June 24, 1918



Says Food Would Be Better Served From Table Thank Ration Line.


Col. F.B. Beauchamp, conservation expert from the Quartermaster Corps of the British Army, talked recently on food saving and clothing reclamtion in the Y.M.C.A. Auditorium to high cantonment officers,  supplu officers and mess officers, telling them what has been done by England along conservation lines and making several suggestions as to how similar work may be forwarded here.

He advised a central plant for securling by-products from food, and cited as anexample of what can be done the fact that enough glycerine for a three-inch shell is to be secured  from meat bones after the fat has been boiled. Great Britain has made a saving of $5,000,000 worth of glycerine in this way. That a food saving would result from having men take their food from a supply placed on the table rather than by the rationing at present in vogue, with men doled out unequal portions while in line, was asserted by the Colonel. One slice of bread, he said, was enough for one man, and would save enormously over the present ration of two slices.

That the cost of reclaiming worn clothing would be greatly reduced if men turned in their worn garments before they have reached the hopeless stage was also claimed. Col. Beauchamp was much impressed with the conservative programme in force at Upton and with the reclamation department of the Quartermaster. Gen. Bell was so impressed with some of his suggestions that he announced several of them would be adopted.


Private Here Invents Small Airplane Motor

Government Inspectors Will Look at Engine Said to be Vibrationless.


An airplane motor weighing only three hundred punds which runs without vibration has been invented by a Camp Upton private, Herman Rieckel, and notification of it has been sent to Washington. Private Rieckel is in the cantonment signal office and the commanding officer of that outfit, Lieut W.C. Gladstone, learned about the motor and sent word to Government inspectors. They will look it over with the inventor when a forlough can be secured for him, at his home in Bridgeport, Conn., where he has done his experimenting.

For eleven years, Private Rieckel has been interested in airplanes and motors and has done a good deal of investigating. He also has made a number of flights. He claims for his invention that it is small, compact, durable and economical. it has been run for 350 hours, and uses only a gallon of gasoline in six hours.




Fifty-two arrests have been made recently here of forty-three civilians, seven privates and a quartermaster sergeant, following an investigation of liquor selling and the theft of food and clothing from the quartermaster stores. Confessions have been made by a number of the prisoners, who will probably be tried by court martial.

During a recent raid on the civilian camp a truckload of shoes, underwear, clothing and food stolen from the Goverment was seized, but the individual thefts, it is said, were not large. The sergeant arrested will also be charged with arranging a payroll so that civilians were given pay for work they didn't do. It is believed by camp officials that liquor selling and stealing from Uncle Sam have been completely scotched by the arrests.

The cantonment Judge Advocate's Office is preparing the charges against the accused. The office is voluntarily assisted by Justice Joseph Morschauser of Supreme Court, who is doing work here in the naturalization court.




The talented Mercedes players of Brooklyn, a recent attraction at the Knights of Columbus Auditorium, gave great pleasure with their tramatic presentation, and the men who enjoyed them hope for a return engagement.

Extensive improvements on the Knights of Columbus Hall are well under way and will give the organization one of the finest buildings in camp in their Upton Boulevard location. The wide veranda is hospitality itself, and the Seashore Resort atmosphere is becoming a distinguishing camp possession. A large addition on the Second Avenue side is about finished. It will contain a writing and reading room.




Hopes that the present fare rate to New York might be lowered were finally destroyed by a recent memorandum which states that no special rates will be given men except when on furlough and traveling at their own expense. Which means that for short leave home Upton men will pay the present prevailing fare, $4.21.



In His Own Rivington Street Fashion He Tells of It, and of Bravely Facing the Officer of the Night- Some Tough "Boychik."

Private Rosenstein, Now a Blase Vet of Almost Thirty Days, Tells of His First Guard Mount.

(Br Private S. Rose, 34th Co., 152d Depot Brigade.)


Vot should I tell you und vot should I say! At first I didn't oonderstand vot the Sa'gent meant. I should mount guard; I, SAMMY ROSENSTEIN, only two years in the country and two weeks in the army; und already trusted with such a responsibleness! Honest, I didn't believe mine own ears, but there it went again, plain like day-"Private SAM ROSENSTEIN report for guard duty!"

