‘Soapy’ Suttles teaches Poilus how to jeep
French Army gains speed in assembling, using modern weapons
By North American Newspaper Alliance
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French Army gains speed in assembling, using modern weapons
By North American Newspaper Alliance
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Failure to meet monthly goal has military men worried over possible need for scaling down overseas plan
By Charles T. Lucey, Scripps-Howard staff writer
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Urges industry to use war profits for peacetime expansion
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59 enemy planes are destroyed or damaged in single day in South Pacific
By Don Caswell, United Press staff writer
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American victims of Jap treachery lie on the sands of New Guinea. These three U.S. fighters were killed on the last day of the battle for Buna last January. Japs, hiding with rifles and grenades in the sunken barge, killed the Yanks as they were mopping up.
Trip believed forerunner to new war action
By James McGlincy, United Press staff writer
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Men march, tanks roar and cannon bark, but
By William Stoneman, representing the combined U.S. press
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Darkness, threat of Nazi snipers, both fail to daunt the courage of Yanks
By Relman Morin, representing the combined U.S. press
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By Ernie Pyle
Washington –
This is the last of these columns before we go on furlough. I’ve never looked forward to any experience in my life as I now look forward to a month of blank, utter rest.
I came across from Africa by Clipper. It was the third time I’d flown the Atlantic. Our trip was a special, unscheduled one, bringing a planeload of Navy men back from Africa for schooling and new assignments.
On the long stages of the homeward journey, the sailors would help the stewards carry out the dishes after out meals. And as the sailors slept in the chill air of the high altitudes, the stewards would carefully cover them with blankets. It was sort of touching.
There were no bombs, so we all slept on the floor or in our seats. Most of the sailors crossed the ocean and arrived in New York in their blue work dungarees, although some did change to whites just before we arrived.
Sent home to study
At one of our stops, a spectator asked:
What are these boys, survivors from a torpedoed ship?
Actually, none of them was. They were all skilled craftsmen being sent home to study a little and then go to sea again with new ships.
One of the pleasures of being back in America is that I have to make only one copy of this column. Over in Sicily, I was making seven copies of every one.
I’d send two copies by courier plane from Sicily back to the headquarters city – one copy for transmission, the other for the censor’s files. Then next day I’d send two duplicates, just in case the first sea got lost, which it sometimes did.
Those four copies were in abbreviated cable form. Then, in addition, I’d make three copies in full form – two to be sent to Stars & Stripes, which publishes this column, and one to keep for myself, just in case everything got lost.
Two of three times everything did get lost, but it was always so long afterward before I found it out that the columns weren’t any good by then anyhow.
During these few days that I’m writing here in Washington, I just write a page and walk over and hand it to my boss. I’m trying to work up to the day when I can get him to write it for me, and then I’ll have the literary situation reduced to the irreducible and utopian minimum – I won’t have to make any copies at all!
In Washington, I did something that millions of soldiers would give an eyetooth to do. I put on civilian clothes.
The only suit I have in the world is in London. But a year ago last spring, I’d left some bags in storage here in Washington, so I delved into them looking for odd pieces of civilian raiment. I found two old sportscoats with the elbows out, but no pants at all. Since I am not blessed with the right kind of legs to justify going around the streets of Washington without pants, I had to go out and buy a new pair.
Lingering at the mirror
Also, I splurged on a new hat and new pair of shoes. Now I am a sight for sore eyes. I’m so damn handsome I haven’t been able to tear myself away from the mirror.
My lost pocketbook has been returned. It came in the mail, from Wilmington, Delaware. IT was nicely wrapped in tissue paper, with brown paper around that, and neatly addressed in pen and ink.
All my credentials and private papers – my correspondent’s card, my inoculation list, my Short Snorter bills, my last war discharge, even a British one-pound note – were all there, all intact. But the hundred bucks in American money was gone.
I’m grateful beyond words for the return of the wallet and the credentials. And it’s comforting to know that our thieves are honest thieves. And what would I do with a hundred bucks if I had it?
That’s all, now, for quite a while. Take care of yourselves. And please don’t wake me up till October.
War exaggerates evil, but the problem is not new
By Betty MacDonald
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Völkischer Beobachter (September 18, 1943)
Von unserer Stockholmer Schriftleitung
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Eigener Bericht des „Völkischen Beobachters“
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U.S. Navy Department (September 18, 1943)
Strong Pacific Ocean Area forces today conducted heavy raids on the Japanese bases at Tarawa Island, in the northern Gilbert group, and on Nauru Island, west of the Gilbert group.
These operations were carried out according to plan during the night preceding and for a good portion of the day of September 19, east longitude date.
Details of the operations are not immediately available.
The Pittsburgh Press (September 18, 1943)
Nazis begin to withdraw from sector below Salerno
By Richard D. McMillan, United Press staff writer
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Italian Premier escapes through Nazi lines
By Phil Ault, United Press staff writer
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MacArthur hails New Guinea victory as stride toward his avowed goal – reconquest of Philippines
By Don Caswell, United Press staff writer
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