Verhovayak Lapja, 1944 (27. évfolyam, 1-52. szám)

1944-01-13 / 2. szám

Page 4.

CROSSING THE LINE

(Passed by U. S. Naval Censor)

Verhovay yournal______________________January 13,

CHINESE

POEM I

One night in June—

Settle down; happy man;

Stars shine; big moon;

Another night in June;

In park on bench,

Stars shine; big moon;

With girl in clench;

Aint happy no more;

Me fast—

Carry baby, walk floor;

Never let chances past;

Wife mad, she fuss;

Me say me love; She coo like dove;

Me mad, me cuss;

Get hitched?

Nagging wife; crying brat;

Me say okay;

Life one big spat;

Wedding bells ring, ring, ring;

Me realize, at last—

Honeymoon; — everything!

Me am too fast!

NOTE: The above poem is Michael Kuzio’s (skitrooper) Betty Utasi, Branch 292, Manville, N. J.)

idea of fast wartime marriage, sent to Miss

U. S. S. Essex, December 13, 1943.

Once again I take pen in hand and will write on a subject which, I am sure, you are not accustomed to hear or read about often and that is, the ceremony which takes place aboard any U. S. ship that crosses the equator for the first time.

A sailor who has not crossed the “line,” regardless of the years he has served in the Navy, is considered to be a Pollywog, the lowest form of sea life. Now, it is the desire and ambition of every sea-loving man and boy in our fighting Navy to become a salty full-fledged member in the ancient order of Shellbacks. To become a shellback, the lowly pollywog must stand trial before his Royal Highness, Neptunus Rex, ruler of the raging main; and also the Royal Scribe, Davy Jones. He must pass the rigid examinations of the Royal Court and Royal Doctors, and must take whatever punishment given to him like a true son of the sea.

When our ship pulled out that certain day, and after our destination was announced over the loud-speakers, all of us lowly pollywogs knew we were to get the proverbial “business.”

Now, there were, at the time, many men aboard who had previously crossed the equator and they considered themselves to be hardy salty shellbacks, and they were going around with sly grins on their faces. You see, all the shellbacks initiate the pollywogs and who knows what evil plots were forming in their minds? There were rumors amongst the “boots,” recently come aboard, that they were to be keel-hauled, they were to be electrocuted, to be thrown to the sharks, fed castor oil by the gallon, and many other gruesome thoughts,

which in turn caused me to tremble in my pantaloons; because, you see, I, too, was a pollywog.

The days slipped by and as we approached zero degrees longitude, our anxiety became more apparent. Then on the third day away from the imaginary line, the loudspeakers blared out the news that Davy Jones, the Royal Scribe, was to come aboard the following morning to see that everything was in readiness to receive His Royal Highness, Neptunus Rex.

The hours seemed to drag, the day just would not end, and to top of it off, all the shellbacks aboard were going around the ship with long, thick canvas clubs, stuffed with Lord knows what. (It was rumored that nuts, bolts and scrap iron were in them, but we didn’t believe that —at least, we didn’t show it outwardly).

Came the next morning. All hands were told to keep a sharp eye out ®avy Jones and report his arrival. About 1000 Davy Jones’ were sighted and he was brought aboard. He had with him many Royal Cops to protect him. Now Davy Jones is a picturesque old salt, so maybe I’d better describe him. He was dressed as a pirate of old—-patch on one eye, clothes with all the colors of the rainbow, cocked hat, sword at side, knee-length black boots and also plenty of jingling ornaments in his ears and on his clothes. All in all, he made a very impressive sight to behold. He walked with a swagger, like a man who knew his way around and who.had a job to do. He was escorted to the Captain’s office, where he was officially greeted and welcomed aboard. Over the loudspeaker he gave a short speech on what the pollywogs were to expect the next morning

when his Royal Highness, Neptunus Rex, came aboard. It was ordered by Davy Jones that a preliminary trial be held for some of the exceptionally bad cases, so this same day Davy Jones and his staff proceeded to try these exceptions. All of these bad cases were officers, and the trial which followed is one that I’ll never forget. Laughter and hilarity were the order of the day. I can’t remember much of the dialogue, but the action I’ll always remember.

There were about 30 Royal Cops, all dressed in rags, colored ribbons, paint and make-up on their faces—each carrying an impressive canvas club in his hand. Then there were three Royal babies—each was a fat chief—-and their only adornment was a diaper, and a sun-bonnet, and a baby bottle. Then, too, there were two sailors dressed as girls —and did they look luscious! Lipstick and—well, everything that is required in the make-up of a girl. Then there were four judges, dressed in long black cloaks, with white wigs on their heads— waiting to pronounce the punishment on the guilty offenders.