Well, as der Amerkiauer says, orders es orders, und especial orders from Sa'gent Red! Besides, it is mine business if the General vants to take a chance on my vatching the army ven its sleeping. Who knows? Maybe he heard about that terrible fight I had with Salmen den Roitem, ven that KOLBOINIK tried to cheat me from 75cents, und vot I did to that good-for-nothing lowlife tremp! Odder, maybe yet again in the General found out vot a tough ROYCHIK I was back in Slobodsky, Prasdisnavskayer Gunberny, Russ Polen! There, there, you smartish Aleck, don't laugh. Them spy-detectives from the Secrety Service knows everthing ebsolutel everything und vot you can hide from them should the Kaiser have it to support his wife and nine children on! Never mind, I think to myself, the General knows what he is doing. Such a General all my good friends should have!

So, with knees shaking from pride I go over to the orderly room and tell them to do with me vot they want. I am ready for the worst. Nu, to make the story Bekitzer, they put me on a great patent raincoat und give me a cloob and put me on my posten. As I stend there in the middle of the moonlighted road, a lot of thoughts vent through my mind. Vot if the spies and robbers should know that under that tough looking poncho (y'know that vot they call them trick raincoats) and under that cloob is nobody else but SAMMY ROSENSTEIN, two years in the country and two weeks in the army.  That fight with Saimen was TAKI a corker, but here-all alone-everybody sleeping-quiet like a cemetery-Oll to tell the truth I wished I was back on Rivington Street.

But all of a sudden. Ha! what's this? Steps from feet on road! What should I do? Duck it? You said something! I slide behind a wall and soon the danger is over. But not for long. I no sooner get finished congratulating mtself on my narrer escape when bingo! I step right into the way of a coming figure. It was too late to hide and to pretend myself not to see was positivel impossible, so I do the second from the next best thing and greb the horns from the bull!

"Ha! ha!" I commence, brave-like before the robber has a chance to get fresh. "Ha, Ha! So it's you, you dirty loafer! Bum, you! I'm afraid of you like I'm afraid from a sick duck! Tremp!!!"

But further I didn't go. I stopped right there Oi,Oi did I stop! Who should it turn out to be but the officer of the day taking a trip on his rounds. What did the SONAL VISROCI have to say, do you ask? Well, well, what he had to say was a fright, a positive fright! I never expected to hear from him talk so unpolite, especial because he looked to be like a child from a fine family. From what he said and the way he said it. I expected to get shot any minute, but on the end he quiets down and talks to me like a father and tells me what to do and how to do it, and then he turns around and goes away. You speaking so nice to me on the end and saving my life from getting shot I give him an extra fine salute and I tell you, as men to men, them American officer fellers deserve it too.

Efter he was gone I esk myself a question. What ferinstence a business has a Officer from the Day trempeving around at night? And what is the Officer from the Night doing, ha? Is this a way? Is this a plan? Theer sure musta been there some koonkelmoonkel business, but et-yeh, I think to myself, et-yeh, ef you should worry Sammy, over everything that you see in the Army what you don't like, you'll get gray and baldy, gray and baldy. I tellya! Well, anyway, that was a narravish escape. From now on I make up my mind on the spot to cut out all monnkey business, and do my dooty and not make the General feel sorry he trusted me. But SINDIGER MENSCH what I am! A minute later I hear again once more feets step, and would you believe it odder not on a bravish feller like I am now, I ektschelly got afraid, yes sirree sir! I am ektschelly afraid. But misted, I esk you, did I run away, and bring disgrace on my State and Nation and make my companeh ashamed to have me for a member? Mister, I esk you, did I? Oi, should the Kaiser live so! I did my duty like a soldier-with them pepnsh words of that Officer from the Day still yet ringing in my ears I would have to be even still braver than I am not to did mine duty.

I took a deep breath, pulled in my belt a couple notcheses, pushed back my shoulder, left out a ZIFTZ-and with a tone to wake up everybody in the camp in case of trouble, I call out "Stop thief! Whoziz going there!"

