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The Bluffton news. [volume] (Bluffton, Ohio) 1875-current, July 19, 1945, Image 7

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THURSDAY, July 19, 1945
CHAPTER 1: Scott’s early experiences
with gliders and airplanes. He goes to
Ft. McPherson and enlists In the regular
army as a private.
CHAPTER H: Scott wins the West
Point competitive exam and gets a fur
lough before reporting. He is graduated
as a second lieutenant of infantry and
goes to Europe, which he tours on a
motorcycle. He sells his motorcycle and
arrives at Randolph Field. Texas
CHAPTER 111: Scott makes his first
solo flight Drives 1,300 miles to Georgia
over every week-end to see his girl. Scott
is now graduated from Kelly Field and
has wihgs pinned on his chest. Ordered
to report to Hawaii but wanting to get
married he lays his plight before the
General and is ordered to report at
Mitchel Field N Y.. instead.
CHAPTER IV- En route to New York
Scott is stopped by police who mistake
him for a bandit He carries the mail
for Unci? Sam in order to gain more
flying time, and gets married.
CHAPTER V: The waj edges closei
and he is farther than ever from combat
duty. He has been told he is too old
for combat flying, and after December 7.
1941. he begins writing Generals all over
the country for a chance to fly a flghter
CHAPTER VI: Scott solos a Flying
Portress for the first time and makes
twenty practice landings. He leaves for
India from a Florida point ...
CHAPTER VII: Easter Sunday to Af
rica. They fly along the Arabian coast
and land at Karachi. India, covering
12.000 miles to eight days.
CHAPTER VID: Cot Haynes orders
the group to report at a base to Eastern
Assam, on the India-Burma border.
CHAPTER IX: Burma is falling into
the hands of the Japs. Flying over
bombed and burned Chinese towns they
land at Schwebo. Scott meets General
Stilwell and his party.
CHAPTER X: Scott’s group carries
refugees out of Burma, heavily overload
ing the planes. He pays a visit to Gen.
Chennault and tells him he is a flghter
pilot and- not a ferry pilot and is prom
ised the next P-40 that arrives from
CHAPTER XI: Open season on Japs—
the big adventure is near. Scott gets
his first Jap—an army bomber on the
ground. He burns up some Jap trucks
and a fuel dump.
CHAPTER XII: Scott goes on some
strafing missions with his “Old Ex
terminator.’* as he has now nicknamed
his Kittvhawk, and cuts a Jap battalion
to bits.
CHAPTER XIII: The AVG are told
they are to be Inducted into the U. S.
army. Scott returns to India and con
tinues his single ship raids on the Japs.
He is now known back In the States as
“the one man air force."
CHAPTER XIV: Col. Haynes is moved
to China to head the bomber command
under Gen. Chennault and Scott is left
alone as commanding officer of the Ferry
Command. Scott is ordered to report to
Gen. Chennault in Kunming. China, as
commanding officer of the 23rd Fighter
CHAPTER XV: Col. Scott is ordered
to proceed to the Kweilin area to take
charge of fighter operations.
CHAPTER XVI: He intercepts a flight
of Jap planes and downs a bomber.
His tank is empty but he succeeds in
landing it dry.
CHAPTER XVII: In which Scott tells
about his friend. Major “Tex” Hill, to
whom he owes his lite. Maj. Alison is
hit and-tries to land his crippled bomber
at night
CHAPTER XVIII: Maj Alison, who
had crashed to the river and had been
given up for lost, comes back in a sedan
chair carried by admiring Chinese. Chi
nese coolies and rivermen by means of a
method over three thousand years old
raise and salvage the sunken P-40.
CHAPTER XIX: The lighter side of
life to China. The fight put up by Lt.
Dallas Clinger of Wyoming.
CHAPTER XX: Capt. Charlie Sawyer
crash-lands and is unable to identify
himself. Tribesmen get set to execute
him but some new arrival saves him.
