as assistant to Benny Meroff (her husband, and how did he do it, what's he got that I ain't got, etc.), as Magician's assistant (Jack Gwynne was his name, but who was looking at him?) and brought with her every appearance, a low meaningful chorus of sighs and low whistles from the GIs sitting so near and yet so far."
  A high spot was provided for the show by lively, midget Charles Mariano, billed as the "Great Lover," when he leaped into the arms of Miss Connie Asencio, Red Cross Director, who happened to be sitting in the first row.
  The later show, "Rhythm and the Blues" featured the dancing of famous Taps Miller, with a hot display on the trumpet, the torrid manner and liquid singing of Mae Gaddy, and the husky, forceful songs of the troupe's manager, Alberta Hunter. Allie Cranford, guitarist, Leonard Caster, pianist, and Alfred Elkins, hot bass player, gave out with the type of jive which the hep-hounds of Hellbird Haven ate up joyfully.

Col. Kalberer Can Prove :

 By Sgt. Eugene I. Boyo

    The Colonel's eyes were lit up with the enthusiasm he always shows when he talks of the subjects closest to his heart, the Bomb Group and the Superfortress. "I can prove," he said, "that the Hellbird Group is the finest Bombardment Group in the world. Figures I have readily accessible, show that our outfit has the best record in the XX Bomber Command; the XX Bomber Command is the ranking command of the 20th Air Force, and the 20th Air Force's record is the finest in all the United States Army Air Forces. Since no one can dispute the leadership of the U.S. Army Air Forces over all other air forces in the world," he leaned back proudly, "therefore, the Hellbird Group is the best in the world."
  Colonel Kalberer presented an arresting picture as he spoke. His gestures, the intonation of his voice, his complete manner, revealed a deep sincere love for things aeronautical that dates back to his adolescence.
Colonel Alfred F. Kalberer

