MR W/NKLE
"Sfc> GOES TO MX
11 W.N.U. RELEASE
ar ? rarivi?n. ? ..
year-old Wilbert Winkle, wke operate! a
mpalr shop In the sUey hack of his home,
? eotlied by his draft hoard that he li
h 1-A. He breaks the had news to his
domineering wife, Amy, who becomes
soddenly tender. Mr. Winkle Is sent to
Camp Squibb, where, after graduating
Worn Motor Mechanics school, he leaves
gar home oo a furlough. Amy hardly
knows him, and his dog harks at him
gnidoosly. Mr. Winkle and his friend.
Iff. Tinker, soon and themselves on the
high seas In a huge convoy. They
Mod oo the Island of Taliso and report at
ens of the repair shops. Some of their
friends are also on the Island. There Is
a bad mist, that might screen Japs.
CHAPTER XII
Mr. Winkle pulled his steel helmet
wiore securely on his head and
pressed on the accelerator of the
ear. ?
The jeep shot oil the road and
?long the sand trail leading to the
beach. The command car stood
where it had been left, in a partially
cleared space enclosed by low
palms. Mr. Winkle stopped along
side it.
As they got out. he glanced at the
lent, set at one side among the trees.
Ordinarily, the off-duty members of
the machine-gun crew would be loll
big or sleeping there. It was empty.
Up on the low ridge, fifty feet
?way, a helmeted head appeared
above the sand. It was the Alpha
bet. Recognizing them, he waved
briefly and then disappeared.
"It ain't like him," Mr. Tinker
ebserved, "not to be hospitable to
bis friends."
Mr. Winkle took their tools from
B?e back seat of the jeep. His
bands shook a little. He pulled his
helmet still more securely over his
bead and said, "We'd better get to
work."
"We can take a minute," Mr.
Tinker said, "to see what's going
an up there."
Reluctantly, Mr. Winkle followed
him to the ridge.
They didn't receive a very warm
welcome. "If you got to come here,"
Sergeant Czeideskrowski snapped,
"get down in."
They scrambled below ground lev
el, hunching themselves into the fox
The jeep shot off the road and
donf the sand trail.
hole, crowding Freddie, Jack, and
die other men who sat listening at
tentively or kneeled to stare out over
the ocean.
Freddie, at the machine gun,
whose snout pointed across the
leach, greeted them, "Maybe
ftu're just in time for the perform
ance."
The Alphabet picked up the field
.dephone. He identified his post,
?stened for a moment and then
said, "Yes, sir . . . No, sir, it
lasn't lifted yet."
He put the instrument down and
told his visitors, "That was your
loss. He wanted to know if you got
lere. Like you heard, I didn't give
?way you being with us, but you
letter get back where you belong
and beat it as soon as you're
torough."
They went, Mr. Winkle with alac
sMy and Mr. Tinker with regret.
From out over the sea there came
a sudden roar. Guns began to spit
virtually at the same instant.
"DuckI" yelled Mr. Winkle. He
l dropped the wrench he was holding
, and dived under the command car.
Lying there, his heart beating so
tost it seemed to equal the rapid
Iring of the guns, he expected Mr.
i linker to join him.
I Instead, he heard the quick firing
\ of a Garand. He could see Mr.
Tinker's feet and part of his legs,
braced to take up the shock from
Ihe gun.
| The plane came over. It appeared
to knoyr exactly where to come.
The firing stopped.
Mr. Winkle opened his eyes.
Again he saw Mr. Tinker, who
was now standing halfway to the
ridge. He was reloading his rifle
and looking malevolently at the sky.
The plane came back.
Once more it spit heavy death
from its nose, and lighter, more gen
tle death from its wings. Mr. Tink
er fired right back at it.
It wasn't until a moment after
me plane had gone again, out over
the ocean, that Mr. Tinker's arms
dropped and the rifle slid from his
hands.
His voice choked and gurgled when
he called, "Pop . , . Hey Pop . .
Then he crumpled, like something
stiff gone soft, folding up and sink
ing to the ground.
Mr. Winkle, watching this from
beneath the command car, couldn't
believe at first that it was actual.