HELIGER SHTROZAK! I couldn't believe my eyes. I should drop dead this minute if the feller don't stop on the spot like he was hit in the head. My surprise was great, but my enjoyment greater. My mouth opened with chuckling and closed with gasping. A nice pleasantish feeling creeped over me and warm shootings shot up and down my spine. Yes, sir, as true like there is MUNN in PURIM-KOILITCH they minded me like I was somebody, a something and without a word, too.

"Edvence and be Reckernized," I singled out, and who should it be but a coupla fellers from my companeh. So I just lend from them a smook and let them go. Nu, what should I tell you, and what should I say. All that I needed was just to break the icicle, and the rest was easy like pie. I chellenged them right and left, and when business was slow I even sneaked over to the next posen and when the other guard wasn't looking I grebbed some of him customers. Oi, was then an hour for robbers and spies! Should the Kaiser get so far in his driving on Peris as they got on with their business so long I had my eyes on them. But all of a sudden, in the middle of the rush, I turned white like a chalk! Cold shooting instead of hot oaes began sliding themselves up and down by spinal sting. Icy from cold became the sweat on my forhead! Good God! I never realized it until that minute! Here I was stending in the middle of a country road all alone, in the middle of the night with a silver plated cigarette case and a brend new fountain pen in my pocket and miles and miles and miles away from a cop!



Success Reported So Far-Ingredients of an Unusual Nature.


Private F.T. Vreeland, who has sppeared under various noms de plume in Trench and Camp-Trench and Camp's Own Leased Wireless Correspondent, Our Own Iodine Dispenser, Trench and Camp's Private Hospital Patient-as a Base Hospital contributor, now has a journalistic venture all his own. "The largest high grade hospital circulation in Camp Upton" is what Vreeland claims for his newspaper, which is fast becoming the offical hospital organ. And the hospital receives so many organs to be repaired-heart, lungs, feet, liver, eyes, et al-that the honor of being an Official Org. can be glimpsed.

Has Significant Title.


This newest camp newspaper produced by enlisted men has a signicant title THE CURE and is administed in weekly doses, or less frequently "if that proves too great a strain on the editors' typewriters," quoting from the editorial prospectus. This statement of aims and purposes runs on further: "With this the first issue of THE CURE the base hospital assumes the understanding of getting out a jolly old rag about itself, and a new era in hospital history may be said to be opened. This is to be a publication all about the hospital, the nurses, enlisted men, freaks and kitchen police composing it. To help fill up, every one from commanding officer to stump exterminators is invited to send in his article, short or long, about hospital life as it happens to hit him. We want anything that has to do with administering pills. We want to interpret hospital anatomy largely through the funny bone, and if your little outburst of genius doesn't appear in this issue done feel that your literary career is a failure and that you ought to turn on the gas. A newspaper can become crowded as well as a subway. There will probably be another number soon containing your masterpiece, for it doesn't look as if the war would be over for a week or so."

Full of Clever Contributions.

That some of the "masterpieces" managed to dqueeze in is quite evident from the first and second numbers. Private Milton Hochenburg, associate editor, and Sergt. William Burroughs, business manager, have connived with Private Vreeland to get readable stories about hospital life, poems, pictures, and cartoons. The story of Lieut. Col. Whithams's rise to command of the Base is given in one number, and in another is on article by Major Harlow Brooks, M.R.C., called "An Appreciation of the War Man." Humor is the keyword in THE CURE, which is saturated throughout its four pages with that valuable elixir. Even the ads, have their droll side, as, for instance, the business card of Varonc, who barbers well, and Stempel, who tailors well. Their place of business is three buildings from the camp morgue, and "All roads lead there," the ad. assures comfortingly.

All in all, THE CURE is very much worth while and will undoubtedly effects its purpose of changing sick soldiers to well ones and bored medical attandants to spruce, springhtly individuals.




The lads who frequent the Y Building, corner of Fifth Avenue and Upton Boulevard, are siging the praises of Sergt. Shifman, 9th Company, Depot Brigade, responsible for a two hour show which recently entertained a hut full. The programme: Songs up to date, Art Osterwell, better known as "King;" buck and wing, Broncho Mayo; coon shouter, Some Boy Harry Rosenthal; songs, Cohen and Barnet; songs, Delahaburtic, "old 41;" comic ditty by Hello Feiber, the Boy Himself; 9th Company Sextet, some noise by the bunch; lightweight boxing between K.O. Brown and Hope McKernoun; featherweight go with Kid Shea matching Fighting Golden; catch-as-catch-can wrestling, Brunfell and Sullivan; "Liberty Boys" parade picture; songs by entire company; exit march, "Back to the Barrocks," by entire company.



