Monday, Feb. 26, 1945
Noms de Guerre. In Fort Lewis, Wash., one Arthur Admiral signed up for service in the Navy. In Pensacola, Fla., Chester O. Ensign Jr. was commissioned a Naval ensign. At Camp Beale, Calif., a new arrival was Private Kemp Beale. Fighting side by side with the Third Army, a 2nd Lieut. Patton outranked, in his platoon, a Private Eisenhower. Missing in action in Luxembourg was Chief Warrant Officer Ralph States, son of Mr. & Mrs. United States of Ridgway, Pa.
Lullaby. In Chicago, Pfc. Floyd Robertson, back home from the South Pacific, could not get to sleep until he curled up on a bench in the Brookfield Zoo, surrounded by shrieking parrots.
Lion Cub. In Niles, Mich., the local Lions Club planned to confer honorary life membership on Fred Banke, aged 86.
Repeat. In Wooster, Ohio, College Professor B. F. Yanney, mathematician and astronomer, pointed out that if calendars for 1945 are scarce, old ones from 1934 are exactly the same.
Dirt Cheap. In San Francisco, Harry Vensano, Public Works director, demanded that the city hold up a $12,375 Payment for soil delivered to a city park. His objection: the enterprising contractor had dug the dirt out of city streets.
Happy Birthday. In Brazil, Ind., entered on the court calendar for February 22 was the divorce case of George Washington v. Martha Washington.
Special Delivery. In Arlington, Va., expectant mothers requiring the services of the Red Cross were instructed to telephone one Mrs. Willis Stork.
Animal Kingdom. In Providence, R.I., State Labor Director William L. Connolly reached for an aspirin, swallowed a pill for his wife's petunia plant instead, grew panicky, was calmed by an agricultural expert who informed him that he had merely taken the equivalent of 18 bushels of horse manure and had nothing to worry about.
Is Left Right? In the South Pacific, an Australian unit scheduled to take over the ground defense of an American base thoughtfully learned to drive on the right-hand side of the road instead of the left, ran into a roaring traffic jam on arrival because U.S. troops had thoughtfully learned to drive on the left.
Yes, You. In Springfield, Mass., a motorist sniffed at his share-the-ride passenger, muttered "I smell skunk," drove nervously on, finally glanced into the back seat, saw there a skunk, frozen but smelling fierce.
This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.