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tThe Fathers of Aviation Wright Brothers Were Ignored By Home-Town Newspapers By Mary-Carter Roberts. The Wright Brothers By Fred C. Kelly. (Harcourt, Brace.) It is not often that a single biography is. written about two people. In the case of Wilbur and Orville Wright, however, it would manifestly be impossible to approach their lives in any but this unaccustomed manner. They are a composite personality. They are not Mr. Wright and Mr. Wright. They are the Wright brothers. Their labors in aviation appear to have been indivisible, and in the minds of the millions of people who know their names, there is no distinction between them as men, even though Wilbur Wright has been dead 30 years. United they stand, an austere genius which, without ever putting forth any of the so-called colorful or popular qualities, has become a source of warm national pride to all Americans. It Is quite proper, therefore, that their authorized history should be written in the plural number. Here it is. Fred C. Kelly, a veteran news paperman, has had a long acquaintance with Orville Wright, and has written his joint autobiography with Orville’s indorsement. It is, as it should be, almost exclusively a history of work in aviation. There is some accoum. in it of the Wright family—colonial English stock on the father's side, on the mother’s, German, but with three generations of residence in the United States—some account, also, of schoolboy pranks and adientuies and the founding of the now' famous bicycle shop in Dayton. But the great part of the book is given over to the years between 1000, when the brothers firsi went to Kitty Hawk with a man-carrying glider, and 1912. when W’ilbur met his premature death. Fees Absence of Publicity as One of Wonders of Their Career. In those years they revolutionized the world. One can say it with out thought of exaggeration. Yet, as Mr. Kelly emphasizes, they re ceived practically r.o public notice—at least, not in this country. Certain scientific groups in Europe followed their progress with Interest, but in America, and even in Dayton, where their frequent flights were made in plain sight of thousands of people, they got no newspaper notice. In Huffman Field, on the outskirts of that city, in view of two highways and an interurban line, the Wrights flew' a total of 160 miles without even the local papers giving them coverage. To Mr. Kelly, this is one of the wonders of their career, and he devotes several chapters to an analysis of it. He is in a good position to do so, for, as he mentions, he W'as working on a nearby paper himself at the time, and he recalls the pre vailing journalistic attitude. His description is very interesting. As he tells it, there W'as a bad break made in the newspaper treat ment of the now-famous first flight, the one made by Orville at Kitty Hawk, December 17, 1903, when, for the first time in the world, a power plane piloted by a human being rose and flew' sustainedlv. Orville wired the news to his father in Dayton that same day, requesting that the Dayton press be notified—giving the home-town papers a world beat. The telegraph man in Norfolk, how’ever, spotted the message as something big and informed a reporter friend of his. This w'riter, after trying un successfully to get some real information by phone, w'ent ahead and improvised his owrn account of the flight, turning in a story which, as Mr. Kelly observes was 99 per cent inaccurate. This was published with a front-page headline in Norfolk, but of 21 other papers queried as to whether they wanted the news or not. only five accepted, and two of these used nothing. The Dayton papers w'ere among those that kept silent. Mr. Kelly’s explanation is that flying-machine exploits wTere considered crank performances in those days, and “telegraph editors resented having a correspondent suggest that a human being could fly by machinery.” Had Lively Correspondence with European Journals While Being Ignored Here. He continues that this initial slip caused a certain prejudice toward the Wrights, particularly in Dayton, w'here the editors felt an obligation to themselves to prove that they had been right. So, though for several years after that, Wilbur and Orville were flying practically under their noses, they made no news of it. The attitude they adopted was that the Wrights were a pair of eccentrics, comparable to inventors who work at perpetual motion machines. And, since their own papers gave them no important space, other papers concluded that the brothers merited no notice. While this tacit conspiracy was in force in America, the Wrights had lively correspondence with European journals and contributed articles to