It had happened too quickly, too
much without warning to be any
different from field tactics in which
picked men simulated those hit
when the planes came over.
Then he realized that the plane
hadn't been a friendly one.
He crawled out from beneath the
car and got to his feet. His legs
seemed to function automatically,
without any volition on his part, as
he made his way to Mr. Tinker.
The blood spreading over Mr.
Tinker's chest made him sick and
weak. He bent and touched him,
whispering his name. But Mr. Tink
er didn't answer.
Mr. Winkle realized something
else. When the plane went over the
second time the Alphabet's machine
gun hadn't fired.
From the fox hole now there came
no movement. All about there was
silence.
He ran to the ridge. He arrived
breathing hard, not from exertion,
but from excitement. He gasped at
what he saw.
One of the shells from the plane's
cannon had exploded in the fox hole.
The bodies of the men lay about,
some of them half buried. Freddie
was sprawled over the gun, as if
protecting it. Sergeant Czeideskrow
ski was on his back, his open eyes
staring straight up at the burning
sun and not blinking. In a tangled
pile, Mr. Winkle caught sight of
the side of Jack's still face.
A single thought ran through him
repetitiously. How will I ever tell
the Pettigrews? He asked himself.
How will I ever tell the Pettigrews?
The sound of surging water made
him turn his head.
Out of the mist had come a fiat
nosed Japanese assault boat.
Behind it, but somewhat off to
either side, were two more.
Mr. Winkle sank to his knees,
both to get out of sight and because
his legs wouldn't hold him up any
more.
After a moment, he knew that he
must do something. He realized that
the whole position on Talizo might
be lost if the men in those assault
boats ever landed and infiltrated
through the jungle.
He found himself scrabbling about
in the sand of the fox hole for the
field phone. It wasn't in sight.
He saw the Signal Corps wire lead
ing up out of the hole. He grabbed
it, and started pulling on it.
A broken piece of the shattered
phone came into his hands.
He dropped it from nerveless fin
gers.
Helplessly, Mr. Winkle watched
the leading assault boat come on.
Now it was less than a hundred
yards from the beach.
He looked back at the jeep. Un
less the bullet holes through its
windshield meant more than they
appeared to, the car would still run.
He could get back in it to give
the alarm at the next post.
But by that time, the Japs would
have effected their landing.
Mr. Winkle wished that it was not
he who had been placed in this posi
tion. He wanted, fervently, for it to
be another man, a fighter, a killer, a
younger, a different, a better man
than he. It flashed through his mind
that it had been a mistake to draft
and make a soldier out of a mouse.
He felt guilty at not having resigned
from the Army. A different man
here now, in his place, would have
known what to do.
Then Mr. Winkle knew what to do.
It occurred to him that he hadn't
thought of himself, of his own safe
ty, when considering getting away
in the jeep. He had thought only
to give the warning of what was
happening.
Also, he saw Mr. Tinker lying
sprawled out there on the ground.
He remembered how he had ducked
under the command car while Mr.
Tinker fired his rifle. The recollec
tion made him feel craven, especial
ly when now Mr. Tinker would nev
er get his Jap.
He decided that he must get him
for Mr. Tinker.
There were the Alphabet, Freddie,
Jack, and the other men to think
about, too. It infuriated him that
Sergeant Czeideskrowski lay dead.
It made him see red to think that
after Freddie had been made into a
decent person, he had been killed.
His brain seared with a hot flame
at the thought of Jack.
It seemed to be the most natural
thing in the world to pull Freddie's
body from the gun. Swiftly, he ex
amined it. The gun was intact. It
needed only a new belt of ammuni
tion.
He clawed about in the sand and
among the bodies for an ammunition
box. He stepped on soft flesh and
didn't mind it.
Digging furiously, he found what
he wanted. He stripped the nearly
spent belt from the gun, and in
serted a fresh one.
As he worked he knew how good
and wise it was that he had been
trained to operate a machine gun.
He wished that he was better at it
But a rising surge of confidence
made him cure he would be good
enough.