  It was during the midst of the "Roaring Twenties" that Alfred F. Kalberer abandoned a medical career to attend flying school at Brooks and Kelly Fields in San Antonio, Texas. Even at this early date he was no stranger to altitudinous achievement. For this was the heyday of the Flying Jenny, the crate that fathered so man of our air pioneers.
  Upon completion of his training at Brooks and Kelly, where one of his instructors was Gen. Chennault, the a First Lieutenant, he was transferred to Selfridge Field where he became a member of the famed First Pursuit Squadron, under the command of Major Royce. At that time the hottest plane in the air was the Curtis Hawk, with a 450 horsepowered engine, a top speed of 160 miles per hour, and, as the Colonel wryly comments, "no brakes."
  But flying in the peacetime army was too tame, and he went on inactive status to make the first aerial advertising tour throughout the United States, Canada and Mexico for the General Tire Company. At the tour's completion, he began to fly the mail for National Air Transportation, predecessors to the United Air Lines.
  The hand that handled the stick with such finesse, proved quite adept with the pen also, and the by-line "Alfred F. Kalberer" appeared in many of our publications. Feeling a need for new material to supply his ever growing literary market, the Colonel resigned from the airline in the middle 30's and went to Holland to fly for the KLM Royal Dutch Air Lines.
  As a pilot, he flew the longest run in the world, from Europe to the East Indies, and his jaunty, military figure became a familiar sight in the capitals of the continent, from Paris to Baghdad, from Budapest to London.
  Prior to the march of the German Juggernaut into Poland, Col. Kalberer had occasion to travel through the Reich many times. He noticed, with growing apprehension, their efficiently organized military machine, the simplicity and excellence of their equipment, and above all, their acceptance of the inevitability of war.
  On the black day that Germany catapulted the world into a maelstrom of misery, Col. Kalberer was in Rangoon. Unable to follow his usual route, he flew to Naples, and then retraced his path three times before managing to return to Holland.
  Once there, he embarked on a very unusual adventure, flying his passengers to some neutral city, herding them across wartime Germany by train, and ending up in the then neutral port of Naples.
  But Holland was on Hitler's list, and upon advice of the American consul, the Colonel left and moved to Italy where he basked quietly under the Mediterranean sun for three months.
  The peaceful period proved to be but a momentary interlude. As the fall of France became apparent, Italy began to beat her chest and make threatening motions. Just prior to Italy's entrance, the Colonel received a tip to that effect from a friend of his, a Colonel in the Italian Air Force, and he hastily left for the East Indies.
  Once there he resumed flying for the East Indian division of the Dutch Air Lines and made the acquaintance of several Japanese pilots who flew for the Japanese line between Tokyo and Bangkok. The Colonel refers to them as "tough and capable" flyers.
  While in Saigon one of his Nipponese friends warned him of the approaching war between the United States and Japan. Col. Kalberer was skeptical but he nevertheless left from Manila by clipper late in November, 1941, and arrived back in San Francisco.
  He was driving across the country when news of the attack on Pearl Harbor reached him. The very next day, he returned to active status as a First Lieutenant.
  His first thirty days of the war were as a Ferry Command pilot, his job being to analyze and write a book covering the terrain, weather, radio aids, airdromes, inhabitants, and money in all countries between Alexandria, Egypt, to Sydney, Australia.
  At the completion of this job Colonel Kalberer returned to the combat front, joining Colonel Halverson's Group of B-24's which started on a special mission to China but never reached there.
  Halfway around the world, in the Middle East, the Group stopped to smash at the Ploesti Oil Fields, by order from Washington.
  This was the first strike of American manned, American serviced planes, on the "Fortress Europe." Thirteen Liberators, then an unknown quantity in combat, started. Five were forced to land in Turkey, and only four returned to the original base. Col. Kalberer was one of the fortunate ones.
  The battle for North Africa had settled to a conflict of supply. It was decided that the B-24's would be of more use in harassing enemy shipping in that Theatre, and Col. Halverson and his group remained.
  Not long after this, Col. Kalberer led a small force of eight Liberators and some British Beaufighters in a daredevil attack on the Italian fleet. They sank a cruiser, damaged two battleships, and drove the fleet into the harbor of Torrento, from which it never emerged until the surrender.
  This would have been considered a military career by many men, but Col. Alfred Kalberer had still greater fields to conqueror. For the story of a super-bomber, to be the largest in the world, and with the latest equipment, began to travel the grapevine route. When rumor became fact, Col. Kalberer refused a soft desk job in Washington to come to India with the XX Bomber Command.
  On one of our early missions, we were unfortunate in losing our Commanding Officer, Col. Richard H. Carmichael, But Alfred F. Kalberer, his very close friend and immediate subordinate, picked up the reins and has been carrying them ever since.
  No mere words can describe the dynamic energy of the man. Soft spoken and reserved, he gives the impression of tremendous reserves of power. We, the members of the best Bomb Group in the world, salute him as "Number One Hellbird."

This Week's Hellbird

    The Crew Chief with one of the finest records to date on this Field, is this week's Hellbird. S/Sgt. Charles L. Langlin, of the 69th Engineering, has led his crew to this lead position, having a ship which has made more combat missions, and less "abortions" than any other ship on the Field.
  S/Sgt. Langlin's home town is Livermore, Maine, where he was in the construction business until October 15, 1942, when he came into the army at Fort Devens, Massachusetts. After attending Airplane Mechanic's School at Amorilla, Texas and being a graduate in March of '43, he went to the Boeing Superfortress School at Seattle, Washington. From there he went to Marietta, Georgia to work at the Bell Plant; and came in early 1943 to Walker Army Air Field, Kansas and the 67th Bomb Squadron.
  His comment upon being told he had been chosen by a committee as Hellbird of the week, was, "My swell crew deserves the credit."