scientific periodicals in England, France and Germany. It was not until 1908. five years after the first flight, that the long dis belief was broken. That came about when word got around that the United States Government was dickering with the brothers for the rights to their invention. In all that period, says Mr. Kelly, the Wrights bad made no effort either at secrecy or at getting publicity. Yet, when the big-time press really turned its attention to them, it proceeded as if they were knovsn to be excessively reporter-shy. Four eminent corre spondents and a photograther, sent to Kitty Hawk to get the real story, (id nor appro? ch openly but secreted themselves in the woods and watched the flights from cover. It is one of the really comic episodes of journalism, r id is not made less comic by the fact that the brothers knew all along that seme one was spying. A great pa., of the book is technical description of the various models t-ied by th° Wrights, and of the research which they did preliminary to ■ making their successful plane. Their work in aerodynamics was entirely .a pioneer effort, says Mr. Kelly, but it was correct, nonetheless, to a tiny degree of error, and is still the basis of flight calculations. A final chapter deals with the controversy with the Smithsonian In stitution which attended the giving of the first successful plane to an English museum. Mr. Kelly holds the institution guilty of grave miscon duct, in its handling of the Langley model, but notes that in 1942 institu tion officials issued a statement acknowledging past errors. Orville Wright gave this statement his approval. Whether or not the American plane which changed the world will be returned to its inventors’ homeland or not the book does not attempt to say. 7 he Last cf Summer By Kate O'Brien. <Doubleday, Doran.) It is puzzling to the reviewer that any one would want to do another novel on the mother complex, but here one is—serious, detailed and evi dently written with much sincerity. Well, the reviewer has no objec tions. She has no objection if some one wants to write a novel on the mumps, for that matter, or on Bright's disease or the risings. But she suggests that a novel ought to have people in it who are interesting apart from their ailments. She cannot love a hero just because he is a strik ing case of gallstones, for instance. If gallstones are all he has, she will even suggest that he isn't a hero, anyhow. That is the business in this book. A young man is tied to his mama’s apronstrings, and his mama likes to have him there. A young woman comes along and the young man loves her. She loves him. But mama does not want her boy to love any woman but herself, so nothing comes of the promising romance. There you are. Actually. Beyond that, the book gets its filling matter from local color. The scene is set on a country estate in Ireland, and there is a great deal of description of the Irish way of liie on country estates, and of the quaint manners of the almost feudal retainers, and so on. Miss O'Brien, who sometimes has written very well, has in this work followed the recipe for writing which urges that the novelist meticulously observe every thing—the way people move, breathe, eat. sigh, rumple their hair and crack their finger joints—and she has piled the fruit of such observations into her story with a generous hand. There is hardly a conversation in it in which sne does not halt the flow of words at almost every exchange to report on some detail of the speakers’ mannerisms. Tire method, pre sumably, is to make for life. But with a stereotyped story and a cast of pallid people to begin with, no draping in lifelike details is going to accomplish much. You just cannot make people live, somehow, unless they do. So the reviewer has to report that she went to sleep on Miss O'Brien. The bright morbidity of the mother complex, however, is alwavs popular find the novel may very well hit the best seller, as it is known, class. The Fountainhead By Ayn Rand. (Bobbs-Merrill.) There is obviously only one reason for the composition of this long, solid, serious novel. That is a reformer's passion. It seems that for a long time there has been a great lack of idealism in the architect's pro fession in America, and Miss Rand has set out to expose, chastise and. presumably, eradicate that same. She has written a sort of “Arrowsmith'' of architecture—except, unfortunately, that she has none of the bounce which Sinclair Lewis put into his famous set piece on doctoring. She is as heavy as lead, and the course that her book is going to take is perfectly plain to the reader from the end—or middle—of Chapter I on. It gives us a sort of Saniord and Merton of the builders’ trades. There i