The first boat was nearly at the
shore. Mr. Winkle sighted the gun
for the spot he figured the men
would be when they stepped out.
That was what he had been taught.
He still had a moment. He em
ployed it by coolly taking off his
glasses and wiping them dry with
his handkerchief. He wiped his face
and neck, both of which streamed
with sweat.
He glanced about.
This was where he would die.
He had often wondered in what
circumstances and in what locality
it would occur. Now he knew. It
wasn't such a bad place. He saw
it almost for the first time, the wav- |
ing palm trees, the flowering hibis
cus.
He liked it.
It was romantic.
Amy, he thought, would be glad
to know it was such an attractive
place.
It occurred to him that for the
first time in his life he wasn't afraid
to die. He even exulted in it. He
heard his voice. He was laughing.
He felt released from hard, painful
bonds. He knew that, at last, Wil
bert George Winkle, in the flesh and
not in a newspaper headline, was
proud to fight.
He turned back to the gun. It
was nearly time.
The assault boat beached in shal
low water. Men started jumping
out and splashing through the wa
ter. He could see their faces, brown,
slant-eyed, expressionless. Mr. Win
kle let them all get out. Then, care
fully sighting, he squeezed the trig
ger.
There was a snap and a Jerk.
The gun jammed without firing.
Frantically, he worked at the gun.
One finger caught in the mecha
nism. He tore it away. Blood
spurted, but he paid no attention.
He kept picking at the jammed
cartridge. Finally he got it out, and
a new one in the firing chamber, the
gun prepared properly.
Five men had run ahead, oil to
one side. Mr. Winkle swung his
gun around, concentrating on them
first. This time the gun fired. He
was astonished to see the men fall.
He wasn't sure if one of them got
away.
He swung the gun back, spitting
vengeance at the larger group. As
the bullets spat out from under his
hands, a still new and greater world
opened before him.
This was what he had lived for.
Life had a meaning and a purpose
of which he had never dreamed.
IWHwffvm'
He iprayed (be milling men down
there.
He had a mad, blind desire to an
nihilate and destroy the enemy. It
seemed like a torrent pent up in
him for years and spilling out in
one overwhelming rush.
He sprayed it on the milling men
down there. That burst was for
Jack. That one was for Freddie.
This long one for Mr. Tinker. Now
one for the Alphabet. Still more for
the other men. Wilbert Winkle, who
operates The Fixit Shop, first mar
ried selectee in the 36 to 43 draft
age group to be called, is killing
these enemies of his country. He is
anxious to defend the four freedoms.
It's worth any sacrifice, if need be,
his very life.
Wilbert Winkle wanted more ene
mies to kill when all these were
gone, when no one stood on his feet
in the writhing, shrieking mass on
the wet sand.
He saw more at the approach of
the other two boats. Quite calmly,
without excitement of any kind, and
not realizing he was following Army
procedure painstakingly taught him,
he inserted another fresh belt of
ammunition.
Instinctively, as If something told
him to, he looked behind him, over
the edge of the fox hole.
A Jap officer was stealing his
way toward him. He was the one
who had got away from the group
of five. The swarthy little man was
between the cars and the body of
Mr. Tinker.
Mr. Winkle grabbed tha nearest
rifle. Ha swung H into position to
fire, resting it on the edge of the ,
fox bole.
(TO M* COMTWUZD) 1
V
IMPROVED
UNIFORM INTERNATIONAL
Sunday i
chool Lesson
By HAROLD L. LUNDQUIST, D. D.
Of The Moody Bible Institute of Chicago.
Released by Western Newspaper Union.
Lesson for October 29
Lesson subjects end Scripture texts se
lected end copyrighted by Internstlonsl
Council of Religious Educe Hon; used by
permission.
THE CHRISTIAN MOTIVE
FOR LIVING
International Temperance Sunday
LESSON TEXT?Psalm ?:M: Luke 4:4:
John 6:35; Roman. 11:1. 1: 11:11-14.
GOLDEN TEXT?Saek those thiol, which
arc above.?Co Ionian. 1:1. Q
Disciplined living should be the
goal of each of us. Life is not to be
lived carelessly, influenced by
chance events or passing impulse*.