CHAPTER XXI: The "Old Exterml
nator" gets into another fight and one
more Jap will never fly again. The
Kittyhawk is so badly mauled it is
condemned from further use. Col. Scott
gets a new P-40E.
CHAPTER XXII: Another "probable"
for Scott. Lt. Daniels is wounded and
Maj. Bruce Holloway is shot down, but
crash-lands In a rice paddy.
CHAPTER XXIII: Col. Scott leaves on
his greatest mission to date, with Gen.
Haynes in the lead bomber. “Tex” Hill
gets a Zero.
CHAPTER XXIV: On the way back
from Hongkong Scott sees below him Fort
Stanley. British and American prison
camp. A large group of prisoners wave
at his ship as he goes over, and he ex
periences his saddest feeling of the war.
Pilots waiting for the order to go
into the air. Sitting at the crude
table, waiting for the chow wagon
or for an alert. Listening with keen
ears for the jingle of the telephone.
Playing gin rummy or poker, but
hearing everything that was going
on. A player would be dealing the
deck, and in the middle of the rou
tine of dropping a card here, and
one there, the phone would ring. The
card would stop in the air. poised
over the table while we all heard
the Chinese interpreters pick up the
magneto phone and utter the famil
iar “Wey—wey,” as they say “hel
lo.” The card would remain there
over the table, undealt throughout
the telephone conversation—until
the player realized what he was do
ing. Then he’d go hesitatingly on.
Perhaps the call was one of the
hundreds that meant nothing only
the Chinese really knew, and we
could only wait and find out. Then
again, the receiver of the telephone
might drop back into place and the
interpreter would say sdmething to
another Chinese. This second one
would go to the plotting-board, look
at the marked co-ordinates, and qui
etly put a little red flag down over
a certain city towards Japanese ter
ritory. Even then, with one warn
ing only, the game could go on for
a ’'■'n't tirr° in confidenc—*•
Col. Robert L.Scott
A/ I--
nut as the phone kept ringing and
the proximity of an attack became
more certain, the game would get
slower. More and more words would
be left hanging in the air, more
sentences would never end, nervous
laughs w’ould become more frequent.
You’d realize finally that you were
listening to that damned telephone
and to nothing else, and wishing
subconsciously that you could pull
it off the wall. But there would al
ways be more to come, with Chinese
saying “Wey, wey wey wey.”
More little flags w’ould form a line on
the map, and more Chinese would
walk soundlessly across the room
no jabbering from them—it w’as
their business, and they knew when
the flags got to a certain point, or
quit advancing and turned back, that
something would happen.
Maybe at this stage someone in
the game would get up to investi
gate, and would come back and say,
“Eighteen unknown in L-5,” or
“Heavy engine noise to the East.”
It might be the something that let
the tension off a bit, such as, “One
enemy plane over in S-15.” Thefi
somebody else would grin hopefully
and say, “That’s old reliable—he re
ports every
Perhaps the Squadron command
er or the officer who was on the
alert that day would move out of
the game and start looking the map
and the flags over, sizing up the
situation. As the picture formed
and it became apparent that this
w’as a real attack he’d just go over
and tell the card-game about it. Or
maybe two or three men w’ould be
gin to get helmets out. The game
would silently break up, with cards
and CN left where they w’ere. Hel
mets and gloves would be put on.
Men who were pretending to be
sleeping in the bags on the floor
would be awakened.
And the tension dropped off like a
cloak. It wasn’t the actual combat
these fighter pilots feared, for we all
wanted combat more than anything
else it w’as the damnable uncer
tainty—the ringing of a telephone,
an ominous sound that most of the
time meant nothing.
When men went out of the door to
get into their ships and take off
there was no handing to friends on
the ground of last letters to take
care of, no entrusting of rings and
watches to room-mates. For fighter
pilots don’t think of not coming back.
They are invincible, or think they
are, and they have to be that way.
Down in our hearts we may figure
that some accident will get us some
day, w’hen wre are old and gray,
when our beards get in the way of
the controls, or we get to where we
don’t see well or react fast—but we
know that no enemy fighter is good
enough to shoot us down. If that
happens it’s just an accident.