Harold Roark, the good young architect, and Peter Keating, the bad : cung architect. Harold loves to starve for his art. He rejects all sorts of flattering offers from people who are not truly idealistic about architecture, f id in the end he triumphs in a big way, winning the trial of strength v. h Peter, and also the gal of the plot. Peter has no ideals, he does not like to starve, he takes all the good jobs that he can £et, regardless of pure motives, and in the end—bless your heart—he loses out. So there you are. There is not a living character in it, and it is solid declamation. Y/hen Peter and Harold aren t declaiming, Miss Rand is. The resistance cf the trio to fatigue is genuinely impressive. /Mracle in Hellas , By Betty Wason. (Macmillan.) It has become pretty well established by now that none of the nationalities whose lands have been occupied by the Germans is defeated in spirit. Numerous books by first-hand observers have assured t’.s that Czechs, Yugoslavs, Dutch, Norwegians, Poles, Danes and French r.e resisting their captors in every possible way and keeping alive a flourishing underground movement to speed the day of liberation. The same books tell us, too, that in all these countries the conduct of the Germans is determined by a policy of extermination for the natives, that executions, imprisonment under terrible conditions, planned starva tion and financial ruin are imposed on the conquered with the precision of a book of rules. With Greece as the setting, that is the story that is repeated here. Betty Wason was a radio correspondent stationed in Greece during the German conquest. She was unable to get out of the country before the Germans completed their occupation and was detained—politely—for some weeks thereafter. She was ostensibly given every facillity to see the procedure of the Nazis toward the Greek people In that period. 6he was allowed to visit prison camps and go about freely. Nazi officers from the propaganda department put “information’* in her hands. But 6he reports only the customary tragedy. The Greeks are being extermi nated by the Germans by every means known to the Nazi system, and the Greeks are fighting back by every means which they can devise. 5nat is the sum of her work, it is one more document of despair. .vM , VH KATE O'BRIEN, “The Last of Summer." Howard Coster Photo. BETTY WASON, “Miracle in Hellas’’ — A. P. Photo, j Best Sellers FICTION. Gideon Planish, by Sinclair Lewis. The Forest and the Fort, by Hervey Allen. The Robe, by Lloyd C. Doug las. Citizen Tom Paine, by How ard Fast. Capricomia, by Xavier Her bert. NON-FICTION. One World, bv Wendell L. Willkie. Lee's Lieutenants, Vol. II, by Douglas Southall Freeman. Journey Among Warriors, by Eve Curie. Between the Thunder and the Sun, by Vincent Sheean. Passport to Treason, by Alan Hvnd. ■■ —— .—1 War Eagles By James Saxon Childers. < Appleton-Centuryj Col. “Jim1’ Childers here tells the story of the Eagle Squadron, Amer ican boys who went to England to set up their own fighting unit in the Royal Air Force before our en try into the war. He writes with authenticity, having lived with the Eagles for almost two and one-half years. At first, the young pilots were restrained because they knew he was taking notes and studying i their habits and hobbies for his book. Soon, however, he was like one of the boys, having learned to speak their language and to share their glorious fighting experiences. Pilots returning from battle are met as they step from the cockpit by the intelligence officer of the airdrome, who records just what has ■ happened. Perhaps the young Eagle has swept down on a Messer schmitt 109 and shot it out of the sky. This is recorded as a “de stroyed,” and the flyer is met with cheers from the ground crew. If he runs out of petrol, however, he is greeted, instead, by “the drink”— the English Channel. A simple ; ceremony takes place after an Eagle, i calling “Mayday, Mayday” (British | interpretation of the French j “M'aidez,” meaning "help me”) over ! his radio, bails out. lie removes j his flying boots, throws out his hel | met, shoots the six bullets iri his ; pistol, drops it overboard and has j little time left to pray. - All pilots flying over water are required to wear a bulky flying jacket, affectionately called “Mae West," which, after being inflated, will float. Almost always they are picked up by English rescue boats. "War Eagles” is full of heroes, but it does not lead the reader to believe that only the Germans die. The Germans are good bombers be cause they are taught to stick to gether and not exercise initiative, Col. Childers says, but the Ameri cans and British are good fighters because they crave excitement and cannot stand monotonous