    Have you visited with your pals in the Hospital lately? Have you seen our Red Cross Building on one of those informal afternoons or evenings? We invite your inspection, friend or no. If you've been postponing that long needed rest, or that medical attention which just didn't seem pressing enough, don't let the word "Hospital" scare you.
  Besides expert medical care and good-looking nurses, we offer you the latest in movies and varied activities at the Recreation Building of the Red Cross. A library, which besides the usual books, provides a quiet, becurtained, berugged atmosphere in which to read them, a music room equipped with a new victrola and some "long-haired" records for music lovers, as well as a kitchen productive of good coffee and deliciously creamy ice cream, are only some of the advantages of being ill. If your proclivities approach the more active variety, there are two ping pong tables, a badminton court, and shortly there will be a shuffle board and horseshoes to help you wile away those long hours of recuperation. A brand new piano recently arrived from the States; likewise a small organ and plenty of sheet music make available that opportunity so long sought by the "creative and expressive" GIs in our midst. For the men whose creative impulses find expression in more tangible ways, there is a Work Shop boasting complete equipment for clay modeling, fly tying, carpentry, wood carving, lathe work, painting, sketching, block printing, weaving and objects of plexiglass and tin. We repeat, don't let the word "Hospital" scare you. - Miss Harriet Bookstaver

    The pictures above give an impression of the shows which enlivened APO 220 during the month after the opening of the New theatre. Officers and Enlisted Men, long lacking first-rate entertainment showed their appreciation for the various talents of the visiting artists by salvoes of enthusiastic applause.
  "This is only the beginning, fellows - Yes only the-e-e beginning!" A variety of high caliber troupes are being booked for future Hellbird entertainment.

Hellbird Theatre to Feature Musical Comedy

    Shortly to arrive at APO 220 is the Musical Comedy, "Over and Back." No - not from Broadway, but Stateside in every other respect, it is an original comedy in two acts; Major Melvyn Douglas' Entertainment Production Unit No. 4.
  The story, based on characters created by Command Post's T/7 Hank Gould is the saga of Hank and his bearer Abdul from the time Hank and his outfit set foot in the "land of mystery" up to the thrilling moment of departure.
  Among the show's highlights is said to be the "Yippe, Yippe, Yea" number in which the entire cast participates. In this scene, a soldier dreams of his Kansas home, his girl, and even a real honest to goodness square dance is brought before the footlights. This is only one of the musical sequences, says the advance notice, which make "Over and Back" a riot of color.
  Sgt. Bill Post and co-author Pvt. Royal Dano have written seven original songs for the production, which GIs will be humming for some time. Fifteen GIs comprise the cast. Each man appears in at least three different roles. Besides being the writer of the musical comedy, Sgt. Bill Post is also an excellent baritone, who lends his lusty voice to the play, to its advantage.


    It might be a cabaret in the States, from the impression you receive as you walk into the club and step up to the bar, but it's the Cabaret for first three graders, the NCO Club in its new location out 'on the Line." It offers you the soft lights, music, fine foods, and a relaxing atmosphere.
  Much expense was involved in making the new improvements, according to Group Sgt./Major Kokot, president of the club. Under the management of genial M/Sgt. Cornelius O'Shea, the club boasts a fine restaurant capably supervised by the club secretary, T/Sgt. Robert Worly. Popular music is furnished by an electric phonograph with custom-built sound. Other officers of the club, who were instrumental in achieving the fine results are the vice-president, T/Sgt. Hamrick and the treasurer, T/Sgt. Barnal.
  Much of the sense of fine taste which is part of the atmosphere of the club can be attributed to the set of beautiful murals, unexcelled in originality and design which were created and painted above the bar by the Group Draftsman, cheery Sgt. Fred B. Maar.

  A good way back to the States! Become an accountant, but quick! Write S/Sgt. Lester Katz, now in Shangri-La, for information.
  M/Sgt. Mac Randolph gets letters frequently from a certain little lady, who is now in the WAC. Asked his opinion about Pvt. T. R., he gazes off into space, whispers softly, "Wow."
  S-3 looms again in the news! M/Sgt. Wenner (2 Gun) Rotkin had a bet on with Cpl. "Lightfoot Willie" Jarmon that he (2 Gun) could put 15 shots out of 20 into the bulls-eye on the range. Jarmon is ahead Rs. 5.
  The following is the first in a series of "Headquarters Personalities," which will be selected by a committee of one, for a short sketch about his life, ambition, capacity for beer, etc.:
  M/Sgt. Elmer Brethauer... Bret as he's known to the guys of Hq., hails from McKees Rock, Pa. ... He was born there back in '17... Bret graduated from high school in 1936 and from there started working in the Steel Mills... He soon was promoted to Time Clerk and worked three years on the 5th of January... Bret is married and has a fine seven month old baby girl, whom he has never seen... The Personnel Section is Bret's office. He's done a fine job in Group and still is, as shown by his work and a recent promotion ... Lots of luck to M/Sgt. Elmer Brethauer...