These thoughts are the “chips”
that we carry on our shoulders, and
they have to be there—arrogant, ego
tistical chips mellowed by flying
technique and experience and forti
fied by the motto, “Attack!” Never
be on the defensive. Shoot the ene
my down before he can shoot you
down. You are better than he is,
but don’t give him a chance. He
may get in a lucky shot but you’re
invincible. Move towards any dot in
the sky that remotely resembles an
airplane. Move to attack, with
switches on and the sight ready. If
it’s not a ship or if it’s a friendly
one you’ll be ready anyway, and
your arrogant luck will last a lot
The worry comes before you get
to take off for combat—wondering
whether or not you’ll do the right
thing out of habit. After you’re in
the air it’s all the fun of flying and
doing the greatest job in the world.
You are up there, pitying all earth
bound creatures who are not privi
leged to breathe this purer air on
high. Your training makes you do
the combat work that is ahead with
out thinking about the movements.
Months and years of training
hours of waiting on the ground
high-powered engines pulling you up
and up to the attack—and then in a
few fleeting seconds the combat
is over, your ship is all that’s in
the sky, and you’re on the way home
again to base, whistling and think
ing how easy it was and what a
great and glorious life it really is.
You’re wondering if you can pick
those cards up and finish the game
and take your CN back from Ajax
or Johnny or Mack. You might be
thinking how good that sleeping bag
is going to feel, or wondering wheth
er the transports that can land on
the field, now that the air raid
alert is over, have brought you any
mail “Dog-gone, I wonder if
that woman is writing me?”
Maybe they’ve even made some
mistake back over there in the
States and have sent some new
planes out here, and we’re going to
get the best in the world, planes
that go a hundred miles an hour
faster and climb 4.500 feet a minute
to fifty thousand feet. But there’s
your crew-chief now, waving you in
—and he’s looking at the patches
you’ve shot from the blast tubes of
your guns and knows you’ve fired at
the enemy. Or maybe your “vic
tory roll” w'arned him anyway
Who knows?
Day after day, through the early
part of November, we actually
prayed that the weather East would
clear, so that we could stop our
small, piddling attacks on Burma
and go back to Hongkong. I knew
that General Chennault and Colonel
Cooper were planning a big one
for the next time, for now we had the
largest force of fighters we had ever
seen in China. New P-40’s had been
arriving snail numbers^ but
steadily. The Group was actually
being built up to strength at last.
With the first breaks in the heavy
winter clouds, Bert Carleton was
sent with his transport and our
ground personnel to Kweilin. Avia
tion fuel and bombs were placed
ready for instant use, and I could
feel the tension in the air again.
From the daily reports on the air
warning net it could be seen that
the Japanese had maintained a con
stant aerial patrol over Hongkong
and vicinity since our last attack.
With the first break in the clouds
we sent observation planes over with
A group of fighter pilots on the
alert at Kunming.
a top-cover of several fighters, but
the Jap would not come up to fight
the shark-mouthed planes. His in
structions appear to have been: Wait
for the American bombers.
On November 21, the ground
crews got to Kweilin. Instead of
keeping them in the hostel that first
night to insure that information
would nqt leak out to the enemv,
w’e sent them to town, first casually
remarking that we were here now
for the second attack on Hongkong.
News traveled fast, as the General
expected it would, via the Korean
girls and prostitutes in Japanese
pay. General Chennault knew that
within four hours the enemy would
be waiting for us to strike Victoria
harbor again, for his aerial patrol
over the city had doubled. Our
warning net showed that.
Early next morning our twelve
bombers slipped into Kiveilin, with
Colonel (promoted since the last at
tack) Butch Morgan in the lead
ship. The strengthened fighter force
of between thirty and forty planes
infiltrated for reservice—some went
to Kweilin, others scattered to the
surrounding emergency fields for
better protection of the bombers. As
soon as I landed I ran up to the
cave and the General took me in and
showed me the plotting-board. The
little red flags indicated increased
vigilance at Hongkong. Then I got
my orders: “Strike Hongay.” In an
hour the bombers were off to bomb
the coal mines and docks of that
Indo-China port North of Haiphong.