Famous Violinist Given Splendid Reception in K. of C. Hall.


Very few camp musical events rank higher than the concert given in the Knights of Columbus Auditorium last week by Milscha Elman. The Jewish Board for Welfare Work, whose new head worker, Jack Yellen, is planning big things for his organization here, sponsored the concert, and its quality and auspices promise much for the future from the Jewish board.

The K. of C. hall was packed for the concert, and the splendid attention and high quality of appreciation demonstrate that Upton men's tastes are not entirely confined to the joyful jazz. After preliminary songs by the soldiers and remarks by K. of C. and Jewish Board officials, the artist appeared with his accompanist, Phillip Gordon. Four numbers were in the first group, and after a short intermission Mr. Elman played another group of five, including "Humoresque," for which numerous requests were made and "The Star Spangled Banner." He was given a vociferous ovation, which he acknowledged by wishing good luck to the fighting men. Gen. Bell spoke a few words in appreciation of the violinist's generous volunteer concert. He complimented the men on their splendid attention.




Lieut. Houghrigan is the prize "knut" of the 1st Battalion. "Here I come in a cloud of dust," and he tells a heartrending tale of the men he never could learn to like on account of the fact that he "hain't done right by our little Nell!" His "whiskey tenor" imitation is wonderful, and his Irish Jig with Hawaiian interludes is unique. One day he informed Major Payson in a heartbroken voice that all his friends had been deceiving him for years, that there really wasn't any Santa Claus. Major Payson was incredulous. "Really, can it be that we have all been deceived?" he asked. Lieut. Bennett suggested an investigation.




Following the Lambs' Gambol by only seven days comes an entertainment to the Liberty that in only one way is like many other performances brought to Upton, the Mecca of the atrical stars. It throws a challenge to the present stock of adjectives and leaves language without a leg to stand on. This most recently established zenith of amusement was reached Sunday evening in George Miller's theatre. The performers were brought by the Depot Brigade, through Lieut. T. Steelman Bain, former Philladelphia clubman, now acting as a camp entertainment procurer.

Contrary to precedent, these performers gave the camp a thorough up and down. They came Saturday and were given a dance at the Officers Club Saturday evening. Some mean hoofs were shaken, to use the language of Macaulay. The actor persons were quartered in specially furnished officers' barracks. Sunday they were taken on a thorough tour of the cantonment, and a baseball game in the afternoon on the one and only Depot Brigade diamond was served up for their delectation.

In the evening they performed for houseful at the Liberty. On the hill were the following, whose names are easy to conjure with: Marjorie Rambeau of "The Eyes of Youth," Dorothy Dickson, Clifton Crawford, Eva Fallon and twelve girls of the "Fancy Free" company, Fannie Brice, the Pennington sisters, the Dooley brothers, Vivian Segal and Harry Brown of the "Oh, Lady! Lady!!" company, Miss Bessie Wyne, Constance Binney, Fritzie Scheff, Carl Hyson, Dorothy Jardon, Carl Randall, Miss Kittie Donner Messrs. Burke and Grace from the Winter Garden, Eddie Cantor, John Charles Thomas, Jane Connelly, Irving Connelly, Joe Barnett, the Dolly Sisters and Raboni.

The greensward hereabouts resounded recently with the bleats of bona fide Lambs, 125 of them, who presented at the Liberty Theatre the same Labs Gamboi given recently in New York. They arrived Sunday afternoon. In company formation, doing a regular rookie "one-two-three-four," they paraded about the camp for an hour, with Gen. Bell, accompanied by Capt. Marcel Soures, chaplain of the French miltary marines, on foot. The Depot Brigade Band and a mounted guard of officers headed the procession.