  The cinema has its Eddie Bracken, but the 68th has its own in the person of Leo McDermott. Hailing from the Windy City, our "Mac" can find himself in more precarious precarious predicaments than a dozen Brackens. His latest involves a little gal named Hilda.
  No boys, it ain't rumor, its the truth, so help me. Cpl. Charlie Walters, the boy who gave us "Hellbirds" raffled off that quart of White Label Scotch to the highest bidder. Says Walt, "I'm on the Wagon."
  Back from the dark hole of Calcutta recently, Sgt. Nolan and Cpl. Nasalroad. Exclamation from "Jigger" Nolan - "Gosh, them Chinese girls are so - er -ah - friendly.
  Seems that Leo Hensen has a helluva time staying put on a theater bench. Could be that Texan Hitchman has a hand in that!
  Have you seen the latest pictures making the rounds of the Squadron? Our boy Eddie Scatchell sure is popular with the women, eh Scatchell?
  Robert M - who was the gal I saw you with at the Lily Pons show? Gettin' to be a regular Rajah Dodger Commando, ain't yah?
  What's happened - no rumors from E. Coutts these last few days. Maybe there's a coffee shortage at the Carpenter Shop, where the Gears have coffee hour every morning. - Cpl. Hoppe

  Highlight of the week:
  Capt. McDowell, Lt. Jaffe and Pfc. Carson returned from their hunting expedition. Result - one panther skin, treated by the taxidermist.
   - Corporals George Willis and Ray Riffe for their swell job during the Xmas mail rush, and the many nights they worked overtime.
   - "Rock" Gallman and his baseball team for their 18-0 victory over the Bomb Group "All Star" team.
   - Alvin Kemp and the basketball team for their tune-up 29-20 victory over the 68th.
   - The forty-four Privates who were promoted to Pfc. Guess it will take an act of Congress to get we Corporals promoted to Sergeant - Attention: 79th Congress.
   - S/Sgt. John Quinlan who is enroute to the United States to attend Military Police OCS at Fort Custer, Michigan. He was a copper in civie life, too!
   - A certain Pfc. in the motor pool who threatens the mail clerk because his girl isn't writing him. Cheer up Reo, she has found a man. - Cpl. G. Galluccio

  Base Finance is still hanging on at its usual office on Wall Street, now minus its T/Sgt. John Delaney, who has left us because of sickness. Pfc. Clarence Hayes returned from rest camp enthusiastic about the female population (European) in the vicinity of the camp, and Captain Dunn has gone to the camp in search of - rest.
  The boys on the base seem to be looking to the end of the war, if savings are any indication. More money is being sent home each month, via PTA (Personal Transfer Account), and more is being put into Soldiers' Deposits with its 4% interest. Many, too, are taking advantage of Uncle Sam's No. 1 bargain - War Bonds. There'll come a day when we'll need every cent of it.

  Perhaps one of the most essential and yet least mentioned of a military organization is a mess section. Under the leadership of T/Sgt. Swatty and 1st cooks, Sergeants Burke, Stewart, Molpus and Levine, the 70th mess personnel have been producing many tasty meals under the handicap of extremely overcrowded conditions.
  The newly lighted basketball court adjacent to the orderly room should provide much thrilling basketball in the near future.
  With the late holiday mail rush finally diminishing, Mail Clerk, Cpl. Troyanowski and assistants are enjoying a much deserved rest.
  Now it can be told - M/Sgt. Roosevelt Williamson, better known as "Snake" and his faithful bearer "Hindu" may well be envied. Living in a two tent suite on the line, furnished not unlike a modern apartment such delicacies as duck and chicken dinners, hamburgers and ice cream are in the offing. Yes, Snake is bearing up well under the pangs of war.
  Among the many industrious squadron personnel many commendable stories might well be revealed. One such modest, yet highly commendable individual is Operations Chief, T/Sgt. Henry Cantu.

