The NEW BERN
, I—
M '"•BUSHID WeiKLY
5t rw- 5^0
NEW BERN, N. C. 28560, FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 1973
NUMBER 47
Yesterday was when every
w« in which the U. S. was in-
wived produced a hardy crop of
«*«»». Not until Vietnam
did the American service man
go forth to tMittle without sturdy
smport flrwn the tunesmiths.
Here on the home front, our
most recent major conflict on
foreign soil was as unromantic
M it was unpopular. Never
before have so many bled and
died without the acclaim long
reserved for fallen heroes.
Millions singing or whistling
war songs, back in the States,
couldn’t keep a soldier alive,
but at least it was a healthy sign
that he wasn’t forgotten. Only
our armed forces in Vietnam
were largely ignored.
George M. Cohan, whose
spirited Over There was the
most popular of many great hits
during World War I, is oft
quoted as saying, “Let me write
the songs of a nation, and I care
not who makes its laws.’’
So tremendous was his music
in boosting the country’s morale
during those grim dEays, that
later he was presented a special
Congressional Medal. Irving
Berlin later received a similar
award, after World War II.
You’re a senior citizen, or
close to it, if you recall Just A
Baby’s Prayer At Twilight, Til
We Meet A^in, and How Are
You Going to Keep Them Down
On The Farm, After They’ve
Seen Paree.
Everybody wrabled them
while the American Ex
peditionary Forces, com
manded by General John J.
Pershing, fought valiantly at
the battle of the Marne, Somme,
and in the Meuse-Argonne, to
name just a few.
President Woodrow Wilson, in
his declaration of war against
Germany after the Lusitania
was sunk, said we were
preserving the world for
democracy. Unfortunately, the
preservative had little lasting
power.
At least Wilson tried. He was
foremost in proposing a League
of Nations, following the Ar
mistice, and died a heartbroken
man when his own government
failed to go along. How greatly
it changM history.
You couldn’t have found so
much as a single radio in New
Bern’s living rooms and parlors
during World War I, but
everybody who wasn’t com
pletely destitute had a
idiionograph, and records by
John McCormick.
Gene Austin, destined to
become rich and famous shortly
thereafter because of his My
Blue Heaven rendition, was yet
to make his first record. At the
moment he was serving as an
army bugler.
World War II was indeed
notable for its songs. Who
among you oldsters can forget
There’ll Be Blue Birds Over The
White Cliffs Of Dover, The Last
Time I Saw Paris, and When
The Lights Come On Again All
Over the World?
Frances Langford, above all
others, was the most listened to
singer. Her version of You'll
Never Know, and her equally
a
Sprtt-OIratirit Cdomtftj pitbltr
WHERE ARE THEY?—This photo of three
youngsters shopping for valentines at one of New
Bern’s downtown stores first appeared in The Mirror
quite a number of years ago. Billy Benners snapped
it, andnow as then it catches the mood of the young at
heart. Sorry, we can’t identify the trio, but someone
among our readers undoubte^y has the answer. We
hope that in growing older the three have found
happiness, while clinging tenaciously to a few of the
things that makes childhood a wondrous time indeed.
And for all of us, this picture will serve as a poignant
reminder that we too, in the distant past, carefully
chose just the right message of endearment, to
convey to somebody very special. First loves are
hardly ever lasting, but are never completely
forgotten. So, whatever your age, may the clock turn
backward for you on Valentine’s Day, and fleetingly
refresh your memories of a certain boy or girl.
I aii\« iivi ^i|uaiijr
appealing I'll Be Seeing You,
elevated b
her to the heights.
(Continued on page 8>