Verhovayak Lapja, 1943. január-június (26. évfolyam, 1-25. szám)

1943-06-10 / 23. szám

June 10, 1943

represented in this new hardhitting battalion, and Michael is one 0i those y/ho enjoys the honor of serving in the 80th.

Corporal Szopo, with an eager eye toward his future in the armed forces, is busily engaged with hard training. He writes from camp: “I had my furlough and came back last Wednesday. On Friday we moved back to Fort Bragg. Soon we will go to Fort — cr Camp — along the Atlantic to do our usual anti-aircraft firing. That should be interesting as it’s something different from riding in planes and gliders.”

Michael's parents came from Ung megye, Hungary. Dad, from Kisrat, arrived here in 1906; and mother, from Nagyrat, in 1909. Michael’s birthplace is Vestaburg, Pa. And what special interest has Michael, aside from his work in the army? Well, there is the Charming Irene Kish, 3138 Roulo St., Detroit, who serves as his inspiration.

* * *

Pic. STEPHEN ERDODY, And then there’s Steve Erdody,

22nd Company — E. M. M. 78 also of Detroit. Till recently his

entire lifetime was spent in the automobile capital. Now, as truck driver and gunner of a 37 m/m anti-tank gun, he’s done a lot of traveling in his only 17 months of army life. He’s been to places like Los Angeles and points along the Pacific; Michigan; British Columbia; Washington; Dawson Creek, British Columbia, and more, he’s been on assignments to several outposts in Alaska, on the Alkan Highway.

Quite naturally, Pfc. Erdody has served in different divisions. He’s worn the emblem of the famous Red Arrow Division, the Western Defense Command insignia, and the shoulder patches of the 4th Army, 7th Army, and the 1st Army, as well as the 30th Engineers. “T have no parent organization at present as I was transferred from the anti-tank 125th Company. Now I belong to General Headquarters, Washington, D. C. I’m subject to duty With any branch of service.”

Motor mechanics is Steve’s specialty, so he’s attending an advanced school at Ft. Benning. “This is a sort of preparatory Course, prior to going to O. C. S.,” writes he, “as I intend to become a transportation or maintenance officer. I might remain an instructor, as I am now, but if after I finish school, I’m sent to a combat unit, I won’t mind it a bit. They keep us busy here at school, and the routine in general is pretty tough. We’re in school all day and have oodles of homework in the evenings, but 1 enjoy it.

* * ♦

j Pvt. JAMES RISKO, Frank J. Risko, former Chicagoan,

I Company Á new serving in Africa, was

Í301st Q. M. Bn. right in the midst of all the

thick fighting and witnessed the 4Ul render of the enemy forces. Frank was inducted in March 1941, before we got into the world-wide fracas, and he saw service at f t. Sheridan, Illinois; Camp Livingston, Louisiana, and Camp Lee, i Virginia, for varied training, a little of everything: “I am a stock clerk in the supply quartermaster and start to go into training here”, wrote Frankie to his mother in April 1941. And “we were on a hike this morning and it was about 4 miles through hilly, and lough as well as some smooth, territory. We also had a little map reading today.”

From Camp Dix in New Jersey, Frank and other boys in his outfit sailed to North Ireland. He wrote from Dublin, Belfast and other Irish cities, that he prefers good old Chicago much more. Several months ago he sent home some post cards from Oran, Algiers, and he still likes Chicago. These cards, very interesting and picturesque, depict, among other scenes, the Marechal-Joffre Boulevard, the impressive oathedral and statue to Jeanne d’Arc, tne Galliene Boulevard which is lined with palm trees on either side, “Une rue du vieux Biskra” with Arabs in their colorful costumes, as well as the Mosquee et Eglise Saint Louis, “The word Mosquee means an Arabic place of worship. It is very picturesque,” writes Frank, and adds in almost every card that this or that Scene reminds him of good oT Chicago. We hope it won’t be too distant in the future when Frank will return. It’s his home town, Where he attended Lane Technical High School and worked for the Union Special Machine Company. He took great interest in athletics, for he played baseball and basketball with the Chicago Verhovay Branch 164. And he squired some of our best girls to tlie Verhovay dances.

i It’s his home town, as we said, and he’s fighting today so he can come back to it, and take up again with the life and the people he loved.

Just the other week he ■ wrote home: “Nobody back home can realize what it’s like in war without being near it. It’s hell, and t really mean it. Someday, I hope soon, I’ll be able to tell you about it.”

You too can help in this effort, simply by sending in your name so that we can communicate with you about including the biography of your son, sweetheart, husband, brother, relative, or friend serving in the armed forces.

STEPHEN HUZIANYI, Wrightwood Arms Apartments 3259 Wrightwood Avenue, Chicago, Illinois.

that prowls around at night, and scares the heck out of you, when you’re on guard. There the menagerie ends. One soldier wanted to buy a goat, but we all protested; you would understand why, if you lived with a bunch of fellows who took one bath a week. There is enough b. o. here without adding the fragrance of g. o. (goat odor.),

Well, I have to go back to help winning this war at noon; if I want to keep on the job, I’d better get some sleep. I’m saying “hello” to the whole gang at the Home Office; and, the “Ferret”, and all the rest of the Verhovay Readers. Will write again, when I have time. Fraternally,

John J. “Dirk" Phillips

P. S. 75 bombers just flew over, so I know somebody is going to catch it today.

P. P. S. I understand I can receive the Journal over here if it is sent direct from the publishers. Will the editors please see about that for me, as I really would like to get it over here. Thanks. “D”.------------V-----------Whiting, Indiana, May 26, 1943.

