Edson: Antitrust boys to check sales of war plants
By Peter Edson
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By Bertram Benedict
Today, April 6, is the 28th anniversary of the entrance of the United States into World War I.
On April 6, 1917, President Woodrow Wilson signed the joint resolution of Congress formally declaring “the state of war between the United States and the Imperial German Government.” Thus, the United States did not declare war, but declared that Germany had, by its submarine attacks, previously opened war upon the United States.
And Congress declared that a state of war existed, not with “Germany,” but with the “Imperial German Government.” Thus, Congress was following the lead of Mr. Wilson in distinguishing between the German government and the German people. Four days before, Mr. Wilson had insisted:
We have no quarrel with the German people. We have no feeling toward them but one of sympathy and friendship. It was not upon their impulse that their government acted in entering this war. It was not with their previous knowledge or approval… We are, let me say again, the sincere friends of the German people, and shall desire nothing so much as the early reestablishment of intimate relations of mutual advantage between us.
Six senators opposed
The war resolution was passed by the Senate with six senators voting “No,” none of them from the East – Sens. Gronna (R-North Dakota), La Follette (R-Wisconsin), Lane (D-Oregon), Norris (R-Nebraska), Stone (D-Missouri), chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee, and Vardaman (D-Mississippi). None of the six is now alive.
The war resolution was passed by the House with 50 representatives voting “No,” including the House Majority Leader, Rep. Kitchen of North Carolina. Only one of the 50 was from the East, the lone Socialist – Meyer London of New York, Fifteen of the 50 were from Illinois and Wisconsin; 23, almost half, were from west of the Mississippi. One of the 50 is still in the House – Harold Knutson (R-Minnesota).
The only member of either house who voted against war in 1941 was Rep. Jeannette Rankin (R-Montana); the only woman member of the House in 1917, she had voted against war then also.
Wilson’s armistice message
One year, seven months and five days after Congress voted for war in 1917, President Wilson went before it with news of the Armistice. The outbreak of World War II 20 years later was to make a mockery of some of his words then:
The war thus comes to an end; for, having accepted these terms of an armistice, it will be impossible for the German command to renew it… The arbitrary power of the military caste of Germany which one could secretly and of its own choice disturb the peace of the world is discredited and destroyed.
But other words of Woodrow Wilson on November 11, 1918, are no less pertinent today than then:
With what governments, and of what sort, are we about to deal in the making of the covenants of peace? With what authority will they meet us, and with what assurance that their authority will abide and sustain securely the international arrangements into which we are about to enter? …Let us be perfectly frank with ourselves and admit that these questions cannot be satisfactorily answered now or at once.
Veterans agency duties expand – may move offices – waste admitted, defended
By Ned Brooks, Scripps-Howard staff writer
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Waste can’t make up for bad cooking
By Fred Barton, North American Newspaper Alliance
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By Ernie Pyle
OKINAWA (via Navy radio) – An hour and a half before H-Hour at Okinawa, our vast naval fleet began its final, mighty bombardment of the shore with its big guns. They had been at it for a week, but this was a concentration whose fury hadn’t been approached before.
The power of the thing was ghastly. Great sheets of flame would flash out from a battery of guns, gray brownish smoke would puff up in a huge cloud, then the crash of sound and concussion would carry across the water and hit you. Multiply that by hundreds and you have bedlam.
Now and then the smoke from a battlewagon would come out in a smoke ring, an enormous one, 20 or 30 feet across, and float upward with perfect symmetry.
Then came our carrier planes, diving on the beaches. And torpedo planes, carrying heavy bombs and incendiaries that spread deep red flame.
Smoke and dust rose up from the shore, thousands of feet high, until finally the land was completely veiled.
Bombs and strafing machine guns and roaring engines mingled with the blended crash of naval bombardment and seemed to drown out all existence.
Assault waves form
The ghostly concussion set up vibrations in the air – a sort of flutter – which pained your ears and pounded upon you as though some almighty were beating you with invisible drumsticks,
During all this time, the waves of assault craft were forming up behind us.
The water was a turmoil of movement. Dispatch and control boats were running about. LSMs and LSTs were moving slowly forward to their unloading areas.
Motor torpedo boats dashed around as guides. Even the destroyers moved majestically across the fleet as they closed up for the bombardment of the shore.
From our little control ship and the scores like it, waves of assault craft were directed, advised, hurried up, or slowed down.
H-Hour was set for 8:30. By 8 a.m. directions were being radioed and a voice boomed out to sea to form up Waves 1 and 2, to hurry up, to get things moving.
Our first wave consisted solely of heavy guns on amphibious tanks which were to wade ashore and blast out the pillboxes on the beaches. One minute behind them came the second wave – the first of our foot troops.
After that, waves came at about 10-minute intervals. Wave 6 was on its way before Wave 1 ever hit the beach. Wave 15 was moving up before Wave 6 got to the beach. That’s the way it went.
We were on the control boat about an hour. I felt miserable and that awful weight was still on my heart. There’s nothing romantic whatever in knowing that an hour from now you may be dead. And the fury of our bombardment was in itself horrifying.
Some officers I knew came aboard. They weren’t going ashore until afternoon. They wanted to talk. I simply couldn’t carry on a conversation. I just couldn’t talk.
I got a drink of water, though I wasn’t thirsty. Then one sailor came up and introduced himself and said he read the column. Then a knot of sailors gathered around on deck.
So far, so good
One sailor with black, close-cropped hair and glasses offered me a cigar. I didn’t even have the wit to put down his name.
I told him I didn’t smoke cigars, but I would take one for our regimental colonel who practically lives on cigars, and was about out of them.
A few minutes later the sailor came up with five more cigars to give to the colonel. They wanted to give me candy, cigarettes, and cookies, but I told them I already had plenty.
Word came by radio that Waves 1 and 2 were ashore without much opposition and there were no mines on the beaches. So far, so good.
We looked at the shore through binoculars. We could see tanks moving across the fields and the men of the second wave walking inland, standing upright. There were a few splashes in the water at the beach, but we couldn’t make out any real fire coming from the shore.
It was all very indefinite and yet it was indicative. The weight began to lift. I wasn’t really conscious of it. But I found myself talking more easily with the sailors, and somehow the feeling gradually took hold of me that we were to be spared. The 7th Wave was to pick us up as it came by. I didn’t even see it approaching. Suddenly they called my name and said the boats were alongside.
I grabbed my pack and ran to the rail. I’m glad they came suddenly like that. The sailors shouted, “Good luck,” over and over and waved us off. We were on our way.
WASHINGTON (UP) – The Navy today announced the loss of a landing craft gunboat in the Iwo Jima area as the result of enemy action.
The LCI (G) 474 received numerous hits from enemy shore batteries, the Navy said, and was regarded as a total loss. It was sunk finally by U.S. forces.
The next of kin of casualties have been notified.
Ingrid, Bing and Leo combine their talents in new picture
By Maxine Garrison
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By Hedda Hopper
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