Oil reserves near an end, report warns
Only few decades’ supply remain
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Group of 21 in House would study problem of Army ND Mavy in post-war period
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Death of husband now cuts allowances
By Daniel M. Kidney, Scripps-Howard staff writer
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President makes no analysis
Washington (UP) –
The White House today revealed without comment or analysis replies from 42 of the 48 governors to President Roosevelt’s soldier vote questionnaire, and they showed that 15 states definitely will not accept the federal ballot for counting, while only six states definitely will.
Replies were received from 24 Republican and 18 Democratic governors. Four Democratic and two Republicans have yet to reply.
Response to queries
The replies were in response to telegraphic queries dispatched by Mr. Roosevelt last Wednesday – a few hours after Congress sent a predominantly state’s rights bill to the White House for signature. The bill places the accent on the state ballot plan endorsed by Southern Democrats and Republicans in Congress. The use of the administration-backed federal ballot is restricted to overseas servicemen who have applied for, but have not received a state ballot by Oct. 1 – and then only if their home state has certified by July 15 that the federal ballot is acceptable for counting.
Mr. Roosevelt asked each governor to advise him whether use of the federal ballot is now authorized by his state and, if not, whether steps would be taken before July 15 to validate the use of such ballots.
To help President decide
He sought the gubernatorial advice “to enable me to form an opinion as to the effectiveness of this measure” – to help him decide whether he should veto or sign it into law. He previously announced his decision will be based on whether the pending bill will permit more servicemen to vote than does the 1942 Soldier Voting Act.
On the basis of replies received, it would be impossible to forecast with any accuracy whether Mr. Roosevelt will sign or veto the bill.
Here is a box score:
States replying | 42 |
States definitely accepting the federal ballot | 6 |
States definitely rejecting | 15 |
States that probably will accept | 14 |
States that probably will reject | 3 |
States undecided | 4 |
States not replying | 6 |
West Virginia won’t
The gubernatorial replies showed this alignment:
States that will permit use of federal ballot (6): California, Florida, Maryland, North Carolina, Vermont and Washington.
States that will not (15): Arizona, Arkansas, Colorado, Georgia, Idaho, Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Minnesota, Montana, South Dakota, Virginia, West Virginia and Wisconsin.
States that probably will not (3): Alabama, Mississippi and Missouri.
States that will make efforts to permit use of the federal ballot (14): Connecticut, Indiana, Maine, Massachusetts, Nebraska, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, Ohio, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island and Utah.
States undecided (4): Delaware, Louisiana, Nevada and North Dakota.
States not reporting (6): Michigan, Oregon, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas and Wyoming.
Among the summarized replies were:
PENNSYLVANIA – Republican Governor Edward Martin hoped the Legislature would “take whatever appropriate action is necessary” for absentee voting before July 15.
WEST VIRGINIA – Democrat Governor Matthew M. Neely: Federal ballot not authorized. If it becomes law, the Legislature would “refuse by an overwhelming majority to utilize anything the measure contains.” He added that the state law is adequate and said:
In the circumstances, I could not think of recommending… that the many thousands of West Virginians in the armed services be insulted with an official expression of approval of the deplorably inadequate bill passed by Congress.
OHIO – Republican Governor John W. Bricker:
I am calling a special legislative session in order that Ohio laws may be further liberalized so that ballots will be available for distribution under provisions of the bill recently passed by Congress… The bill now before you will materially aid Ohio’s citizens in the Armed Forces in exercising their franchise.
MARYLAND – Democrat Governor Herbert R. O’Conor: State absentee voting law permits use of the supplementary federal ballot.
Last reply from Dewey
The last reply up to yesterday afternoon came from Republican Governor Thomas E. Dewey of New York, who had advised the President he had signed a New York State war ballot bill Saturday night. He said the New York law “complies in every respect with the provisions” of the state ballot clause in the pending federal bill and confers upon the New York State Ballot Commission “powers so broad and flexible as to make feasible the use of any ballot which complies with the state constitution.”
Governor Dewey said:
To the limit of our constitution, I shall extend every assistance to employ any and all federal facilities and ballots to ensure the right of every member of the Armed Forces from New York State to vote at the coming general election.
By Ernie Pyle
The following is Ernie Pyle’s story of the bombing of his hotel at the Anzio beachhead where he was slightly wounded. The second column about Lt. von Ripper will be published later.