The first persons to be tried were our two Chaplains. One Chaplain was charged with cheating at cribbage—I forgot what the other was charged with. Their punishment wasn’t so bad, but it was kind of messy on their faces. They each had to eat a blueberry pie without the use of their hands. When they had finished, their faces were covered with pie from ear to ear. Our cameramen recorded the entire proceedings of the trial.

Each pollywog who came before the judge had his hair cut off completely, or else it was cut criss-cross, so that they’d have to cut it off—it looked so silly. After the initiation of the officers, Davy Jones announced that this part of the ceremony was only a beginning—tomorrow when his Royal Highness came aboard,'would be the DAY! Well, we were prepared for it—so we thought to ourselves.

The next morning we had our scalps trimmed off—very bald. About 9:00 the loudspeaker announced the arrival of His Royal Highness, Neptunus Rex, ruler of the raging main. He had with -him a large following, consisting of his Royal Court. The Royal Princesses, The Royal Doctors and Dentists, The Royal Babies, and many, many Royal Cops The loudspeaker spoke: “All lowly, scurvy pollywogs who have dared to enter into the Royal Domain of His Majesty, and have contaminated the waters for one hundred miles around, lay up to the flight deck to stand trial for your atrocious crimes.”

That morning I had received my subpoena and I was charged with trying to steal the anchor chain. (That wasn’t so bad—one boy was charged with gnawing the paint off the bulkheads, another with trying to take a bath in the soup kettle.) The Royal Court was grouped and had been settled down, and the initiation was on. A movie camera was mounted on the top of a gun, recording everything.

Because of the large number of pollywogs, not much time was allowed for each trial. The lowly pollywog was ordered before His Royal Highness and told to kneel, and bow down in reverence. Then, while, in this lowly position, a costumed devil with a pitch fork would give him a few electric shocks from his fork. The he was told to stand, his charges read off to him and asked whether he was guilty or not guilty—which didn’t make a bit of difference. Guilty we were, so off we went, first to the hair butcher where sticky paste was smeared on our bald pate, then to the Royal Dentist—he put soap cubes into any cavity he found; then to the Royal Doctor for a thorough exam., and finally after passing various points of interest (?) we came to the last ordeal—the canvas sleeve. This was a tube-shaped gadget, about two feet in diameter and about 40 feet long; and thru this we were to go on our hands and

knees, and that is where the fun started. (But not for us going thru.) On either side of the sleeve were lined the shellbacks, with their canvas clubs—and, oh! did they ‘lay it on’! When I staggered out the end of it, I felt more dead than alive. Finally, after what seemed like hours, we lowly pollywogs got to the end of the flailing club line, and we were out in the clear—a bruised and sore, but Happy Shellbacks!

I failed to mention anything about His Royal Highness, Neptunus Rex, ruler of the raging main. He was dressed in a white robe, and he had a silver, threepronged pitchfork in one hand— his hair was long and white and his beard covered his entire face, leaving only his eyes and nose sticking out. He had a gold crown on his head. After the ceremony of initiating the pollywogs, King Neptunus Rex made a speech, saying that he was proud of our ship and that all hands had süccessfully passed his examinations and he was proud in welcoming us ex-pollywogs into his Royal Domain as Full-Fledged Shellbacks.

Then the Royal Court, with all the Royal Doctors and Babies and all the Royal Cops paraded down the flight deck followed by the all-seeing eyes of the camera. (Incidentally, I accidentally got into the range of the camera a few times—you know!—it was an accident!)

Fraternally and sincerely,

PAUL KUN.

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THOUQHTS

OFA NEW YEAR

In the coming of this New Year,

We, Americans, often wonder—

Will the termination of war be near,

The ceasing of war, roaring like thunder?

Difference between Dictatorship and Democracy Difference between defeat and victory;

In the New Year, as in the past, finds us ready To fight for the cherished stars in Old Glory.

Perhaps in . this New Year to come,

Many hardships are yet to be faced, The loss of loved ones to some,

Who are never to be replaced.

We’ll pray that in this New Year

The thunder and cries of war shall cease; Every nation shall behold the all-clear;

The world forever shall live in peace.

—EMMA JENE EVANS, Age H Pricedale, Pennsylvania.