Morgan sank a 12,000-ton ship that
was reported to have been an air
craft carrier. The fighter escort
strafed ferry boats, small surface
craft, and looked for Jap fighters
trying to intercept. But none came.
That night the enemy sent up a
flight of three bombers to each of
our fields, looking for our forces.
But we were so scattered that their
luck was bad. Night fighters from
all stations took off, but those under
Maj. Harry Pike at Kweilin made
perfect contact. The entire Japa
nese formation of three bombers was
shot down over the field. Pike, Lom
bard, and Griffin each added an en
emy ship to their scores, but Lom
bard was shot down in flames w’hen
the Jap gunners blew up his belly
tank. Lombard had made the tac
tical error of pulling up over the
bombers after delivering fire that
shot one down. We had given him
up for lost when he walked in car
rying his chute—and begging for an
other ship.
At dawn the next day, November
23, I led the group to escort Mor
gan to Sanchau Island with twelve
bombers. We had noted tlfat the
Japs were strengthening the air
patrol over Hongkong even more.
The General had smiled and said,
“We’re making them waste a ter
rible amount of gasoline.”
We saw Morgan’s bombs take out
two of the three hangars on the is
land field, and we' went down to
strafe and watch for interceptors
taking off. Some of the flight got
three, but my plane was hit by the
ack-ack, and when the oil pressure
began immediately to fail, I started
for the mainland and home. With
the oil pressure slowly going from
seventy to fifty and finally to noth
ing, I sweated out my return to
Kweilin and just made it by men
tally lifting the ship onto the strip
between the jagged stalagmites that
seemed to guard our field.
That afternoon I led sixteen fight
ers to escort our twelve bombers
to Canton. Capt. Brick Holstrom,
who had participated in the raid on
Tokyo the preceding April, led the
bombers. As the fighters kept the
new tactical “squirrel cage” about
his formation he deliberately cir
cled to the South of Tien Ho air
drome and covered the target area
perfectly with his long string of
bombs. The anti-aircraft was heavy
and increased as we went en North
over White Cloud field. I looked
back at the results at Tien Ho and
felt a surge of pride at that per
fect bombing from fourteen thou
sand feet. This was teamwork, I
knew now, with bombers and fight
ers properly proportioned. All of
us were mad because the Japs
wouldn’t come up. The bomber
crews had reported them taking off
from both fields and keeping low,
but heading in all directions. The
accurate bombing must have de
stroyed many of them on the ground,
for we had made a feint of continu
ing on South to Hongkong. I sent
one ^hip home with each bomber.
The rest of us hung back and tried
to tempt the enemy Zeros to come
up: but they had evidently received
their orders.,.
Next morning Lieut. Pat Dan els
got up begging the General to let
him lead a dive-bombing attack on
an aircraft assembly plant in Can
ton. His plan was good, and the
mission was made ready. All of
us went down to the alert shack
and watched the ground crew load
ing the little yellow fragmentation
bombs under the wings of six
P-40E’s. A short time later they
were off, with Daniels waiting to
blow up the factory, and all set with
his movie camera to take pictures
automatically as he dove the bombs
into the target.
Three hours later only five of
the six returned. Pat Daniels was
missing in action. His wing man
had seen his leader lose part of his
wing in an explosion on the way in
with the bombs. Anti-aircraft could
have done it, but most of us agreed
from the description that Daniels’
bombs might have hit his own pro
peller. At the tremendous speed
that a fast fighter-ship builds up in a
long and nearly vertical dive, pres
sures are also built up from the in
creased speed. This torque ne
cessitates so much compensating
pressure on the rudder that one
must actually stand on the rudder
control. While doing this, Pat might
have relaxed pressure just as he
reached down to pull the bomb re
lease this would have allowed the
speeding plane to “J-aw” or skid,
and the bombs could have struck the
arc of the prop.
