FROM September 14, 1943 TO May 29, 1945

                                        Submitted by Ron Woodward

[The Keewanus Bullaton was started by the Kiwanis Club of Wabash at the beginning of WWII as a news letter to servicemen.]

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SEPTEMBER 14, 1943
     This is the night of Sept. 9th 1943.  At 9 o'clock this morning saw the "kickoff" of the biggest Bond 
Drive ever attempted in the History of the World.  15 BILLION for the nation, and ONE Million TWO 
HUNDRED thousand for Wabash County.   What an assignment, but apparently we are supposed to raise 
that amount of money for Bonds.  And we all hope we do, but if we do, EVERYBODY, and I mean EVE- 
RYBODY is going to have to buy, and not only one bond, but all they can rake, scrape and borrow must go 
into Bonds.  There is too much buck passing going on at this stage of the game.  True enough, the War 
news is good, but we haven't won yet.  The rank and file of the people even yet haven't become serious 
about this War.  There is too much money being made by the common run of people.  It has gone to their 
heads.  This Bond Drive is their chance to prove their Patriotism.  When you consider that with a county 
population of 27,000 people, it means about $45.00 per head for every man woman and child in the county, 
rich, poor, middle class, and that means that we in the Kiwanis Club not only have to dig deep, but we have 
to do a lot of selling to our neighbors, and our friends, and employees.  Let's back our own Kiwanian 
Claude Minnear to the limit in this campaign.
The State Kiwanis Convention will be held in Indianapolis Sunday and Monday, Sept. 26 and 27.  Alva and 
myself have been appointed delegates from Wabash and we will be there of course, and will see to it, that 
Wabash gets a good report as it deserves.  Would be pleased to have several more with us.  Two sponsored 
candidates for Governor, Clyde Hunter of Gary and Jack Rhoades of Indianapolis, both good men.  Your 
delegates are unbiased and uninstructed.
     Bob Hassler is O.K.  With plenty of horse sense, full of enthusiasm, and firm in his convictions, he is an 
asset to Wabash in no uncertain way.  Works like a fool, says what he thinks, and let's the chips fall where 
they will.  He told us that the only reason he didn't belong to the Kiwanis Club was because no one asked 
him.  We need fellows like him in the club, workers, who aren't afraid of exhausting themselves a little bit 
for the good of the community.  The drive for Community Service will go over alright as he don't let any- 
body rest until they get what has been assigned to them.
     Poetry?  The boys are beginning to pour it into me.  Here is the latest, and I got it separated from the boy 
who sent it and I don't know where I got it.  But it's good.
1.	Up, up, my lads the moon is fair                  3.  We'll comb the land, the clouds the seas,
        We've work to do in upper air,                         Until we find the Japanese
                Cargo, tonight, as you must know                    And when we do, we'll fix them so
                Is T.N.T. for Tokyo.                                         They'll not return to Tokyo.
2.	 Avenge Pearl Harbor and Battan?               4.   So, gather, Eagles, in your might
 Hell, Yes, We'll do that, every man                  A battle brood that's fit to fight
 And, Time is near, when we will sew               Equipped with men and planes to fight, 
 Our righteous wrath on Tokyo.                         We'll blast the Hell out of Tokyo.
     Let's have plenty of poetry and some good stories from you boys in service or tell us some unusual 
experience (in strict confidence) that we can broadcast to the rest of the gang as it is getting larger and 
larger.  As you read this, you can hardly think of a fellow you went thru school with here in Wabash 
that isn't on the list and reading the Bullaton too, and unless you are all liars, you are getting a tremen- 
dous lift from it.  So kick in and help make it good.  On the next page, I am tracing a cartoon from a V 
mail letter from Charley of a cartoon that he made over in New Guina, that his buddies have sent back 
home by the dozen exploding the common belief that the island beauties are anything for the American 
girls to worry about.  Maybe I can't copy it, but I'll try for after all he had to et his artistic ability from 
somebody.  In addition to flying the Liberator, Charley has found time to paint a couple life size nudes 
for the Bar and for the Officers Mess or quarters, a portrait of the C.O. and his design was accepted to 
be painted on the nose of all the ships in the Group or Sqdrn.  It keeps him so busy he can't write his 
old man, which is O.K.  News?  Barrells of it.  Who do you suppose was home this week?  When I 
read Bill Fishbacks letter to the club asking for Junior Vroomans address and Jim Gurtners too, Jim 
was sitting right there and heard it read.  Both Jim Gurtner and Frank Hettmansperger were at home.  
Jim lit out for Bloomington right away looking for a little lady who used to live out by Spikersville.  
