"Neither Heat nor Cold nor ..."

In Old Forge, N.Y., in the heart of the Adirondack Mountains, a pretty, blonde, 18-year-old, 120-lb. girl hoists into her truck as many as 30 mail sacks a day, drives 108 miles through one of the East's heaviest snow belts, delivering mail over a route her father left for war work. When snow piles higher than the running boards of her truck, Mailwoman Ann Gibbs takes to her skis, sack on her back, to reach isolated camps.

This Old Forge system for getting the mail through is only one of the answers to a wartime problem. In one year of war the Post Office Department has:

> Lost 25,000 trained employes to the armed forces and other war services.

> Had many of its 1,800 daily rail carloads of mail held up by troop trains, miss connections.

>Found itself up against it with local ration boards in obtaining gas & tires.

> Tried nevertheless to carry a wartime load estimated at a billion more pieces of mail than in normal years.

To help themselves in their various emergencies, local postmasters are taking many & various steps. In some war-burdened cities like Washington, deliveries in residential areas are being cut to one a day, in business districts to two a day. One of Boston's suburban stations last week got seven horses to pull mail trucks.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.