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

1944 / Verhovay Journal

*»8* g__________________________Verhovay Journal 2 GOODBYE IN REVERSE—Wishing Red Cross girls goodbye are these soldiers stationed in North Africa. The Red Cross workers are leaving a base in North Africa on the first leg of a journey to distant posts. It’s the Little Things That Count March 10, 1944 V exation You discontented fool, what troubles you? You are bestowed with countless gifts from God; Gifts of music and of art; — The ability to create upon paper; And yet in your disordered mind you are troubled, For you are but one person And a lifetime is not vast enough To fulfill your want for creation. —Elizabeth Kolesar, Branch 296 Box 202, Glassmere, Penna. NOTICE Branch 361. — Cleveland, Ohio The Verhovay Ladies’ Branch 361, Cleveland, Ohio, will hold a Social Evening (Szórakozó Este), at the Verhovay Home on Satur­day, March 11th, at 7:30 P. M. All members and their families and friends are cordially invited to attend this gala affair. There will be good entertainment and refreshments will be provided for the members and guests. A very good time is promised to all who attend. The Humorous Vein The following article was writ­ten on the ground by Miss Rita Hurley, American Red Cross hospital worker in North Africa. The work Miss Hurley and several thousand other Red Cross representatives are doing for our men in uniform is financed solely from the Red Cross War Fund which is being raised in March. The amount needed is $200,-000.000. Everyone who reads this article will want to do his utmost to see this goal achieved. * * * It's the little things that count when you’re working in a hospital where our wounded and ill are receiving the best medical care that modern science is able to provide. Doing the little extra things that the boys don’t expect and so welcome all the more. There was a lieutenant who had been run over by a truck at the front. We went to visit him and, failing to see him because of his weakened state, left comfort articles and cigarettes. During the days of delirium the only thing that remained normal was his love for chocolate, an item very difficult to get. The ward nurses cooperated by using some of the Red Cross supply of powdered chocolate to make him puddings and sauces. Every time I received a package from home with chocolate in it I took it to his ward. The first time he was so pathetic I almost cried. “Is this really for me?” he asked. “Yes, of course.” “All my own?” “Yes, all your own.” It was difficult trying to con­vince him that we were thinking of him constantly and trying to aid the medical authorities to speed his recovery by getting him the things he craved. A box of chocolate received by the patient the week before had been hidden under his pillow to be sure it would be safe. In a short time our patient put in an appearance at the movies at the Red Cross building and although he had for­gotten a great deal that had gone on during those early days he hadn’t forgotten the Red Cross chocolate and our daily visits. Sammy was a battle casualty. One of the unfortunate many who picked up a booby trap and was lucky to escape with his life. He had a leg and arm amputated and would lose the sight of one eye which the doctors didn’t tell him until later, and when they believed he could stand the shock. He was very uncommunicative when I first saw him. His com­manding officer had told me to keep an eye on the daily report and the moment he arrived to go and see him. When I told him his lieutenant had asked for him, his face lit up and he im­mediately asked if I’d write a letter fór him. That was the beginning of a Red Cross friend­ship. Sun glasses were provided by Red Cross so he could go outdoors and join in with the boys on the porch when they played cards and had bull sessions. Eventually, he was promoted to wheel chair, and the boys on his ward took good care of him, helping him to see all the sights and become accus­tomed to being with people who accepted him nothwithstanding his many injuries. It wasn’t at all unusual to find one of the convalescing six footers, carrying Sammy around. His disposition and sense of humor remained untouched ex­cept in those moments when we were alone and he told how he felt about being sent home and his concern regarding his future and the welfare of his family. One of the pictures I shall al­ways treasure is Sammy at the Pyramids on a Red Cross Tour standing on a crutch next to the Red Cross recreational worker with a big smile on his face and a confidence in that smile. A call was received from one of the ward doctors. When I reported to his office he said that he had a