The only note of encouragement
was that a chute had been seen
when the fighters left the target.
Lieut. Patrick Daniels was one of
our best and most aggressive pilots,
and we missed him immediately
—and hoped for the best.
That same night, Johnny Alison
led eight ships in a fighter sweep
and dive-bombing attack on the
docks at Hankow, over four hundred
miles to the North. In the river
harbor, with the sky criss-crossed by
tracers from the ground, Johnny
dropped his bombs on the hangars
and on a large freighter. Then for
ten minutes h§ stated tfce enemy
vessel and badly disabled it. Caj
tain Hampshire dove and shot the
searchlights out until he was out of
ammunition. The night attack so
deep into enemy territory was a
daring one and did much to confuse
the Japs further. Johnny’s ships
were rather badly shot up from the
ground-fire, and he was lucky to
get them all back to base safely.
But it was such missions as these
which built up the circumstances
that would assure the success of
the big attack the General was plan
Next day, with eighteen fighters,
we escorted the bombers to raid
Sienning, an occupied town near
Hankow. We kept the circling move
ment all around our B-25’s and tried
to give them an added feeling of
security by our presence. Through
heavy anti-aircraft fire, Morgan led
the attack in and didn’t waste a
bomb. We left the warehouses in
flames, and there was much less
ack-ack coming up towards us than
when we first approached.
Arriving back at our advanced
base, we refueled and bombed up
again. Then we made the second
raid of the day towards Hankow,
over the town of Yoyang. Once
again Morgan blasted the target,
with black bursts of anti-aircraft
fire bouncing around the formation.
But there was no interception, and
now we were feeling blue. We
couldn’t destroy the Jap Air Force
if they were going to try to save
their airplanes.
We spent the next day, Thanks
giving, working on the airplanes and
resting. We had flown seven missions
in four days, and both men and ma
chines were tired and in need of re
pair. We had a special dinner that
night, but remained extra vigilant
against a surprise by the Jap.
On that Thanksgiving evening, as
we were grouped around the Gen
eral, he brought out a bottle of
Scotch some one h~d i nim.
Mt. Cory
Charles Guin of the Navy and
South Pacific is home on a two
week furlough visiting his mother,
Mrs. Bessie Guin. Mr. and. Mrs.
Cecil Roach and Donald and Susan
of Cleveland are also visiting Bessie
Mrs. Nettie Pitzene returned home
after a two weeks visit in Lima.
Mrs. Tom Hall of Dayton is visit
ing Mrs. Gale Griffith and children
and Nettie Pitzene.
Ruth Ghaster and Chester Huber
called on Mrs. Jennie Ghaster in
Findlay, Sunday.
Mr. and Mrs. George Quimby
spent Friday in Findlay.
Mrs. B. F. Sietz, Mrs. Samson
Sietz and daughters Barbara and
Gretchen of Lima, Mrs. Homer
Clemans and children Teddy and
Nancy of Harleysville, Pa., were
recent guests of Mrs. Laura Guin.
A tureen dinner was served at noon.
The Evangelical Sunday school
picnic will be held at the church on
the 27th of July.
Mrs. Dull Battles and children
spent the past week in Akron.
Ruth Ghaster called on Mrs. Laura
Guin, Thursday afternoon.
For Vigor and Health—
include meat in your menu.
Always ready to serve you.
Bigler Bros.