With the 5th Army beachhead forces in Italy – (by wireless)
Yes, we almost got it this time. I’ll try to tell you how it feels. I’m speaking of the bombing of our villa on the Anzio Beachhead which you may have read about in the news dispatches.
We correspondents here stay in a villa run by the 5th Army’s Public Relations Section. In this house live five officers, 12 enlisted men and a dozen correspondents, both American and British.
The house is located on the waterfront. The current sometimes washes over our back steps. The house is a huge, rambling affair with four stories down on the beach and then another complete section of three stories just above it on the bluff, all connected by a series of interior stairways.
For weeks, long-range artillery shells had been hitting in the water or on shore within a couple of hundred yards of us. Raiders came over nightly, yet ever since D-Day, this villa had seemed to be charmed.
The night before our bombing Sgt. Slim Aarons of Yank Magazine said:
Those shells are so close that if the German gunner had just hiccoughed when he fired, bang would have gone our house.
And I said:
It seems to me we’ve about used up our luck. It’s inevitable that this house will be hit before we leave here.
Villa called ‘Shell Alley’
Most of the correspondents and staff lived in the part of the house down by the water, it being considered safer because it was lower down.
But I had been sleeping alone in the room in the top part because it was a lighter place to work in the daytime. We called it “Shell Alley” up there because the Anzio-bound shells seemed to come in a groove right past our eaves day and night.
On this certain morning, I had awakened early and was just lying there for a few minutes before getting up. It was just 7:00 and the sun was out bright.
Suddenly the anti-aircraft guns let loose. Ordinarily I don’t get out of bed during a raid, but I did get up this one morning. I was sleeping in long underwear and shirt so I just put on my steel helmet, slipped on some wool-lined slippers and went to the window for a look at the shooting.
I had just reached the window when a terrible blast swirled me around and threw me into the middle of the room. I don’t remember whether I heard any noise or not.
The half of the window that was shut was ripped out and hurled across the room. The glass was blown into thousands of little pieces. Why the splinters or the window frame itself didn’t hit me, I don’t know.
From the moment of the first blast until it was over, probably not more than 15 seconds passes. Those 15 seconds were so fast and confusing that I truly can’t say what took place and the other correspondents reported the same.
There was debris flying back and forth all over the room. One gigantic explosion came after another. The concussion was terrific. It was like a great blast of air in which your body felt as light and as helpless as a leaf tossed in a whirlwind.
I jumped into one corner of the room and squatted down and just cowered there. I definitely thought it was the end. Outside of that, I don’t remember what my emotions were.
Suddenly one whole wall of my room flew in, burying the bed where I’d been a few seconds before under hundreds of pounds of brick, stone and mortar. Later, when we dug out my sleeping bed, we found the steel frame of the bed broken and twisted. If I hadn’t gone to the window, I would have two broken legs and crushed chest today.
Frets over missing steel hat
Then the wooden doors were ripped off their hinges and crashed into the room. Another wall started to tumble, but caught only partway down. The French doors leading to the balcony blew out and one of my chairs was upended through the open door.
As I sat cowering in the corner, I remember fretting because my steel hat had blown off with the first blast and I couldn’t find it. Later I found it right beside me.
I was astonished at feeling no pain, for debris went tearing around every inch of the room and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t been hit. But the only wound I got was a tiny cut on my right cheek from flying glass, and I didn’t even know when that happened. The first time I knew of it was when blood ran down my chin and dropped into my hat.
I had several unfinished columns lying on my table and the continuing blasts scattered them helter-skelter over the room and holes were punched in the paper. I remember thinking, “Well, it won’t make any different now anyhow.”
Finally, the terrible nearby explosions ceased and gradually the ack-ack died down and at least I began to have some feeling of relief that it was over and I was still alive. But I stayed crouched in the corner until the last shot was fired.
By Thomas L. Stokes
With Willkie in Wisconsin –
There’s something a bit like the glamorous Broadway star going back to the five-a-day in the cheap and drafty theaters of the provinces in Wendell Willkie’s attempted comeback for the Republican presidential nomination on this Wisconsin circuit, preliminary to the April 4 primary.