  About the only resemblance to active living around these parts is the reconditioning program for patients. Nowadays, not even the near sick are spared the agony of listening to the monotonous tones of one T/5 Michael V. (Perfect Specimen) Jundt, as he chants "By The Numbers - Hut, two - "
  Between full knee bends and the side straddle hop, each patient firmly resolves that come tomorrow he'll ask for a discharge. Then a quick trip to the Red Cross and coffee and he knows as how he won't get well quite so quickly.
  The Officers and Enlisted Men (nurses invited however) have started playing off the bedpan Series in softball. Original plans were to have the series run indefinitely; but it looks mighty like it will be nipped in the bud, since the doctors can't stand the strain. Rumor has it, however that the brass hats of the pill-rolling aggregation are working on a scheme to saddle all the charley-horses and nightmares. Good idea, me thinks, if it works.
  The Hospital PX, which usually looks like the corner drug, what with its cakes, beer and odds-and-ends for nurses only, certainly changed in appearance the other night. It looked more like the "Last Chance Saloon" in a coal mining town in West Virginia. All rations were gathered up to be used before expiration date. many a beer flowed down the hatch and the next morning only the walls were left; and, of course, the odds and ends for nurses only.
  Yes, its a quiet life around the hospital - even for patients. - Sgt. Broome

  Referring back to page one, last issue - I stand ready to contradict the statement made by the 68th F/Sgt. I'm sure he meant well, but he's slightly off the beam. he's going to break an arm patting himself on the back. I merely offer a contradiction, I will not make any boasts. I will say that ten of our Tea-totalers will out-drink any fifty of his men. Bring your own booze, Sad Saints. Warning: We've been awarded the Blue Flamers Citation, direct from Joe Donzi, Hqs.
  As for the Fightinest, well, contact our front man Killer Doyle, and for Engineeringest, well...
  Undoubtedly our Squadron insignia has been noticed by the majority of the personnel on the Base. It has a story and meaning: it represents the work being done by the 49th. The idea for the insignia was submitted and painted by S/Sgt. Donald P. Dodge, also known as Granite Puss, Stone Age and Chisel Visage. Granite Puss is now doing a mural of slick chicks in the mess hall. he is being assisted by Pfc. Ken T. Fogelberg, whom we also refer to as Lynch, Mallet Haid and Clamclutch. Ken also assisted Dodge with the big mural at the Rajah Dodger Lodge.
  Pfc. Glass and Cpl. Gates have decided to settle it once and for all. Both have agreed that no holds be barred and that the Marcus of Queensbury Rules will not be applied in this case.
  Who's the Sergeant in the hangar that goes around washing officers' coffee cups?
  Have you heard of the good-will tour that our man J. Yurk personally conducted at an Allied Base recently?
  Suggest that the C.O. give every man in his organization a promotion for a Christmas present. The morale of the 49th is exceptionally high. There's not a man in the Squadron who gives an R.A. for anything.
  Bachelor: "What do you prefer in a husband - brains, money or appearance?"
  Young Lady: "Appearance. And the sooner the better." - Pfc. K. K. Yace

  QM & TRK has been complemented on their splendid work as a truck company. The boys are really on the ball. They keep those trucks rolling day and night, under any and all conditions and always have a smile ready when called upon for duty.
  Our Day Room combined with a PX builds morale. After duty hours our PX is always crowded with EM sipping beer and cokes and admiring the beautiful pin-up girls on the walls.
  We are forming ping-pong and basketball teams, which we hope will become aces. Our Volleyball team is still in tip-top shape and ready to accept more challengers. We are also forming a football team and our baseball team is still considered No. 1.
  Our CO is now so pleased with our work that he is giving Pfc. ratings. Here's wishing all the boys luck that receive them.
  Our company G.O. Club is losing some of its members, since the "CO's Dreamer" has gotten on the ball, at last.
  What mechanic always seems to have twice as many tools as the other mechanics at inventory time? - Cpl. Darnley E. Scale.