request and didn’t know whether or not it came under Red Cross but could we do anything about it? There was a boy in his ward, a lad from Tennesseee who couldn’t read or write, excepting his own name. He was recovering from an opera­tion and would be hospitalized .quite a while. So every day John and the Red Cross worker had a half hour or hour session starting with the alphabet and one syl­lable words. When he was dis­charged he was able to read a letter his mother had sent, and even better, he wrote one back to her. Before, he had always had to find someone to write for him and then someone who would decipher letters to him. As a re­sult of this experience, we have a list of volunteer tutors so that new patients requiring this type of service will be helped. A patient who had been stationed in Casablanca arrived at the office one day and said: “Miss Hurley, there’s a rumor about that you speak French. Is that true?” When informed it was, he explained he had been stationed in Morocco and had met his dream girl but he couldn’t speak French, let alone write it, and all their conversations had been in a weird mixture of Spanish and sign language since she in turn knew no English. Now that they were apart she wrote to him in French which he couldn’t read and he had to write in English which she couldn’t read. So we worked out a system. I translated her letters for him when he received them. Then he wrote back to her but before each letter was posted I translated it into French and he signed it. These are some of the duties of Red Cross hospital workers at the front. They are the little things, the things the boys want done for them when they come down from the Blue. They want someone to visit them in the hospital, someone to give then requests to, someone to check their mail, write home, buy them souvenirs, play them a game of pingpong or dance with them at the Red Cross Club before they’re sent back. They want some­thing to remind them of home and something to hold fast to. They want tangible evidence that the people at home are still thinking of them. And now I know that the Red Cross is that link. I know now thai for the duration there won’t be any glamour attached to this job. I won’t see any action or hear any bombs whistling the air. That’s what I expected and that’s what I unconsciously wanted when I joined, but if I can keep the Red Cross day room open, keep visiting the wards to see the patients and attempt to solve their problems, send con­valescents on tours and parties, and arrange sports activities for them, then the American people as well as the men we serve will continue to have faith in the American National Red Cross. HIS REASONING Jimmy giggled when the teacher read the story of the man who swam a river three times before breakfast. “You do not doubt that a trained swimmer could do that, do you, Jimmy?” “No, ma’am, but I wonder why he didn’t make it four times and get back where his clothes were.” 50 PER CENT OFF The ex-Captain: “What do you mean by telling it around that you were shot six times in the war? You never had a scratch.” The ex-Private: “Well, I was half shot a dozen times.” FAIR ENOUGH “Major, I see two cocktails carried to your room every morning, as if you had someone to drink with.” “Yes, sir; one cocktail makes me feel like another man; and, of course, I’m bound to treat the other fellow.” TURNED DOWN Professor’s Daughter: “Circum­stances compel me to decline a marital arrangement with a man of inferior pecuniary re­sources.” Student Suitor: “Er, ah — I don’t get you.” Professor’s Daughter: “That’s just what I’m telling you.” FOILED Freshman: “Why so down­hearted?’ Sophomore: “I wrote home the other day for money for a study lamp.” Freshman: “So what?” Sophomore: “They sent me a lamp.” GOOD BAIT Catherine: “I shall spend my vacation fishing.” Beatrice: “Then why the new bathing suit?” Catherine: “That’s my bait ” PARACHUTIST Old Lady — “I reallly don’t know how you can hang from that silk thing. The suspense must be terrible.” Parachutist — “No, mUm; it’s when the suspense ain’t there that it’s terrible.” POOR SAP Young Lady (coming in with partner from room where pro­gressive bridge is being played): “Oh, mummy, I’ve captured the booby.” Mother: “Well, my dear daughter, bring him here and let me kiss him.” GOOD ADVICE “Believe me, if my wife scolds me for coming home late, I’m going to tell her a thing or two.” “Don’t do it! Tell her one thing and stick to it.” WHERE THE FUEL GOES (K" It takes 12,500 gallons of ga*a| line to train one pilot. INSURANCE is a crop which will not fail when the time comes for the harvest to be garnered.

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