convoy duties or coast patrol. In their early fighting days, the Eagles were of little value. Of I night flying, they knew nothing. Their first attempts at it were thwarted by English anti-aircraft guns manned by crews who had not been notified of these night ma neuvers. Several Spitfires returned tb base looking like sieves. How ever, intensive training, with daily pre-dawn flights, taught the Eagles the rudiments of night flying. In the Eagles’ favorite night spot, where initial plans for all their bombardments were laid, final de tails for the famous Dieppe raid were formulated. During this bitter dawn-to-dusk battle, Squadron 71 returned to base three times for re fueling and small mechanical re pairs. The Spitfires, supported by regular RAF bombers and fighters, knocked off more than 92 German planes, “probably destroyed” 27, “damaged” 117 and started count less fires while suffering but one casualty. An accurate account of a World War II Allied flying unit, “War Eagles,” is a man’s book, written in a man’s language. Its illustrations include diagrams of aerial dog fights, photographs of British and German anti-aircraft units and searchlights in action, charts of RAF insignia and planes, pictures of German aircraft and reproduc tions of official British Air Ministry films. Intimate slants on Eagle lives and ambitions, stories of their wives and sweethearts, and snap shots of Eagles at the airdrome tend human Interest to the book. ERWIN BROWN. AYN RAND, "The Fountainhead.” —Ben Pinchot Photo. -—A Books About the War By Ethel A. L. Lacy. In charge, War Reading Room, Central Library. In earlier times it didn’t matter much what civilians thought while a war was in progress. Today’s public opinion is of major importance as an adjunct to the fighting forces, but it must be an informed public opinion. How can the civilized way of life and democracy be saved? Are we on the road back to the Dark Ages? vvcutci n. myei ana L-iay vjcss nl their book, “Education for Demo cratic Survival,” believe that the reason we are in such a tragic sit uation today “is because a quarter of a century ago we fought a war that we didn't understand. We didn't know what to do with victory when it came; didn't know how to organize and maintain peace; didn't know how to handle our own do mestic problems.” In education lies the hope of the future, but it must be an education converted to the needs of democracy as effectively as industry has been converted to war needs. Food for Thought. Those who have failed to give consideration to the religious as- j pects of Hitlerism will find food for j serious thought in “It's Your Souls i We Want.” by Stewart W. Herman,! jr. Mr. Herman was for six years prior to the entrance of the United States into the war pastor of the American Church in Berlin and for part of this time wras a member of the staff of the American Embassy. From his observations, it is evident that the Nazi regime is more serious and disastrous to souls than to bodies. The challenge is to Chris tianity throughout the world. The title of Wendell L. Willkie's recent book, “One World,” is in reality the main conclusion drawn from the experiences of his 49-day trip around the world. "The net impression of my trip,” he says, “was not one of distance from other peoples, but of closeness to them." He returned entirely convinced that America must assume a major re sponsibility in the affairs of this one small world we call the earth. Why War Came. In the first chapter of “Let the People Know',” Norman Angell has posed a string of “questions, doubts and misgivings" about the war and its outcome "which are present in the minds of immense numbers of average Main street Americans.” and in the last chapter of the book he answers them seriatim. In the words of the author, “the war has come upon us because we have re jected the elementary social truth upon which all society is based, namely, that the most primary right of all—the right to life, the right net to be killed and tortured—can only be made a reality by the gen eral fulfillment of an obligation, the obligation of men to defend that right on behalf of others.” In this age of visual aids, perhaps it is not surprisihg that Cecil Beaton's “Air of Glory” is such a fascinating and sobering collection of photographs of the "flower of England's face.” Here are vignettes, more poignant than the written word, with simple captions allowing the imagination free range: "Night Watch of the Fire Squad.” “Potatoes in Kew Gardens,” "Demolition Squad Smiling Against a Back ground of Ruins” and, at the very end, “Group of Little Children.” These and other books on war and peace may be found in the war read ing room of the Public Library. Eighth