Miss America 1942 wins crown at Atlantic City this week
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Völkischer Beobachter (September 7, 1942)
USA.-Zerstörer versenkt
dnb. Berlin, 6. September –
Der amerikanische Zerstörer Blue sowie das Transportschiff Calhoun der amerikanischen Kriegsmarine gingen im Südpazifik verloren.
Der Zerstörer Blue hatte eine Wasserverdrängung von 1500 BRT. und eine Besatzung von 172 Mann. Die Bewaffnung des Zerstörers bestand aus 4 12‚7-cm-Geschützen, 4 4-cm-Flakgeschützen‚ 8 Maschinengewehren und 16 Torpedorohren von 53‚3 cm Kaliber.
Flanderns Jugend lacht über Roosevelt –
Die Blamage der WeItgouvernante
dnb. Gent‚ 6. September –
Die Jugend Flanderns hat„wie die Zeitungen von Gent und Brügge berichten, ein Manifest gegen die „Weltgouvernante Nr. 1“ gerichtet und sich gegen Roosevelts Erklärung an die Weltjugend geäußert. In der Erklärung der Jugend Flanderns heißt es:
Roosevelt hätte das schallende Gelächter hören müssen, das in Fiandern ausging, als die Jugend erfuhr, daß er im Rundfunk zu der Jugend der Welt sprechen werde. Die Jugend unseres Volkes strömt immer zahlreicher in der NSJK. zusammen und die Bewegung hat die Sympathie der ganzen Bevölkerung. Die Jugend geht ganz auf in den Idealen der neuen Zeit. Und in solchem Augenblick kommt die verblüffende Nachricht, daß Roosevelt, der Vertreter einer fadenscheinigen kapitalistischen Vergangenheit, speziell zur Jugend reden will. Es würde schwer sein, etwas Lächerlicheres zu ersinnen. Das einzige Ergebnis solcher Rede Roosevelts kann nur sein. daß nach einem Lachen und Achselzucken die Jugend singend weitermarschiert.
Brooklyn Eagle (September 7, 1942)
Raid sirens startle city in 2:31 a.m. alert
Wardens, police quickly respond as alarm is sounded
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FDR offers drastic price plans today
Nation due for shock in President’s call for total war sacrifices
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British bombers blast Duisburg, Nazi inland port
Eight planes are lost in mass raids on Reich – 2 Fortresses missing
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Aussie get vital cargo after ship breaks in half
Melbourne, Australia (UP) –
Ten heavy bombing planes worth upwards of $175,000 apiece, 12,000 tons of war material and 1,000 tons of fuel oil have arrived at an Australian port, and in their wake came one-half of the American freighter which brought them to Australia, only to be wrecked.
The ship broke in halves when it went on the rocks and the halves were 200 feet apart. Australian soldiers went aboard, lived on the forward section, emptied both halves and brought one half of the ship to port.
Kaiser to see Nelson on cargo planes
Washington (UP) –
Henry J. Kaiser, West Coast shipbuilder, was en route here today for “put up or shut up” conferences which may determine whether he will build 500 cargo planes.
Kaiser, who left Portland, Oregon, last night, is expected here Wednesday morning to meet production chief Donald M. Nelson. A WPB spokesman said Nelson was “willing and anxious” to go over any planes Kaiser has to submit.
Aussies mop up Japs stranded at Milne Bay
Enemy running short of food, fight more guerilla actions
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Willkie, on way to Russia, sees ‘Boche hatred’ in Egypt
Says setback for Rommel is possible turning point
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Navy credits Blandy for its anti-aircraft
Oversees production at 10,000 plants – was commander of the Utah
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Editorial: Labor Day of 1942 presents big opportunities to workers
Organized labor, which has attained unprecedented strength through the liberal legislation and the policies of the present administration, is now advancing to greater power by reason of the industrial conditions of the war. Its ranks grow; wages rise; its treasury swells. Never before has labor been in a position to exercise such dominant influence in the affairs of this nation. Never has it possessed such power for good or for ill.
On this festival day of labor, both its leaders and the rank and file should ponder the opportunities and the responsibilities of this great host of workers, who, unlike their fellows in many other lands, enjoy the gift of freedom, who are their own masters, who are rewarded for every hour of toil, who command the respect of those about them.
The one thought and purpose with which the mind of the American workers should be preoccupied today is that of preserving this freedom. Inspiration to this end may be gleaned from a contemplation of the plight of the enslaved of France and Belgium, of Norway and Poland, of Greece and Czechoslovakia, of Yugoslavia and even of the Reich, where the triumphs of three years have brought neither freedom nor bread.
The thoughts of workers today, accordingly, should resolve around the cherished heritage of freedom because, when the conqueror comes, it is the worker who is first enslaved. The dark history of the people of Europe during these tragic three years proves that this is the case.
In this highly mechanized war of today, the contribution of workers to victory is second in importance only to that of the fighting men, but there is little comparison between the sacrifices of the two. The soldier, for relatively meager compensation, apart from the personal satisfaction arising from the knowledge that a duty has been well done, endures separation from home, privation and the danger of death. For millions of workers, war means financial gain.