Or, perhaps, like the major league pitcher who is sent back to the minors, ostensibly to cure that ailing left wing so the old hop will come back on the ball, who left the big town with the confident assurance from the boss, “We’ll be seeing you back soon again, old boy – you’ll like that club,” which he tried to believe as he shakes hands with teammates who smile too cheerfully.
All the trappings of the big time, all the sound effects, the perfection of detail, still cling reminiscently about this Willkie troupe back on the provincial circuit. The local committees are organized. The high school auditoriums are spick and span and frilly with flags. The suppers are laid out temptingly in the back rooms of local restaurants with that dainty touch so dear to small-town women showing themselves off to strangers.
The hotel reservations are ready in advance. The autos are on hand to transport the traveling show from town to town – Mr. and Mrs. Willkie and their entourage plus a sizable press corps which remembers the big-time circuit of four years ago, the screeching, storming multitudes, the huge auditoriums wild with frenzied people.
Towns are smaller, crowds smaller
But it’s all in miniature – 1940 on a greatly reduced scale.
The towns are smaller, the crowds are smaller, and the enthusiasm is tempered with the restraint of old folks who sit placidly and boys and girls in their early teens who gape and whisper and giggle, but don’t make hilarious noises. That vigorous middle group of the electorate is no longer here. It is off somewhere in the wars or wars’ industry. But the big, shaggy fellow is working at his electioneering job here with only 24 convention votes as the prize as if the whole thousand odd were at stake.
As he sees it, that is the stake. He is here trying to prove that he’s popular with the plain folk, despite the politicians. He wants so much to be President, so very much.
You can see he has doubts now that he didn’t profess a few months back. He’s a sobered man, but still determined.
We watched him perform for the small circuit.
Heterogeneous state politically
The high school gymnasium was full – the largest crowd it has ever had except for the county fair when the governor is a guest. It was a quiet, orderly crowd, until, at 8:15, the high school band struck up “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.” Everybody stood up and applauded as he made a grand entrance with Mrs. Willkie. He came smiling down the main aisle, waving now this way, now that, just as if there were 30 or 40 thousands present. There were about 2,500.
When the mayor got up, he addressed the crowd as “Republicans, Democrats, New Dealers, Progressives, Socialists, Prohibitionists and Townsendites,” and there was a chuckled through the crowd. This is a heterogeneous state politically.
He said:
A good political meeting is like an old-time religious meeting – there’s always the hope that someone will be converted.
Mr. Willkie lost no opportunities. When he had finished speaking, it was announced he would shake hands with all who wanted to come to the platform. For over half an hour, the folks filed by.
There was nothing like that on the big circuit in 1940.
Völkischer Beobachter (March 21, 1944)
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U.S. Navy Department (March 21, 1944)
Pacific and Far East.
U.S. submarines have reported the sinking of fifteen vessels in operations against the enemy in these waters, as follows
These actions have not been announced in any previous Navy Department Communiqué.
For Immediate Release
March 21, 1944
Four enemy positions in the Marshall Islands were bombed by Liberators and Mitchell bombers of the 7th Army Air Force, Dauntless dive bombers and Corsair fighters of the 4th Marine Aircraft Wing, and Ventura search planes of Fleet Air Wing Two on March 19 (West Longitude Date). Thirty tons of bombs were dropped in these operations. On one atoll, an ammunition dump exploded, and on another, heavy explosions and fires were observed. All of our planes returned.
The New York Times (March 21, 1944)
San Sebastiano, on volcano’s slope, buried under tons of molten rock, witness says flow behaved capriciously
By Milton Bracker
San Sebastiano, Italy –
At 12:30 this morning (local time), a giant tongue of lava from Vesuvius crashed into the stone house where Giuseppe Battaglio has lived for years with his wife, Maria, and their six children.
By 1:00, the house had been pulverized and buried under countless tons of molten stone. The stream of lava continued inexorably on its way toward the main street of this town, which has 2,500 inhabitants and nestles on the volcano’s northwest slope, eight miles from Naples.
Early yesterday afternoon, on orders of the Allied Military Government, San Sebastiano’s inhabitants and those of nearby Massa di Somma began with pitiful evacuation, which was in full swing late last night when the liquid avalanche, 2,500 degrees hit, cascaded down the valley.
This correspondent stood within 50 feet of the lava stream when it demolished the first house in the town. The lower reaches of the valley, already pitted and lumpy from the lava blankets of long ago, were studded with awed spectators who, thanks to a favorable wind direction, had a marvelous opportunity to witness one of nature’s most remarkable shows at close range.
