I DARE SAY —
The forgotten man
By Florence Fisher Parry
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Lehman named vitamin envoy to wide world
New Yorker has opportunity to surpass Hoover in relief role
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Thanksgiving proclamation is issued by Roosevelt
Holiday is climax to ‘Food-Fights-For-Freedom’ month, President says
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Ban on feeding Europe blamed on Churchill
Turkey’s example cited by witness at Senate hearing
By Daniel M. Kidney, Scripps-Howard staff writer
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Combat-tested officers teach battle tactics
Army rotating commanders between war zones, training camps
By Charles T. Lucey, Scripps-Howard staff writer
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Ford planning to build giant air transports
Says planes produced at Willow Run will create many post-war jobs
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War calls for alcohol keep whisky vats empty
By Thomas L. Stokes, Scripps-Howard staff writer
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Simms: U.S.-French breach widens over de Gaulle
British and Americans want victory first and make politics secondary; ‘acute’ trouble is being forecast
By William Philip Simms, Scripps-Howard foreign editor
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House approval of new tax bill believed certain
Measure calling for higher excise, excess profit and postage levies may go to Senate in record time
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In Washington –
Margarine tax battle shifts to Senators
Opponents of federal levy try to bypass House group
By Robert Taylor, Press Washington correspondent
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‘Grassroot’ movement recognized –
GOP invites state chiefs to help plan convention
Meeting in Chicago Jan. 10-11 to decide time, place for naming presidential choice
By Lyle C. Wilson, United Press staff writer
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Roving Reporter
By Ernie Pyle
Ernie Pyle, before he again takes off for the war fronts, is writing a short series of columns on what he has seen, heard and felt at home. This is the third.
Clinton, Indiana –
My father is in the hospital for the first time in his life. He celebrated his 76th birthday there the other day.
He has been in the hospital for six weeks now, and has a month to go. He enjoys it more than anything that’s happened to him in years.
My father stumbled and fell at the foot of some steps in the basement of Rhoades’ store in Dana, the last of September. He didn’t break anything, but he was so badly bruised and wrenched that he couldn’t move, and Mr. Lunger had to carry him upstairs in his arms. Mr. Lunger said my dad felt just like a feather, for he’s a little fellow like me.
They put him in an ambulance and brought him to the Clinton Hospital, eight miles from our home near Dana. He couldn’t move at all for several days, he was so sore.
Then he got to having nightmares and staggering around in his room at night, so the surgeon put a splint on his hip to keep him in bed.
Splint becomes ‘flint’
It’s merely a safety precaution, for the doc says he might break his already weakened hipbone just be wandering around the room. My dad gets mixed up and calls the splint a “flint” when he tells about it.
The nurses all adore my dad, because he is mild and undemanding and extremely grateful for everything they do. As a consequence, they do more for him than anybody else. They joke with him and poke fun at him, and he likes that.
The night my dad had his night-long nightmare was quite an occasion. Actually, he was delirious, for part of the time he thought he was in Rockville, 25 miles away, and part o the time out in a tent in the hospital grounds (he must have been reading too many of my war stories, for there isn’t any tent in the hospital grounds).
At any rate, it was while he was “in the tent” that he had to get up. He got out of bed and couldn’t find the door to the bathroom. He got completely lost there in the dark. Then he felt the foot of the bed, and since he figured he was in a tent with no floor but the ground, what difference did it make? The nurses caught him at that, and put him back in bed. I don’t believe I’ve heard my father get as tickled in 40 years as when he recounts the story.
After a while, the nurses found him wandering around the room again., they asked him what he thought he was doing. He said why, he was just trying to find his way back to the hospital. He thought he was up at Dana, and it was time for him to be getting back.
After that, they put sideboards on his bed, so he couldn’t get out. But he thought some strange men in the room were after him, and in trying to get away he worked his legs out through the spaces in the sideboard, and got caught and all tangled up, and was hanging practically upside down when the nurses found him. After that, they put the “flint” on his hip, to keep him in bed for sure. He hasn’t had any nightmares since.
Keeps score on new babies
My father really seems to relish being in the hospital. He has a nice corner room where he can look out at the front lawn and see people come in. His general health is good, and he looks fine. The nurses give him a bath every morning, and one of them shaves him.
He says the hospital food is wonderful. They’ve really converted him down here. He has never eaten butter nor drunk coffee in his life; now he’s consuming both and loving it. He has about 10 visitors a day, and he keeps his door open all the time for fear he’ll miss something going on out in the hall.
The Clinton Hospital, like hospitals all over the county I’m told, is producing more babies than at any time in history. As one of the nurses said:
The Army is sure shelling out the babies.
My dad is quite struck with this wholesale addition to the population, and every morning asks the nurses the score for the night. He and the nurses make jokes about it. My dad is scared to death they’ll get mixed up and take him to the delivery room someday.
My dad is neither blind nor deaf, but he is a little of each. His eyes are so bad people have to read his letters to him, and you have to speak rather loud to him. Which leads to a little story.
The night I arrived, several members of our family met the train and we drove right to the hospital. The folks hung back so I could go ahead into the room alone.
So, I went in and my father held out his hand, and we talked together for about a minute, and then the rest of them came in. He greeted them all, and then asked if they had been to the depot yet. They said yes, and then my dad said:
Did Ernest come?
So, they all howled and said:
Who do you think you’ve been talking to the last few minutes?
He said:
Why, I thought it was Clyde Howard.
Clyde is the barber up at Dana. My dad was very chagrined.
Japan’s radio ‘wins’ battles but Navy can’t
Broadcasters claim destruction of U.S. sea forces in 2 weeks
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‘Japs will get no rest,’ says Nimitz, urging attack
‘Feel victory is sure,’ admiral asserts, but warns of bitter fighting ahead
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U.S. Navy Department (November 13, 1943)
Communiqué No. 483
South Pacific.
During the night of November 11, about 12 Japanese bombers dropped bombs on Nanumea, Ellice Islands. Reports indicate one killed and two wounded. Minor material damage was sustained. One enemy plane was shot down by anti-aircraft fire.
CINCPAC Press Release No. 168
Early this morning (November 13 west Longitude date), six Japanese bombers raided our installations on Funafuti, Ellice Islands, dropping about thirty bombs in two high altitude runs, causing minor material damage. Personnel casualties were two wounded.