Duane Valentry


    Miss Duane Valentry, late of the Red Cross Club, "Rajah Dodger Lodge" is no longer at APO 220. As part of the original four Red Cross girls to come to this Field, Miss Valentry brought her talents as a singer and songwriter to effective use in impromptu entertainments.
  The men of APO 220 wish Miss Valentry success wherever she may be stationed in the future.
  The Peace which Death is wining new
  Will not be lightly turned aside,
  And though, with blase, smug, smug pride,
  To be a thing rightly ours, always ours, easily ours -
  But, something fought for, something won,
  Something precious, partly done,
  Not completed, not forever -
  All too quickly, strife forgotten,
  Peace, the fragile, trembling,
  On the twisting unbalance
  Of man's vaunted reason, is broken, lost,
  And then, too late, is treasured.

  - Cpl. Robert G. Baird



    In the darkness, men shifted uneasily, whispering terse phrases. Anxious eyes peered from windows, stabbing vainly into the Indian night.
  "God, why doesn't he come back" someone groaned.
  "They've got him - that's why - " another replied, "I told you he'd never make it."
  "Shut up!" The sergeant's voice rang out. "He's got to make it! Our whole plan depends on him."
  "Look!" A watcher rasped at the window, "I see something."
  They all crowded the windows and looked out into the steaming jungle, spotted with filtered moonlight. "Where, man, where?" They stared up the trail where Jim had disappeared so long ago, when, with lumps in every throat, they had returned his final jaunty salute. He had volunteered for this mission that no one believed possible of accomplishment. It had grown hotter, more sultry, and with the coming darkness had developed at first apprehension, then outright fear, as even the faintest hopes disappeared.
  A lizard skittered across the dry ceiling and taut nerves amplified the sound to the volume of hoofbeats in a stampede.
  "I can't stand it any longer - I'm going after him - " A dark figure started for the door.
  "Don't be a fool - Nobody else would have a chance!" yelled the sergeant, as others grabbed the desperate soldier's arms and hurled him back into the room.

  Turning from his window, the sergeant surveyed the shadowy forms surrounding him. He knew, now, that he must tell them. Struggling to keep his voice even, he began, "Men I'm afraid they've caught Jim, and you all know what that means. No one else can possibly get through. Will have to face it without - "
  "Someone's coming!" The voice of the keen-eyed watcher electrified them. Presently a figure emerged from a palm cluster, ran a few yards and threw himself into the inky blackness of a lush overhang of tropical growth. In an instant he was away for another few yards - then down again.
  "I think he's got it - Look, under his arm!" The words rang within them as Jim suddenly broke into a final run, crossed the clearing and fell through the hastily opened door.
  Eager hands picked him up. "Jim, boy, you made it - Thank God. Are you all right?" The sergeant's voice shook.
  "Yes, I'm okay - " Jim's voice came from between panting spurts of breath. "They almost caught me - But, I got it. I got the ice from the Mess Hall - Now we can make that ice cream."