But unless it means something more than that, unless the worker is animated by more exalted motives than those concerned with finances, he cannot give to the war effort the contribution essential to victory. There must, of course, be a burning patriotism, the same spirit that drives a soldier forward in the face of a rain of flame and steel and sends a flier aloft to contend against odds that spell certain death.
It is not enough for workers simply to put in their eight hours. They, together with millions of other Americans, must match to the best of their ability the sacrifices which soldiers and sailors are making.
Nothing less is acceptable if those who remain behind, who enjoy the comfort of their own homes, their customary associations and the security that is preserved by the men in uniform on remote battlefronts and points of danger, are to be worthy of the men whom they send forth to do their fighting. Loyal labor can play a part of inestimable value in the achievement of victory. And labor, of course, has always proved to be loyal.
Editorial: The old bridge and the Fortresses
Maj. Paul W. Tibbets likens the United States Flying Fortresses to the Brooklyn Bridge, indicating their rugged construction. It is an apt simile. But the Brooklyn Bridge can boast of mellowed experience. It is the veteran of two other wars and in one won itself something like wound stripes.
In the last war, fears for its wellbeing were expressed during the Black Tom and Gillespie munitions blasts. Years later, the old bridge was partially closed when it was discovered a cable had slipped in its saddle atop one of the towers. Speculation at the time attributed this condition to the explosions.
Nevertheless, the Flying Fortresses, though of very recent vintage, have something else. They seem to be bridging a much greater expanse with effective loads of bombs.
The Pittsburgh Press (September 7, 1942)
Roving Reporter
By Ernie Pyle
ADARE, Ireland – On my first day in Adare a lady came along with two Shetland sheep dogs and sat down in one of the inn’s canvas chairs.
In case you have forgotten, a Shetland sheep dog is a toy Shepherd, and I happen to be the doting owner of one. They are magnificent little dogs, very rare in America, and these two here in Adare were the first I had ever seen at large outside our own.
They were to me like stick-candy to a child. I couldn’t resist them. And so, a stranger in a strange land, I girded my courage about me and boldly spoke to the lady.
Before she could strike me down, I whipped out a picture of our little dog, and presented it to her as though it were my card. The picture did the trick. In this world of big bad dogs the rare meeting of two Sheltie fans is an occasion indeed.
The lady was delighted to meet a dogman from across the sea. And it turned out that she was Lady Adare, the No. 1 woman of this part of Ireland. Her husband owns the town and practically everything around it.
I believe she is the first official “Lady” I’ve ever talked to, and I had considerable tongue trouble, but did manage to get through it without swearing in the wrong place.
Lady Adare says she has four Shelties, loves them like mad, and after the war she and Lord Somebody-or-Other down in Killarney are going into the business. They intend to advertise in American magazines and ship dogs to America. Maybe if I haven’t been eaten by a Schnauzer by then, I can become her American representative.
I didn’t meet Lord Adare, but I saw him. He is very horsey and he is in the height of his glory right now. He has just started a stage-coach line.
Transportation is getting so acute in Ireland that they are actually opening up horse-drawn stage lines again, and it isn’t just a stunt, either.
Lord Adare dug up a handsome old coach, and opened a route a few days ago between Rathkeale and Limerick. It is 18 miles each way, and they make one round trip a day.
The coach is a high-wheeled affair, without a top. In rainy weather people just have to sit and take it. You mount the stage by a circular stairway at the rear.
The driver, an aged man, sits on a high seat in front and the conductor, I suppose you call him, rides on the rear steps. Both are dressed in long, bright-red coats, with gray top hats. They look very medieval and historic. The coach holds about 25 people, and is always crowded. They made the 18-mile run in two hours.
The coach is pulled by four horses. Adare is about halfway, so they change teams here in front of the inn at 11 in the morning and 6 in the evening. Lord Adare is always on hand to supervise the changing. He is so proud of the whole thing he’s about to bust.
It takes about 10 minutes to change teams and get everything straightened away. Quite a little crowd gathers to watch the ceremony. Just after the coach starts, the conductor takes a trumpet from a hook on the back of the coach, and blows a long flourish.
The demand for coach seats is so great that Lord Adare has sent to England for another coach. He already has plenty of horses.
A similar stage line has opened in Dublin, and they will be springing up all over Ireland, people say. “We’re returning to medieval days,” a friend said to me only half-jokingly. “If you come back in five years we’ll all be living in thatched huts and wearing knee breeches.”
Incidentally, the lack of thatched roofs in Ireland was another surprise to me. It’s really very seldom that you see one. Most roofs, in both town and country, are either slate or galvanized iron.
Thatched roofs went out a long time ago when Ireland changed from a grain country to a grazing country, consequently doing away with the straw from which thatched roofs are made.
But now she is returning somewhat to grain again, so maybe the thatched roof will come back. I hope so, for there are few things prettier than a thick thatched roof on a white stone house, set against green fields, with flowers all around, and a donkey sticking its head out the front door.