Editors of Verhovayak Lapja,

345 Fourth Ave.,

Pittsburgh, Pa.

Gentlemen:

I am the son of Volcsko András, who at one time was a Supreme Secretary of our organization, when it was still in its infancy. He always was a faithful worker of the organization, and had he been alive today, he would certainly rejoice in the size and strength of our association. He worked very hard during the tenure of his office. The salary was small, and the abuse plentiful. (I hope conditions have improved somewhat today).

He surely would approve of the proposed amalgamation or the union of our fraternal insurance organizations, the same as do about 90% of our members today. I fervently hope that it will materialize in the very near future. I am sure it will do the most good, for most of the Hungarian people here in the U. S. A.

The majority of our people here, are of paraszt stock. Godfearing and honest people. They came here to escape the inequalities heaped on them by the ruling classes of Hungary. They came here because opportunities were greater to live a free and happy life. These immigrants helped build this country. They advanced themselves the hard way, thru the sweat of their brows, and their children stand out as fine examples of good American citizenship.

All organizations and American citizens of Hungarian birth or descent, should always be mindful, that in this country, there is room only for one flag. That this country requires the undivided allegiance and loyalty of every individual and organization, regardless of race or nationality.

I have noticed the reluctancy on the part of some of our people, and that, includes some organizations, to condemn the Government of Hungary for their unholy alliance with Germany. We cant escape the fact that they are collaborating, willingly or unwillingly with them. Right now, yes, this ver*

Verhovayalc Lapja_________________________Pase 3

THE MAIL BOA

April 15th, 1943 North Africa Dear Verhovay Readers:

It’s 8:00 A. M., I got off guard this morning at 6:30 A. M., went on at 2:30. We call it the “Graveyard shift”. I wonder why. Well, I am off till noon, now, and instead of going to sleep I am going to catch up on some of my correspondence with this extra time.

Yesterday was an eventful day in our lives. We had fresh beef made up in great, big, beautiful steaks. This marks the first time we had fresh meat since our arrival here on the dark continent. Hitherto, our Mess- Tent’s cuisine had been confined to canned foods, and sometimes even the tin tasted good. Today, we go back to a canned diet.

But, I’m not complaining about the food. I realize how hard you civilians have it. I received a letter from my mother the other day, and she tells me that the neighborhood butcher stopped around our house one day to see if he could borrow a little meat for supper. She got even with him, though; she nicked him for a cup of sugar and a pint of gasoline.

And that reminds me of the Arabs around here. They really like to bargain. If you want to buy anything of them, ask the price. They start off with an atrociously high price, expecting you to bargain with them. We buy eggs of them — around here they can’t get more than two francs. But I understand that up at the front near where the fighting is going on, the Arabs are asking 15 francs for an egg, and getting it. 15 francs is 30 cents in American money.

And speaking about eggs, 1 read before coming to North Africa that soldiers were frying eggs on tanks here. I am still trying to find those soldiers. Last night, on guard, I had on a fur-lined air-corps jacket and fur-lined boots, and I was still far from perspiring. And during the day, even if the weather is a ’little warmer, I still can not

find anything hot enough to fry an egg on.

We used to go about 11 miles in a truck to see American movies; now we go only a mile and a half. I hope the war lasts long enough that we can see movies right here in our own area. Also 11 miles away in a little town, (four houses and some Arab huts), they have a steam-bath run by Arabs, but controlled by the U. S. government. On Friday nights whoever (?) needs a bath can go there. It costs *7 francs for the use of the water, (you bring your own soap), and 5 francs tip to the Arab attendant who washes your back and everywhere else. In fact, sometimes he becomes so wrapped up in his work, he goes over you twice. To get bathed you undress (of course!) and go into a room with a temperature of about 275 degrees; you weigh 150 lbs. when you enter, and 87 lbs. when you come out. That is just the reverse of Chas. Atlas’ course in body building. Well, in this steam-room you wade over to the middle of the room, where there are two enormous stone tubs. One contains cold water and the other hot. There are plenty of buckets lying around, and the attendant uses these pails to dip water from the tubs (mixing the hot and cold water to suit you), and goes to work on you.

When you leave the bathhouse you feel great, and would like to have about fifty dollars worth of steak, but you remember you are in North Africa, and eagerly look forward to canned corn-beef, or canned meat and vegetable stew.

If an enemy ever approached our bivouac area, I’m afraid he would be misled into believing that it was only a farm-yard, because so far one G. I. fellow has a flock of roosters (that wake up the bugler), and hens that provide him with a little extra ration for breakfast. Another soldier has rabbits. He started out with a little pen and two rabbits. He now has a big pen and it isn’t for just two rabbits. Still a third fellow has a puppy

ONE WAY TO BRAND HIM

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