Smokey Takes A Furlough

  By Sgt. Jack Shelton

    Ever since the beginning of the present "invasion" of India by GI Joe, the native bearer has been a source of wonder and amusement. A bearer, familiar sight among American troops in India is a combination valet and maid, who for a few cents a day relieves the enlisted men of the terrifying duties of keeping a barracks clean. For a few more cents, he also washes clothes, shines shoes, and otherwise helps make a perfectly lazy man out of a soldier. These domestic duties are only part of the value of an Indian bearer, for the affords one of the few amusements readily available in this part of the world.
  Our bearer's name is "Smokey." We've forgotten why we call him that, but there are no objections, since his real name is "Pabitra Mondel." Aside from his regular duties, Smokey spends most of his time learning GI ways. His indoctrination came along a little too quickly, for Smokey came to work one day and surprised us all with an ultimatum.
  "Tomorrow - Go Away. Four days - one day go - one day come back - go six days - come back - Go to - ." The town mentioned was only about forty miles away, and two days travel time seemed a little exorbitant. But remembering our own stretching of that wonderful institution, travel time, we were inclined to be most lenient.
  "Okay, Smokey," we said (after calling a hurried meeting of the bearer committee), "have a nice time."
  Arrangements were made to have Smokey's place taken by his brother (all bearers have three or four brothers conceived for just such situations) and off he trotted.
  We struggled along for six days with Smokey's brother, who shall remain nameless, having been assigned a name a little on the unprintable side. On the evening of the seventh day, we were sitting on our palatial fox-holed
lawn, when off in the distance we could see Smokey, a bundle in his hand, a broad grin on his face, trotting towards us. He gave us all a big hello, paused long enough to make certain we saw his semi-annual hair cut, and then began to unpack. He pulled a leather utility bag out of his bundle (with talon zipper) and opening it with terrific haste, displayed two books. One was a primer on the English Alphaber, and the other an elementary reader in English. Our troubles had now begun.
  "Sahib - Bird, Sahib - Cow, Sahib - House, Sahib - ABCDEFY," and so it goes all day. Smokey is learning English. Things have changed in our barracks. No longer does Smokey roam around picking up cigarette butts and trash. No longer does Smokey sweep the porch. Smokey is learning English.
  Hour after hour Smokey sits on the porch and reads and mumbles to himself. Just try and sit down to read the latest magazine from home - just try it. Smokey edges up, sits down next to you (Smokey is very democratic that way), whips out his primer, and start, "ABCDEFY." Tiring of this new elementary lesson, he fingers the book you are desperately trying to read and pointing to the pictures, says, "Lady, Bird, American, Truck, Good, Bad" and so on. Not being content with dazzling us, Smokey invites a couple dozen of his brothers over, and reads to them.
  It may seem like the old days to the fathers in the barracks, reminding them of the good old days when their little angel pulled at their pants leg, and said sweetly, "Daddy, what's this? Daddy what's that? Daddy look bird." But to most of us it's a little annoying to come home from work and find our was still undone, and Smokey reading the dialogues of Plato to his brothers.
  I don't think Smokey will get any more furloughs.


    Cpl. Bob Baird of Group Headquarters, whose baritone singing has been heard at many base entertainments, as well as during the recent Pons-Kostelanetz show, recently visited APO 465 (Calcutta) and was invited by Miss Kate Lawson, assistant in the Entertainment Production Unit to Major Melvyn Douglas, to sing over Armed Forces Radio Station VU2ZU. Bob appeared on the program "On Stage," which was heard Monday evening at 1830, 12 February 1945.
  The program "On Stage," which is heard every Monday evening at 1830 over VU2ZU is under the supervision of Major Melvyn Douglas, and directed by Cpl. Sol Adelstein, star of the successful "Hey Rookie" Troupe.


    If our switchboard operators here at Hellbird Haven could talk, what stories they'd tell! The other afternoon one nimble fingered nimbus was surprised to hear a voice request "100 ring two, please."
  "I'm sorry, sir," he answered. "But you are 100 ring two. You probably want 100 ring three."
  "Oh, no!" The voice was positive. "I don't want that. Give me 100 ring once instead."
  "There is no 100 ring one, sir," the operator told him, "It must be 100 ring three."
  "I'm sure it isn't." The voice was getting irritated. he hesitated for a moment, evidently thinking the situation over, and then said to the operator, "Well then, how about trying 100 - no rings?"
  All the numbers of the above anecdote are fictitious, but, so help us, the story is true.

    Three rousing jeers to the cinemaniacs who insistently portray the GI as a slick-haired, well-tailored Romeo, on a perennial chase after the beautiful but innocent maiden. This type of escapist tripe may be very well for civilian consumption, but soldier stomachs, accustomed to the ravages of Spam and GI coffee, turn at these portrayals on the screen. Besides, how can Joe, with twenty-four tough months on some mosquito-infested South Sea Island, garner those free drinks at the corner tavern, if everyone thinks that he's been spending his time lolling on a beach, attempting to find out if she has falsies under that sarong?