Such discipline of life would keep
men from the temptations which
lead them into intemperance and
sin.
A life can be properly disciplined,
only as it is controlled by Christian
motives. Such a life has
I. Spiritual Gladness (Pa. 4:9-8).
The psalmist had faced the dis
tressing questioning of men who
derided him for his faith. They were
unbelievers who demanded of him
what good bis religion did (v. 6).
He has an answer, and it is the
testimony of his own experience.
Those aVound him sought glad
ness in the harvest of grain and in
the wine which was supposed to
give a lift to their spirits. This was'
their joy. Well, the man of God had
something infinitely superior. He
had gladness in his heart It was
not dependent on outward circum
stances?it was within.
Then note, too, that it did not rest
on something that happened, or on
some fellow man. "Thou (God)
hast put gladness In my heart."
That means real joy and satisfaction.
n. Spiritual Food (Luke 4:4; Jbhn
8:35).
It is delightful to have true glad
ness, but man needs food if he is
to grow and to work. That is true
spiritually, for he must have the
needed nourishment of life here
also.
Jesus when tempted (Luke 4:4)
because He was hungry saw beyond
the temporal need, and declared
that life should be controlled by a
higher principle. The spiritual has
a t'laLo ui bu(h ciiiawj uvci uic
physical in the life of the Christian
man or woman. The body with its
desires is to be subject to the defi
nite control of the spirit, which
takes its orders from God.
The explanation of the awful alco
holic debauchery of our day is found
right here. Men have given their
bodies the supreme authority and
they are driven by the lusts of their
flesh. What they need more than
legal reform or restriction of sale
of liquor (and we believe in both)
is the regeneration of their souls by
the grace of God in Christ Jesus.
Let us bring them the gospel.
John 6:15 makes known the fact
that Jesus, the bread of life, satis
fies every need of men. Every nor
mal hunger and thirst finds full sat
isfaction in Him. Have you tried
Him as the One to meet the need of
your hungry heartT
m. Spiritual Sendee (Rom. 12:1,
2).
"Reasonable service," says the
Authorized Version; "spiritual serv
ice," says the Revised Version. Both
are right. The man who is really
reasonable will be spiritual and will
render to God . a sacrificial service.
Note that it is a "living sacri
fice" that is said to be "holy, ac
ceptable to God." This is not s case
of a single act of deep devotion
(great as that may be), but a going
on in the daily walk to live for
Christ. That calls for grace and
power, and He is ready and willing
to give both to each of His chil
dren.
That experience with God means
a non-conformity to the world,
which is too little spoken of and
less practiced in the church to
day. The one who professes to fol
low Christ is simply not to be con
formed to the ways of this wicked
world. There is to be a completely
transforming experience of the
grace of God, that takes you out of
this world while you are still in it
IV. 8piritail Walk (Rom. 13:12
14).
Christians are the children of the
morning. They walk in the light (I
John 1:7). This world walks in
darkness. No one needs any argu
ment to prove that point?just look
about you.
The deeds of darkness are evil
deeds, and men dwell in darkness
because they love evil (John 3:19).
That means that the children of
light must walk circumspectly and
"becomingly" (that's a good word!)
in this world. Thus we may attract
others out of the darkness into the
light, so that they too may put aside
"reveling and drunkenness," yes,
and also "strife and jealousy." Those
go together.
The way to victory is to be
clothed with the Lord Jesus and His
righteousness (v. 14). That is a real
"armor of light" with which we may
be protected.
Note also that we are studiously
to avoid making any provision for
the desires of the flesh. Put such
things away, and with them will go
the temptation to use them. Some
professing Christians need to beed
this word by destroying some
beverages which they may have on
hand?just to give one example.
??n I
wT
Heill I^Uagat
1 HOLLYWOOD
rjREGORT PECK la tha hottest
^*thing In town. Some say he is
a second Gary Cooper. Actually he's
the prtt Gregory Peck.
Critics went all out about him In
"Days of Glory"?but not tha pic
ture.