Fresh and Salt Meats
That chill you felt Sunday was
the real thing record cold snap
for July—temperature dropped to 50
degrees early Monday and fair
weather followed an all day rain on
Sunday, St. Swithin’s day—which is
supposed to forecast the next 40
days ... all of which proves thut
all signs fail in wet weather and
perhaps we shouldn’t believe in
signs—excepting highway signs
and that rising barometer should
bring fishing out of its recent
doldrums and wheat yields In
the Bluffton district making farmers
happy—looks like an average of 35
bushels to the acre and roasting
ear time coming, with sweet corn
shooting ears and boys coming
back from overseas—some with dis
charges and others on furlough get
ting the glad handshake and
final settlements being made after
the Fourth of July rodeo show a
neat sum available for civic improve
ments and speaking of settle
ments, if you haven’t already done
it, better drop in at the postoffice
and lay a five-spot on the line for
that green auto use tax stamp for
more check ups on delinquents are
We noted in this column recently
a tale about a Bluffton merchant
who said he was not superstitious—
well, here’s another one we observed
last Friday—the 13th—a woman who
had a real case of jitters because a
black cat ran across her path as she
was walking down town. As far as
we know, there has no evil befallen
her yet.
If you happen to be in Harrisburg,
Pennsylvania, you might stop at the
state capitol and call on a former
Bluffton boy who has an office there
and who is rapidly rising in the
administrative division of Pennsyl
vania politics. It is Harold Alderfer,
eldest son of the H. A. Alderfers
who formerly lived on South Main
street in what is now the Ed Scheele
Alderfer is the state director of
municipal affairs in the department
of internal affairs—and by the .way
the job is as big as the title. Thru
his office he is in intimate touch
with every municipality in the state
which gives him a wide contact and
acquaintance with town and city of
fice holders.
He is a specialist in municipal
administration and after graduating
from Bluffton college took work in
this field. Besides his position at
Harrisburg he is founder and execu
tive secretary of the School of Local
Government at nearby Penn State
If you can’t get train reservations
these days, there’s always the pos
sibility of going places by air—
which is what Mrs. Betty Triplett
Caris did last week when she went
to Jacksonville, Florida to join her
husband, Lt. Richard Caris who ar
rived in this country after 16 months
sea duty in the Atlantic. Major
portion of the trip—from Cincinnati
to Jacksonville was made in four
‘hours and forty minutes.
Overseas letters from Cpl. Charles
Montgomery, Jr., son of Mr. and
Mrs. Charles Montgomery of Orange
township are a red letter event in
the life of his little sister Sue. She
is thrilled—not by the sights he has
seen in Italy, nor his experiences in
the army—but by the fact that
nearly every letter contains a special
gift for her—a stick of chewing
Scarecrows didn’t do much good
in keeping birds out of his cherry
trees this summer, says Verne
Dardio, living south of town on the
Bentley road. Verne who has a fine
cherry orchard never experienced
any trouble previously from birds
bothering his fruit because in the
middle of the orchard stood an ever­
bearing mulberry tree—and the birds
preferred the mulberries to the cher
ries. However he cut down the
mulberry tree last spring. With no
mulberries in sight, the birds poun
ced upon the cherries with a ven
geance. As a result, Verne may
plant another mulberry tree to at
tract the birds from his cherry trees.
One is likely to run onto Bluffton
people most anywhere in the world
these days and when Dale Reichen
bach navy physical training instruc
tor landed in Guam not long ago,
one of the first persons he saw was
Abe Schmidt of the Seabees which
meant time out to exchange the
latest Bluffton gossip. Reichenbach
is the son of Postmaster and Mrs.
Ed Reichenbach and Schmidt the son
of Mrs. Anna Klapp.
Another meeting of Bluffton service
men, cousins, took place in Hawaii,
when Richard Augsburger and
Robert Stratton spent a day and a
night in Bob’s quarters at the Naval
Good growing weather for every
thing this summer—and that in
cludes hollyhocks one of which has
grown to a height of 10 feet and 3
inches in her garden on West Elm
street, it is reported by Mrs. Fred
Just in event you are looking for
a soap-making recipe we are passing
this along. The housewife who
turned it in says it will produce
a soap that is hard and white and
which floats when sufficiently cured
has no offensive odor and is as easy
In the new maintenance shops of Pan American World Airways at La Guardia
Field, New York, aluminum parts are heat treated with GAS in a large salt bath.