In the evening was the performance. The performance opened with "The Darktown Regiment," a minstrel show of soldier life pat and pointed for the audience. It was arranged by R.H. Burnside, with songs by Percy Wenrich, Andrew Mack and Daniel J. Sullivan, and included in the cast De Wolf Hopper, William Collier, Donald Brian, Andrew Mack, James Doyle, Scott Welch, ed Flammer, Frank Croxton, W.G. Stewart, Fred Esmelton, John Daly Murphy, Gilbert Clayton, Edward Poland, Harland Dixon, Arthur Deagon, Ernest Truex, John Hendricks, Clarence Handysides, Alfred Kappeler, George Howell, Harold Vizard, Robert Strange, Arthur Hurley, Sam B. Hardy, Thomas W. Ross, Frank O'Day, Ed Campbell, John E. Hazzard, George E. Mack, Frank Hannah, R.H. Burnside, William David, Thomas J. McCrane, Frank Mellor, Peroy Wenrich, Clarence West, Roberta Hosea, Harry Stubbs and Jed Prouty. The rest of the programme: Nate Lelpzig in card tricks, assisted by four picked privates; "The Drums," an allegory by George V. Hobart; Andrew Mack in songs and stories; Doyle and Dixon, dances; Leon Errol, using R.H. Burnside and William Collier in Leon Errol stuff; James Swinnerton, George McManus and T.E. Powers, cartooning; Harry Houdini, and "In the Beyond." a burlesque by Edwin Milton Boyle.



"Barrage" Editor Puts Over a Home Run With Good Advice.


Joshua Meier's batting average as an editorial writer in civil life could not be secured up to the time this edition of Trench and Camp one-two-three-foured to press, but from a bit in a recent issue of the Barrage, that worthy Cantonment Headquarters Detachment Bright Sheet, it must have been high. Friend Josh has lifted the ball over the home run fence in this particular effort. It concerns the Grease Ball-he who, like the poor, we have always with us. Here are a couple poignant experts:

"He was drafted. His service record and qualification card got all balled up because he couldn't understand or couldn't be understood by his interrogator. That is how he came to be rechristened three or four times. There was not much improvement each time the ceremony took place. At reveille he failed to answer to his "non de plume," but the orderly room fixed that up. Experience has taught them that it takes a wise foreigner to recognize his own name whenever we pronounce it.

"He took four more inocculations than was required, because he followed every other platoon besides his own to the infirmary. Possibly he reasoned that the more needies he took the less chance he had of becoming sick. In short, it is vague to him what the whole affair is about.

"He cannot get the snap of his carriage or clothes. The shower is a bit too sporty for him. He dares not converse with any one because he fears that everything he says may sound funy. It usually does. He imagines he is being handed all the dirty work; sometimes this makes him sullen. Usually, though, if he feels that he is understood, he is a willing and hard-working soldier.

"As we stated, he is with us. Why not try to make him feel he is one of us? Why exploit him to gratify our sense of humor? He might be sensitive, although he may seem devoid of sensibilities. Our country was his hope of refuge, so he thought. Why shatter this hope even if he is a soldier?

"Never will he have greater opportunaity to become an American. Never will he be so close as this to real Americans. We fight that Justice may be immortal. Why not demonstrate that ideal by our whole-hearted attitude toward him?

"They say that every American-born soldier is a crusading missionary for democracy. Let's also have him become a crusader. Let's hold out the hand of comradeship. Let's make him one of us. He is taking the same risks. Enough handicap that his lack of knowledge denies him our opportunities for the present.

"Here, we are down to brass tacks. We are soldiers. So is he. Let down the bars and welcome him-and let's do that without the least suggestion of patronage or tolerance."




The crowds on the long tows of wooden benches in the big Y hall, Upton Boulevard, have had unusual treats in "screen drammer" lately. The vigorous George Walsh had a peppy time with his exuberant film, "This Is the Life," and George Beban gave a most artistic portrayal of "Jules of the Strong Heart," while the band of one of the passing artillery regiments who hit camp for a day or two every once in a while played a fine concert and accompanied the picture.

The Stage Women's War Relief Committee sent a good vaudeville bill, followed by seven reels of dramatic situations, mystery and thrills; namely, Jack Barrymore's knitted browed impersonation of that gentlemanly crook, "Raffles, the Amateur Cracksman."