He co-stars with Ingrid Bergman
in "Spellbound," which Alfred Hitch
t o e k directed.
He s the only
male star except
Gary Cooper
whom I n g r i d
Bergman has ev
er been able to
look up to. Peck
is 6 feet 2. This
lanky young man
has not been
built up by des
perate Hollywood (
studios scurrying
?r? nlloiriata
jlrecory Peck
?w uut'ioiu uic awute uidie anui v
age.
Greg was a pre-medical student
at the University of California when
he took part in a school production
of "Anna Christie" and decided to
give up medicine and become an
actor. He got his first real break in
the Katharine Cornell play "The
Doctor's Dilemma." That decided
him to become an actor. But before
that he was a member of the Bar
ter theater in Abingdon, Va.
He was a stroke on the Bear crew
that rowed at Poughkeepsie in 1938.
Lowly Beginning
Peck's first professional experi
ence in showmanship was as a
barker on the Midway at the New
York's World's fair.
In a contest he won a two-year
scholarship to the New York Neigh
borhood Playhouse. Between semes
ters he won the Barter theater
award.
Guthrie MeClintle saw him in a
Barter theater play and engaged
him for the tour with "The Doctor's
Dilemma."
Made his Broadway debut in "The
Morning Star."
Played juvenile lead opposite
Jane Cowl in "Punch and Julia."
Also played male lead opposite
Martha Scott in "The Willow and
I" and opposite Geraldine Fitzger
ald in "Sons and Soldiers."
Received no less than a dozen
motion picture offers before he ac
cepted the RKO-Selznick contract.
Strictly Pergonal
Gregory Peck's wife, Greta Rice,
is a nonprofessional.
He is modest, intelligent, and con
servative. He is prouder of his small
son than he is of star billing. He's
a collector of "how to bring up
babies" information. He boasts that
he pins a mighty neat diaper on his
young son.
Greg says that if as an actor he
has to have a hobby, the help short
age has fortunately provided one for
him. He is a pretty fair and passably
energetic gardener.
Greta and Gregory Peck do very
well without night clubs. Their
favorite entertainment is visiting
with half a dozen friends. Greg
likes discussions?any'subject.
He swims and rides, but his ten
nis is bad, and he's never mas
tered golf.
Behind the Scenes
Peck is a quick study. He learns
a page of dialog merely by read
ing it through twice.
He always had stage fright at
dress rehearsals. This tenseness
lasts several days of shooting on
each picture.
He doesn't believe the "hoity
toity" attitude stage actors have to
ward the screen is justified. For
his money some of the best actors in
the world are right in this town.
He's under the spell of Alfred
Hiteheoek. Says, "It's a privilege
to work under his direction."
He'd like to do one rootin', tootin'
western. His enjoyment of horse
back riding has something to do
with this ambition.
One Appearance
Greg's father was a druggist in
San Diego. He'd always wished
that he was a doctor. Greg had a
great devotion to his father?still '
has. He decided that if his father
thought doctoring was the ideal
career, doctoring was for him.
At the University of California
Greg studied medicine.
Then cams the school production
of "Anna Christie." With that one 1
appearance he discovered he really
liked acting.
When he finished school he left for
New York.
He applied for the job as a guide
at Radio city. Then came his schol
arship to the New York Neighbor
hood Playhouse, which was followed
by the Barter, theater award. And
he was on his way up.
Woald Hamlet Poet?
O, my gosh! The Hays ofTlce has
put a ceiling on the number of
bodies you can have in a western.
New it's eight. . . . Producers are
mighty sensitive, too, about gun
women on the screen these days.
Are they afraid it might give soma
Hollywood ladies an idea? . . . Elisa
beth Taylor is star stuff in "National
Velvet," as I predicted she would
be. In "Hold High the Torch." she's
also starred. . . . They've also got
the raven, Pete, who barks like a
dog.
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Natives of the Coral sea ha v.
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Far sighted Boss* Didn't
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The old millowner had very
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One day one of the oldest hands
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"You want next Friday off, eh?
What in the world for?"
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is this going to happen every 25
years?"
/r MARY m
I MARTIN
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