and K streets N.W., and many of them may be found also at the branch libraries. Circuit of Conquest By Reiman Morin. (Knopf-) It is a deep satisfaction to have a war book, for once, which is thoughtful rather than heroic. Reiman Morin’s ‘‘Circuit of Conquest” Is 1 the book, and it is genuinely attractive. Mr. Morin represented the Associated Press in Tokio for three and a. half years. He had been familiar with the Orient much longer than that, and as much by the sixth sense that a good reporter develops as through anything else, he felt sure that something was brewing. Or did he? Mr. Morin never grows didactic, and he is not much given to explaining happenings by hindsight. Perhaps it was merely that he had a hunch. Typically, he decided to do something about it. He decided that if Japan planned skullduggery, it would be to the south, so when Max Hill relieved him in Tokio, he set out. By chance (or was it chance?) he covered almost exactly the route Japan covered a little later—a circum stance that led the Japs to charge him with espionage in the end. Mr. Morin went to Shanghai, to Manila, the Dutch East Indies, Singapore, Thailand and Indo-China. There he was interned after Pearl Harbor, spent some bad moments with the secret police, and was at last released. He does not know, even now, whether it was the kindness of a certain Japanese colonel that saved him, or something else. Shanghai was a ferment, not a productive ferment at all. In Manila it was obvious that the Philippines could not be defended, that the Japs were underrated. Down in the Indies there was a different tension— there the Japs were bargaining with the wily Dutch for more oil, and withdrawal of the Japanese mission. But there also it was evident that Mr. Morin was never sure just what was the reason behind the sudden withdrawal cf the Japanese mission. But there also it was evident that the Dutch could not hold out, using sharp bamboo stakes for defense against parachute troops, lacking planes and everything else needful. Singapore was contemptuous of the Japs: Thailand was hostile to the whites: Indo-China was, by the time Mr. Morin arrived, in the hands of the Japs and doggedly refusing to recognize the fact. This is a relaxed, vividly written, intelligent picture of the Far East at the moment the dam broke. JOHN SELBY. I Seek My Prey in the Waters By Squadron Leader Tom Dudley-Gordon. (Doubleday, Doran.) The battle of the Atlantic is not just on the sea—it is in the air, too. Day in and day out, through all kinds of weather, the planes of the Coastal Command, part of the Royal Air Force, have flown in search of German U-boats and enemy convoys, and kept a vigilant and protecting eye on their own convoys. This book is a series of anecdotes, telling of the adventures of the men who fly and fight in the Coastal Command. Placed together, these stories outline the dark hours which military leaders faced with the fall of France, of Holland and of Norway, of the battle of the British against superior numbers, and of the campaign to clear the English Channel of enemy shipping. The book has been written by three public relations officers, who have signed themselves “Squadron-Leader Tom Dudley Gordon.” The men of the Coastal Command have performed monotonous duties, but they have taken part as well in some of the most dramatic actions of the war—the attacks on the Scharnhorst and Bismarck, the retreat from Dunkirk and attacks on enemy shipping to aid Russia. Playing a prominent part throughout were such American-made planes as the Catalina flying boats, the Lockheed Hudsons and the Liberators. The authors are to be congratulated for their skillful job of weaving the stories together. BAINBRIDGE CRIST. I TOMii mmmmm FRED C. KELLY, -The Wright Brothert." « \ il' A RELMAN MORIN, "Circuit of Conquest —A. P. Photo. JAMES SAXON CHILDERS, “War Eagles.” Brief Reviews WAR BOOKS. Wanted: Women in War Industry, by Laura Nelson Baker (Dutton i — A handbook.to war jobs in factories, with a directory of places to apply. Is China a Democracy? by Creigh ton Lacy (John Day)—An examina tion of Chiang Kai-shek’s govern ment which comes to the conclu sion that the regime is one of the great democracies of history. Clausewitz on the Art of Warfare, by Lt. Col. Joseph I. Greene (Long- : man)—A study of the great strate gist’s work as it applies to condi tions of the present war. Postwar Economic Problems, edited by Seymour E. Harris (Mc Graw-Hill)—A discussion by 23 ex perts, illustrated by statistical tables and not for laymen. How to Fly an Airplane, by Ber nard Brookes (Consolidated) — Basic flight instruction by a well known flyer. According to Doyle, by Jerry Doyle (Putnams)—A cartoon his tory of World War