This week, beginning Tuesday night at 8 o'clock, a four day's engagment will be opened for the big United States war picture, "Pershing's Crusaders." This informational film, which had a run of several weeks at the Lyric Theatre, New York City, shows what mighty strides Uncle Sam has taken in all departments of the war game. Come along, rooks and veterans, and see yourself as the camera-man sees you; see the new ships hit the water; see yourself land "over there" and train in trench and at battery. Special orchestral music will be used.


Brings Trench Service Stripe, Tiny Tot Takes Wound Emblem From Camp


Peggy Tarbell, who is between four and five, came to camp last week wearing on her sleeve a triangular stripe signifying six months' service in the trenches with the American forces. Her father is Lieut. George G. Tarbell of the 101st Engineers, and his little daughter is proud of him, it goes without saying, and just as courageous. She came with her mother and grandmother, Mrs. Martin Fink of No. 600 West End Avenue, New York, to visit her uncle, Capt. Charles Finck. She was playing with a typewriter in the officers barrack and injured her thumb. The medical officer bound it up for her in a requlation army bandage.

Just before she went out, and be it said that Peggy shed no tears of pain, the doctor tore a piece of adhesive tape from a roll and put it on her sleeve, above the service stripe.

"Now you have a wounded stripe," he assured.




A poster contest to speed the ship building programme has been inaugated, and among the classes of contestants is one class for soldiers, sailors and officers. Upton artists, of whom, may they live long and happily, there are many, are herby urged, besought, advised and cajoled by the Art Editor of Trench and Camp to try for the prize. The first is $100, the second $75 and the third $25. Information may be secured from the New York Sun, United States Shipping Board Competition No. 150 Nassau Street, New York City.


Church Chapel Fire Brings Rare Sights

"The Sergeant" Clothed as David of Old Wins the Plaudits.


Four-thirty in the A.M. is as interesting an hour of day for a fire as any yet discovered, according to the testimony of those favored ones who witnessed the blaze at the Camp Chapel, Upton Boulevard. Especially when one is is privileged to view such a well known personage as "The Sergeant," Bayard F. Smith, keeper of the chapel keys, attired in a costume greatly favored in the days of King David-a knee length toga, shining knees and slippers.

Mr. Smith was awakened by crackling, and, investigating, found a blaze raging in the kitchen, but not in the stove where tradition confines most blazes. He promptly summoned the young assistant Y.M.C.A. secretaries who occupy the upper floor. Two of them had already been roused by flames coming in the open window. Calmy and with heroic disregard of danger they plunged down the smokefilled staircase and, slowing their pace to one dignified and self-contained, entered the outer air.

Lieut. E.J. Corley, with his fire-fighters, arrived in a few minutes and by wonderfully fast and effcient work confined the flames to the one room downstairs. Because of their promptness the damage was kept low. Three thousand dollars covers it. Sympathy is general at the loss suffered by Mrs. Smith, including kitchen utensils and silverware.

The chapel auditorium was unscathed. The building was built at a cost of $35,000 by the General Wartime Commission of the Churches, and is one of the finest in the cantonment.


Our own suggestion for ending the war: Invent a gas bomb that will explode, instead of fumes, a few million Yaphank mosquitoes right in the German's faces.



Benny Leonard Gives Three a Go-Mickey Devine a Stanch Fighter.


The Y.M.C.A. Auditorium, which has seen many a pair of soldiers embroiled, opposing each other armed with the padded mitts, has held some enthusiastic audiences in the past week or so. The attraction has been Boxing Night, conducted by Frederick Schultz, Physical Director for the camp Y.M.C.A., with the co-operation of Frank Glick, Cantonment Athletic Officer.

After giving Britton the go of his life in Philly our own Benny Leonard appeared in an exhibition bout at the end of Mr. Schultz's programme of arguments, and went three successive bouts with fighters who were no slouches with the mitts. He met Walsh, the redoubtable Mickey Devine, who is becoming quite familiar with Ben's style, and young Eddy. They were two-minute rounds, two rounds to a match. Some other fighting on the same evening was by no stretch of the imagination easy picking, except perhaps the fights where the pickings were in the pillows, used as instruments of offense and defense. The pillow fights saw C. Yocum opposing J. Walsh, a fellow Signal Corpsman, and C. Jerome nd J. Gilmore of the 13th Company walloping each other. Colored pugilistic geniuses from among the casuals showed some good fight during two two-minute rounds. They were Joe Gans, 159 pounds and Nero Chick, 160 punds. The start argument if the evening was between Frankie Daly, 31st Company and Dutch Brandt, 34th, contenders for the world’s bantamweight title. These two battled all over the place until the final whistle, which left the decision as close to a draw as it can well be. Mr. Kraetzer of the Y.M.C.A. refereed.