    The publication of "Forever Amber," by the curvaceous Kathleen Winsor, reveals an entirely new trend among career women. Heretofore, most of them have had the glamour of pumpkins, but recent years have seen the entrance of such entrancing figures as La Luce and Helen Gahagan Douglas into the field of politics, and the already mentioned, but hard to forget Miss Winsor in the story mart. We applaud this tendency toward ewelte, well-informed figures and look upon them as pioneers of a movement to introduce eye appeal as the complement of brain appeal.

    According to news from home, the very latest in women's wear is the very littlest. Apparently the women feel that "they're either too young or too old" on the homefront, or that all of the rejectees were turned down for blindness. Whatever the reason, Miss America of 1945 is adorned with too little and we hope that we'll get back before it is too late.

    Our congratulations to Tallulah Bankhead who fell off the wagon the night Paris was liberated. La Bankhead, renowned for her choice of liquor and language, had taken the oath for the duration, as the United States entered the war. No doubt Miss Bankhead had viewed the duration as a period of a few months. But as the months lengthened into years she maintained her pledge of abstinence, though the strain must have been wearing. Well, Miss Bankhead has her foot on the rail once more, and the scotches and ryes are pouring down that famous gullet. Once more the husky voice full of dramatic resonance purrs "make it a double." True, she couldn't make it for the duration, but we recognize sacrifice when we see it. After all, the woman's only human!

    Men from farms, small towns, or large cities retain, as their most cherished memory, the picture of Home. Men in the Silver Plane must frequently and closely get acquainted with their silver bird, which they consequently call their second adopted domicile. To safeguard their plane and their fellow comrades, when on flights, airmen should recall to mind that God blessed their "Home Sweet Home" because it was dedicated to Him for protection, by their parents. The airmen should make their plane be worthy of being equally blessed; because their plane is subject to Almighty God, and because they are not their own masters, even when flying. Every plane commander should ask the Lord to be his defender and ruler. Men must realize they are made to live in this world; but not to live for the world. To lose sight of this accountability and live for the day, to suit themselves, is wrong. God placed them here for the purpose of doing good; by helping to bring peace, and make secure our beloved country and fellowmen.
  Men in the Silver Plane - you "Home Sweet Home" was sacred to you, because its walls were adorned with the sacred words, "God Bless Our Home." Why then have your "Plane Sweet Home" adorned with suggestive pictures? God is everywhere present, and you may be called to Him to give account of your stewardship; and not an account to your "Pin Up Girl."
  Your life in your plane should be conducted on the same level as your life in your home. Such is the basis of a happy life, worthy of participation in His divine blessing. "Men steer that rudder" to your destination, and may God direct you and God bless you.
  Reverend Father Gabriel Stevens.

Radio operator to pilot...
Radio operator to pilot... HALP!

"I was born overseas."

 The "HELLBIRD HERALD" is published twice monthly by and for the personnel of APO 220 under the direction of the Commanding Officer, Col. Alfred P. Kalberer and the Special Services Officer, Lt. Stanley M. Zielski. Address all contributions and inquiries to "Hellbird Herald," APO 220, New York City, N.Y. This publication is passed by the Base Censor and may be mailed. "Hellbird Herald" receives Camp Newspaper Service materials. Republication of credited matter prohibited without permission of CNS, 205 East 42nd St., N.Y.C.

CO-EDITORS............. Cpl. Robert G. Baird, Sgt. Eugene I. Boyo
ASSOCIATE EDITOR....... Pfc. John J. McNulty
ART DIRECTOR........... S/Sgt. Stanley Zuckerberg
PHOTOS................. Bomb Group Photo Lab
FEATURES............... Cpl. Harold McElhinny, Sgt. Stan Muckler,
                        Cpl. Rhodes Patterson, Sgt. Oliver Schell, Lt. Phil Oliver

Printed by the Art Press and published by Cpl. Robert G. Baird.

Crew Chief of the B-29 Superfortress "Old-Bitch-U-Airy Bess"
769th Bomber Squadron - 462nd Bomb Group - 58th Bomb Wing

 Hellbird Herald
Original issue of HELLBIRD HERALD shared by Earl and Diana (Duty) Ingram

Copyright © 2007 Carl Warren Weidenburner