II, with accom panying texts to cover the course of events. Fighting Fleets, by Critchell Rim ington (Dodd, Mead)—New edition, of this survey of the world's navies, brought up to date. Over 300 photographs and drawings. How to Prepare for Military Fit ness, by Lt. Col. Francois D’Eliscu (Norton)—A book of evercises with directions for the performance of same and sketches to illustrate. They look very strenuous. The Squad Goes Out By Robert Greenwood. (Bobbs Merrill.) Robert Greenwood, an unde niably competent author, has chosen here a theme which calls ! for greatness rather than sound ! literary technique. “The Squad Goes Out’’ is a novel about four British A. R. P. volunteers who learn in London’s bomb-torn streets to put country and service above all personal fear or ambi tion. More than that, it is an at tempt to prove that courage and strength are inborn qualities shared by all democratic peoples and need only times of greatest disaster to weld the many classes of a nation into selfless unity. If Mr. Greenwood's talents are not equal to the grandeur of his theme, there Is still much good writing and an occasional phrase or scene to make the reader feel he holds more than a swift and ab sorbing novel. One such is the moment when a bomb tears the facade from an East End build ing, and Chester Browning, squad leader and somewhat snobbish architect, is made to see wThat his professional detachment has rarely let him consider—that houses are not cold blueprints, but the homes of men. Browning and all the characters are singularly well handled, for the author has mas tered a double task. Each is a realistic individual in himself, and each must represent a portion of the English people; Lawson, the sullen, discontented Socialist: Old Dadda, the philosophical watch maker to whom time and eternity were one and bombings trivial in the inviolable world of the Inward self; bluff Bill Battersby, the cock ney, and even Browning, who wore an old school tie and couldn’t at first, identify himself with the humble people—all united through common courage in what Winston Churchill has called “England’s finest hour.’’ We in America have heard much of the English people who worked and lived valiantly through the brutal air raids of the Battle of Britain. We need no novels to strengthen our respect and admira tion, but when we have them, one cannot help but wish they could be more than good stories. The sincere life that has been given to Mrs. Minniver is lacking in “The Squad Goes Out,” and certainly a book about the common people in the same time of greatness does call for more than the tech nical proficiency Mr. Greenwood has given it. MEL SABRE. OWN'AFAR!! A mall fans mure* life long *ecurity, healthy living. But you mutt know how to choose, finance and nut it. FIVE ACRES AND INDEPENDENCE tells you how,, at tUa book already has told thousands of otF— SIN at IKOREM: PMI Army Doctors at Work Medical Corps Officer Tells Story of Their Achievements Victories of Army Medicine By Col. Edgar Erskine Hume, Army Medical Corps. (Lippincott.). In this exhaustive treatise, Col. Hume writes an absorbing story, a story of Army medical progress in non-technical language for laymen that should occupy every public and private library in the country, and be read and re-read by all persons in the public health field. “The Medical Department of the United States Army has ever striven to enlarge the frontiers of life,” the book concludes. “While carrying on the duties devolving on it as a branch of our military establishment, it has found time to add greatly to the sum of science's learning.” Preventive medicine in World War II incl\ides immunization of all rajiks against yellow fever, tetanus, typhus fever, cholera and plague. In addition, each soldier must carry 12 sulfanilamide tablets for direct appli cation to wounds, and each individual's metal identification tag, worn at all times, is stamped with the blood type, thus saving valuable time should transfusion become necessary. Readers will appreciate the story of Walter Reed’s proof that yellow fever is transmitted and spread by the mosquito, a discovery that later made possible the construction of the Panama Canal in a zone where this plague once raged. Gen. (then Maj.) William C. Gorgas insisted on making the Isthmus free from disease before the operations on the canal were commenced. Does the average reader know that the Army Medical Museum is the world’s largest? That two medical officers of the Army founded the oldest American medical school, that of the University of Pennsylvania? That our Weather Bureau owes its origin to the Army’s medical depart ment? That an American military surgeon wrote the first American text book on