A summary of another recent boxing night follows: 112-pound class, Desjardines vs. Corpl. Reiger, both 7th Company; 110-pound, Dellberti vs. Levy; 125-pound, McDonald, 8th Company vs. Sullivan, 7th Company; Baker, 39th Company vs. Lametti, 40th Company; Kirby vs. Mickey Devine, 6th Battalion.

And speaking of Mickey, he's some game little rapid firing expert. He has won all sizes of medals up in New England and is itching to get a go with Richie Ryan, the camp lightweight champ. it will probably be arranged for in the near future, and it should be some little combat.


Italy is gradually making her presence felt on this side of the American Army in this War. Recently Tony Monaco applied for the shoe repairing privilege, and now Tony Corosa has obtained the bootblacking concession. "First thing you know," remarked Capt. Held, "one of them will come along and want to open a banana stand."



Sergt. Klein and Napoleon Both Started as Only Corporals.


At a recent series of boxing bouts put on by Sergt. Jack Mallan at the base hospital, Tommy Guthro, showing remarkable agility for one of his advanced years, fooled around in the ring with another private who tried in vain to knock Tommy's smile off. Finally Tommy delivered one of those famous Framingham uppercuts and his opponent abruptly retired from the ring to the floor. He lay there, meditating, and then, in response to urgings from the crowd to get up and lam Tommy, the recumbent gladiator replied from his downy couch on the boards, "No, I ain't goner get up!"

He was so positive about it that not even a bugler could have roused him. In the end he had to be practically helped from the ring.

*          *          *

Sergt. First Class Klein was recently twitting a newly created Corporal in his usually snappy two-a-day style, because the Corporal had received two stripes when his expectations had risen much higher. To which the Corporal replied: "When anybody joshes me about my rank, I'm going to tell that person Napoleon started as a Corporal."

"That's right," said Sergt. Klein quite seriously, "I started as a Corporal myself."

*          *          *

Mark La Fontaine was announced at a recent musichowl at which he was the pianist as "Sergt. La Fontaine," which annoyed him, because just then he couldn't make good on the title. He felt that if the announcer had set up as a prophet, he was a pretty bum one, for there didn't seem to be any possibility of his arranging for La Fontaine's appointment. But the Higher Powers seemed to get wind of it and took the notion that it was a good idea. So La Fontaine was created a Sergeant, just to save his announcer from continuing in an embarrassing position.

*          *          *

Private Strunsky, whom everybody knows as one of the triumvirate that hold a seat on the Port Exchange was approached a few days ago by Joe Bonomo, for the present commissioned as first footman on the mule team.

*          *          *

"How much is a New York American?" asked Bonomo, who is cautious enough to be Scotch.

"Three cents," replied Strunsky, scarcely stopping to think.

"Haven't you got any for a cent?"

"nope," answered Strunsky in his purest English. "Why"

"I've got only a cent in small change-my other money's too large."

"Maybe I can change it," said Strunsky, though the admission seemed torn from him. "How much is it?"

"Ten cents."

*          *          *

The clamping of the lid on fancy puttees again threatens to cause a panic in the local leather market, with decidedly bearish prices. After the recent edict against them, this notice was stuck up in a washroom here:


500 Pairs of Leather Puttees.

Some Pairs Never Been Worn

50 Cents Up.


Paper Given Free.


That hundreds of copies of the Christian Science Monitor, called the International Daily Newspaper, are sent to Camp Upton free and distributed to enlisted men and officers is the announcement of C.C. Wolcott, Christian Science Welfare Worker here. Free copies can be secured in the vestibule of the Camp Library, and the Red Cross Building's Library at the Base Hospital. Free subscription to the Monitor is given all officers and soldiers during their entire service, through contributions made by civilians.


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