Poletti is a spectator
One spectator was Lt. Col. Charles Poletti, military governor of the Naples area. With his staff, he directed the civilian evacuation in Army trucks and announced that the Allies were prepared to feed the refugees tomorrow. Some were taken to Naples, others to Santa Anastasia and others possibly to Averra.
The larger town of Cercola, on the Naples-Santa Anastasia road, was next in line should the lava continue to flow after having inundated this doomed community.
Those who watched Vesuvius in action this morning will never forget it. The crater, from which alternately oozed or spurted the fiery volcanic matter, was forgotten in the presence of one prong of lava 100 yards wide and actually 30 feet deep.
It was like the monstrous paw of an even more monstrous lion, slowly inching forward toward his prey.
The lava was not white hot; it was orange-gold, with occasional black patches, undulating like waves. As the stream advanced, great boulders cracked off and tumbled down, setting fire to small fruit trees and causing onlookers to leap back in alarm.
The general sound was like that of an infinite number of clinkers rolling out of a furnace – but sometimes a great chunk of rock bent rather than broke. Its effect was like that of the devil’s own taffy being pulled and twisted to suit his taste.
Lava behaves capriciously
The rate of flow had earlier been officially estimated ats 12 feet a minute. Last night and this morning, the lava acted capriciously: Here and there it leaped ahead with searing tentacles, and at other times it seemed to slow up, as if gathering weight to overwhelm a ridge in the valley.
At one side stood a peasant whose weather face turned tawny in the glow.
“Guerra, fame, distruzione,” – war, hunger, destruction – he repeated, shaking his head. “Guerre, fame, distruzione.”
But there was humor, too. An American corporal from Indiana squatted at a safe distance and muttered, “Gosh, when I tell ‘em about this in Muncie.”
Gradually the stream spread out in the little valley. The last few trees went up in flame – peculiarly outlined in blue – and then the crackling mass crunched down on an eight-foot wall and began to devour it.
Giuseppe Battaglio’s house was on the far side of the fence, and for a while it seemed that the stone fence might channel the flow and save the modest stone structure.
But as the incandescent mass roared over the fence, it was plain the house was fated. A spear of fire shot up to a corner of the building. Then it subsided, and the house seemed to be winning the battle. The odds were too great, however. The lava ground into the base on the other side, and with a roar the wall fell in. a few minutes later, the surging flow literally cracked the house in half. What looked like an iron bedstead twisted into the air.
Thus, the destruction of the town began. A few hundred yards back, but directly in line of the flow, stood the town’s best houses and the three-story, yellow school that the inhabitants cherished. It was estimated that they all were crushed and buried within two hours.
French and others there now see military deciding whom it will deal with
By Harold Callender
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Observer adds that Americans are facing ‘1st class Nazi army’
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The Pittsburgh Press (March 21, 1944)
By Reynolds Packard, United Press staff writer
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Flame-specked smoke whooshes 5,000 feet in air, covers area for 10 miles around
By Eleanor Packard, United Press staff writer
On the slope of Mount Vesuvius, Italy –
The volcanic crater of Mount Vesuvius exploded with a terrifying roar tonight, blanketing the countryside for 10 miles around under a pall of smoke and burying two mountain villages beneath tons of flowing lava.
At 5:30 p.m. (local time), I saw a huge column of flame-specked smoke whoosh up out of the crater and soar 5,000 feet into the air, where it billowed out, showering the mountainside with rocks and ashes.
The smoke spread as far north as Naples, 10 miles away, halting all traffic in the streets there, and blanketed the ruins of ancient Pompeii, buried in the volcano’s greatest eruption almost 1,900 years ago.
The unexpected flareup indicated that the eruption, which began Friday, was worsening, and Allied military authorities announced that more than 14,000 additional men, women and children were being evacuated hurriedly from the northwestern slopes.
The village of San Sebastian was buried under the 70-foot wall of lava flowing down the mountain, and the neighboring hamlet of Massa di Somma was virtually obliterated.
By Edward P. Morgan
Naples, Italy –
The village of San Sebastian on the northwestern slope of Mount Vesuvius was buried today under millions of tons of lava writhing slowly down like a gigantic gray and orange glowworm from the volcano which is in the midst of its most violent eruption in more than half a century.