surgery? That ours was the first Army to adopt compulsory prophylaxis against typhoid fever? That medical officers in the Army kept the first reports on which American vital statistics are calculated? That the Army brought the campaign against venereal disease into the open? That the Army has discouraged drunkenness? That flight surgeons have a record of accomplishment in working with the Air Corps? And that the large-scale use of blood plasma and sulfa drugs has saved hundreds of lives in this war? Col. Hume sheds light on Gen. Winfield Scott's aversion to drunken soldiers by quoting an order he issued in 1832: “The general, therefore, peremtorily commands that every soldier or ranger who shall be found drunk or sensibly intoxicated after the publication of this order, be com pelled, as soon as his strength will permit, to dig a «rave at a suitable burying place large enough for his own reception, ttS such grave cannot fail soon to be wanted for the drunken man himself or some drunken companion.” This book, a magnificent contribution to Army medical knowledge, possesses a range dhd interest a layman hardly would expect to find in a professional treatise. It is a volume worthy of a man who has been decorated by 35 countries and has represented the United States at 11 international scientific congresses. It is a pleasure to commend it. ROBERT C. HARPER. Khaki Is More Than a Color By Sergt. H. H. E. Marsden. (Doiibleday, Doran.) We have here another book about the life led by the inductee in the United States Army. It is not one of those funny things, which represent the career of the just-fledged soldier as a continual slapstick routine, nor is it a straight handbook on what the rookie can expect. It is a sort of cross between the two. It tells in a day-by-day first person narrative, almost as if in a diary, of the duties and adventures which an inductee goes through, from the day he receives the summons to the completion of his training. Sergt. Marsden Insists that he writes as a completely average soldier. His background, ideals, ambitions, tastes, habits and morals are, he reiterates, a common denominator of those Qf the species American boy. One gathers that he comes from a moderately comfortable middle-class family, has had a good bringing-up and some cultural background, normally would expect to get a job and support himself, and has no particular talents, but a good mind and a wide-awake curiosity. From this point of view he describes the conduct of single men in barracks, 1942 model. The toughness which one associates with the profes sional soldier is altogether lacking from his narrative. His boys are home sick or scared or full of rather juvenile high spirits. Most of them have never had a gun in their hands previous to their entry into the Army. None of them like Army life, but they accept it with good will. They do not glow with patriotism. Their enthusiasms are for time off, dates, cokes, movies and high jinks—though Sergt. Marsden admits that the strains of “The Star Splanged Banner” always gave him “goose flesh from my heels to the top of my head * * * meant to me all the stories I had read as a kid about Indians, Pilgrims, Thanksgiving feasts and w’agons rolling across the prairies to the West.” After such an emotional outburst, however, he feels it incumbent to justify himself and adds, defensively, “I suppose that this seems like a lot of corn to some people, but it is the way I feel.” Okay, sergeant. Nobody is complaining. It is, on the whole, the story of a good young man. It is easily possible to foresee the time when soldier memoirs will take a bitter turn, and such sunny accounts as this will be considered superficial and unrealistic. That waits, however, for the end of the war and the emergence of a new crop of Faulkners. Hemingways and Dos Passoses. At present, it seems quite probable that Sergt. Marsden's claim that his attitude is the average one is justified. M.-C. R. .- ■ ■ -.. . .i ■ - " 1 ' —1 Just Published— "THE NEW PHILOSOPHY OF PUBLIC DEBT" By Harold G. Moulton Does an unbalanced budget threaten the financial stability of the nation? Is a huge public debt a national asset? The most crucial economic issue of our time is analyzed in this volume. 93 Pages $1.00 Brookings Institution, Washington, D. C. f READ THE BOOK v SEE THE FILM f Gtmrteuff k 26th Century A< L 4 The HU of the Nation! Hj My Friend I FLICK AI By MARY O’HARA Have you read this story of a boy, an out law horse, and a mother who understood? For month after month enthusiastic readers ^RH have kept it on the nation’s best-seller lists. ^RR| Now it has been made into a grand motion ^HR picture starring Roddy McDowall. Read the book, then see the film. A Story Press