This installation is another tribute to the speed, flexibility, economy and precision
control of this modem industrial fuel. Gas is destined to play an equally important
role in the building and remodeling which lie ahead. Buy Bonds today for the all
GAS kitchen you’ll want tomorrow.
Public Sale
As I am moving to Idaho, I, the undersigned will sell at public
auction at my farm, 3 miles west of Ada on Hardin-Allen county
line road
Tuesday, July 24, 1945
Beginning at 10 a. m.
The following property:
2 HORSES—Draft team 8 and 9 yrs. old, wt. 3800.
29 CATTLE—10 head good milk cows, from heavy milking
strains, Brown Swiss, Shorthorn. Jersey and Guernsey from 2 to 7
years 19 head young heifers and steers from 3 months to 2 years
old also Swiss, Shorthorn. Jersey and Guernsey 2 of this number
are registered Brown Swiss yearling heifers and one registered
Brown Swiss bull, no relation to heifers. These were purchased to
start a dairy herd and will be a real buy for someone.
40 HOGS—10 head registered Hereford sows, to farrow in
August and September 9 gilts registered, to farrow in August and
September registered Hereford boar 2 yrs. old 2 yearling register
ed Hereford boars one fall boar 20 spring shoats. AH hogs im
mlined for cholera and pneumonia. Papers will be furnished with all
hogs eligible to registry.
100 Laying hens, AA-Leghorns.
A full line of farm machinery including Moline corn binder 2
wagons 2 sets double work harness Ward hammermill and electric
Choreboy milking machine.
5 Dickelman hog houses brooder house 12 by 18 like new 2
hog feeders 2 hog fountains hog troughs 2 hog crates.
Majestic 7 cu. ft. electric refrigerator Kalamazoo coal and wood
range Wilcox-Gay console type electric radio 6-tube Belmont
console type electric radio dining table S kitchen cabinets sewing
machine corn dryer 2 kitchen tables 12 chairs library table rock
ing chair occasional chair linoleum rug 12 by 14 new cabinet
grand piano and bench 2 piece blue velour pre-war living room
suite blue 9 by 12 rug and mat made by Oriental Rug Co., hall
tree rug filler for 12 by 14 room large size Ward Heatrola with
new set grates lots of good glass cans 5 gal. barrel churn Vogt
75 lb. white enamel ice box stand 2 Simmons beds with inner
spring mattresses 2 iron beds 3 dressers 2 Axminster 9 by 12
rugs Royal Blue electric cream separator rubber tire wheel barrow
and other articles.
Hay—A quantity of new baled hay: alfalfa, red clover and
timothy mixed.
Harold McClain. Auct.
Ray Long, Clerk
Lunch served on grounds.
on the hands as the most expensive
commercial brand.
Here it is:
“Measure carefully 4 bi pounds of
kitchen fats into an enamel con
tainer. Bring to boiling point.
Empty one can of lye into a quart
of water and stir with a wooden
spoon or ladle until all lye is dis
solved. Add one-half cup of borax
and one-half cup of ammonia. Stir
the fat slowly into the mixture. The
result will be an emulsion resembl
ing thick, sour cream.
“Pour quickly into flat enameled
or porcelain dish to a depth of one
to two inches. Let stand for half
an hour and then score with a knife
(as we used to do with fudge. Re
member?) In another hour the pan
can be inverted and the soap remov
“It will look so attractive you may
be in a hurry to use it. Don’t. Let
it stand for at least two weeks,
better a month, to cure. After this
you may use the soap directly or
shave into flakes. I use my vege
table slicer for flaking although if
you have small children you can set
them to carving out animals and
things and get the flakes as a by
product. I did.”
That solves the soap problem for
all readers who have fats. We see
no reason why they should not use
their fats for their own soap, there
by conserving the commercial supply
which goes to the armed forces.
Scarcity of potatoes on the market
now is due principally to lack of
cars for moving them from produc
ing areas. California has lots of
potatoes and no way to ship them.

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