Some 3,700 villagers in San Sebastian and neighboring Massa di Somma were evacuated before dawn by the Allied Military Government, under the direction of Lt. Col. Robert Kincaid of New York City, commissioner for Naples Province.
A later United Press dispatch said the great stream of lava moved down the northwest slope with inexorable force and by midafternoon had traveled 500 yards beyond San Sebastian to cover three-quarters of Massa di Somma. The force of the flow showed no signs of slackening, although it was cooling rapidly as it spread.
AMG is now evacuating 2,000 inhabitants from the town of Cercola, which is directly in the path of the flow farther down the mountainside and scarcely five miles from Naples itself. The city, however, does not appear to be threatened.
Field kitchens are feeding the refugees whose homes, fields and vineyards have been devoured by the monstrous molten river, now nearly five miles long, which started zigzagging on Saturday from fissures high on the side of the cone.
The Mayor of San Sebastian said the eruption surpassed anything in his memory since 1892. The lava is spilling not only in several forking streams down the side of Vesuvius facing the Bay of Naples, but also in the opposite direction toward Trecase in the general vicinity of Pompeii.
Officials of the Italian Royal Observatory told the United Press the flows of lava had reached the proportion of the 1872 eruption, the worst in modern times, and added that they saw no signs of an early slackening.
When it comes to fiendish force and breath-catching brilliance, nothing the great god Mars or any modern warriors could devise would match nature’s spectacle of Vesuvius at work.
Great folds of smoke
In the daytime the mountain is cloaked in great folds of black-gray smoke. At night, the fiery flow stains the sky the color of blood and paints a panorama directly out of the steaming Halls of Hades.
The peaceful people who live on these slopes grow grapes and make good wine called Lacrima Cristi – tears of Christ.
Faced first with the terrors of modern war, the Nazi “occupation” and then with the thunderous advance of Allied armies to drive the enemy out, these folk are entitled to shed especially bitter tears of sorrow for this visitation of misery and desolation beyond their due.
Reporter visits scene
Lt. John H. Senseney of St. Louis, Capt. Carleton Harkrader of Bristol, Virginia, a jeep named Doris and I watched the lava consume San Sebastian between midnight and sunrise this morning.
Man is a pigmy before such force and can only conceal his awe in hollow wisecracks or rich but reverent bursts of profanity.
Our first view of this particular stream was a lateral one, from the stone house of Signora Galla Giorgio which was bypassed a scant 10 feet. As the slag and glowing coals inched forward, the mass gave off an eerie tinkling sound like icicles breaking up in a spring thaw.
Houses wrecked
In the course of two hours, we watched the seething orange tongue of the river lick forward and demolish a three-story stone mansion along with a wheelless Italian limousine and an upright piano which only shortly before seemed so sturdy and durable.
High tension poles of steel melted like solder sticks and the bridge over San Sebastian’s Via Rome simply crumpled up and vanished before our eyes.
Ahead of this inferno ran the refugees in little individual rivulets. The women stretched their arms to heaven in the black night and called on God for help. Children sobbed in the streets and one old lady wailed that she would not leave her hovel of a home, but U.S. and British military police gently loaded her into a truck.
Pitiful people
An Italian couple named Mario and Rosa came trotting down a path carrying two washtubs full of crockery, a clucking hen and a prodigious mattress. They crossed the edge of a small bluff and started down a precarious flight of crumbling stone steps, picking their way into the blackness with a ruddy glow silhouetting their burdened backs.
Suddenly Mario pitched headlong down the steps, strewing broken plates everywhere.
Rosa moaned and said a prayer, but Mario picked himself up and, despite her protestations, marched back to their hut and retrieved another staggering load of hardware.
This time they descended safely and struggled off to a friend’s house.
Guadalcanal veteran to head 7th Army
Allied HQ, Naples, Italy (UP) –
Lt. Gen. George S. Patton Jr. has been replaced as commander of the U.S. 7th Army by Maj. Gen. Alexander M. Patch Jr., it was announced today.
Gen. Patton was revealed several months ago to have slapped two U.S. soldiers in hospitals following the invasion of Sicily.
Gen. Patch formerly commanded U.S. Army troops who moved into Guadalcanal to relieve the Marines and initiated the offensive that drove the Japanese from that island.