And, as I came down North Miami St. the other day, I see Marlyn coming toward me hand in hand  
with a soldier, and I thot to myself,  "Oh, oh, Marlyn has slipped and I was supposed to keep my eye 
on her", but I adjusted my glasses and then I saw it was Frank himself, so I grinned, waved and passed 
by.  Frank was in S.S. Sunday morning and gave the boys a big talk.  I hope Gurtner gets back from 
Bloomington by next Sunday.  Glad to see them both.  They tell me too that Frederick Routt is back 
from Greenland.  Hitchhiked.  By the way, Bob Baer, did you know that Bob Alger is down there at 
Camp Peary Va. With you?  Here's his address Robert Gene Alger, AS USN Plt 6016 Area D 11 Brks 
123 Williamsburg Va.  Bob Baer's address is S1/C Plt, 6619 Area D Brk 5-113 Camp Peary, Va.  Get 
together boys.  Doc LaSalle, did you know that Major John Biggerstaff is also in Sicily.  His address 
48th T.C. Sqdrn 313th T.C. GSrp APO 760  Postmaster New York City.  Wonder what's happened to 
Dr. Lorin Slegelmilch?  Give, Doc.  We are anxious.  Here is something.  We have a baby epidemic.  
Jim Guthries wife has a baby, and both wife and baby now doing fine.  Congrats, fellow.  The same 
happened to Fred Clupper and to Howard Karns.  That's swell.  Keep up the good work.  And boys, 
remember Fred Morrow, the old pole vaulter from way back when, he slipped home last week and 
married Mary Volpert from Peru.  The "noose" finally got Fred, and Fred got one of the finest girls 
ever produced in Peru.  By Gosh, here is another, Olvier Goodlander, married a young lady from Van 
Couver.  Don't know the girl but she got a good Wabash boy.  We all wish them luck.  And they'll 
probably need it.  Had a swell letter form Pvt Francis Brady Hdgrs Battry 820th AAA (A.W.) Bn. Fort 
Bliss Texas.  Would like to hear from his friends.  Bowling just started in earnest this week, Hank.  My 
new ball is working just fine.  Tomorrow night the High School F.B. team starts the season against 
Kokomo. K. has a 190 lb line.  Our kids are green but willing.  Anything can happen.  Tell you about it 
next week, but heres hoping.  If those kids don't leave my muskmelons alone, the whole team will be 
ruined, because those I don't kill will be locked up in the Hoosegow.  I made the mistake of planting a 
patch of melons right next to that field back of the H.S.  I don't care for myself but I planted those mel-  
ons for a couple old widow ladies, and it ain't right for the kids to steal melons from a couple old lad- 
ies.  I should have had more sense.  Cut two of my punkins in two last night, and walked all over my 
pickles.  Say, Junior Vrooman, Pvt Everett (Stuffy) Sumpter Co 36 Sec H 228 M.A.D.-Navy Pier 
Chicago Ill wants you to write to him.  Thanks Everett for your fine letter.  Stick with your athletics as 
much as you can.  You are one of the most natural all round athletes turned out of Wabash in years.  
Glad to get you letter too Pvt Manuel Sposeep Co B 65th Med Trng Bn Camp Barkley Tx.  Yes, I've 
heard it is hot downs there.  He says the spirit is fine, 100% Americanism, and that they are working 
hard to hurry and defeat the Axis and get back to the old home town.  We're going to have a town by 
the time all you boys get back.  Am glad you like the Bullaton so much.  Bill Rogge says it seems like 
a year since he last left Wabash, but as long as he gets the Bullaton and keeps the old spirit that it gives 
him, he guesses he can hold out.  Sure you can Bill, and I will get you that letter you ask for.  Hope 
you can live up to what I put in the letter, Now, boys, no way thru but I must quit, or I won't have 
room for the stamp.  Homer  
SEPTEMBER 21, 1943
     Thursday night is usually the night I set aside to write the Bullaton, but tomorrow night is Bond 
night at the theatre, and I must be there.  Therefore we get this out on Wednesday night this week.  
You know I am just wondering about something.  It is now almost three year since I first started to put 
out this Bullaton, and there have been just two weeks that I was unable to mail this to you.  What Jerry 
Jontry said in a letter sometime back has some merit.  He said, "This war is a terrible thing.  The boys 
in service have to fight the Germans and the Japs, and you Kiwanians have to stay home and listen to 
Homer Showalter."  A jest to be sure, but still carries some merit.  Why not let's do this.  This time, 
and it won't be long, lets put in someone else for secretary, and let them write the Kiwanis part of the 
Bullaton, a let me take care of the boys in service.  That would give you a variety of idea, and maybe 
put some new life into the Club.  I mean it.  Think it over.  Last week we had a swell program in all 
respects, except that there were to many of you boys who weren't present to hear it.  Principal DeLong 
from Chippewa High School gave us a very interesting talk on the habits of bees, and the making of 
Honey.  Won't you fellows who are in the habit of missing about every other week, make a real effort 
to get there next week?  We know you are busy.  We know you have your own business and all you 
manufacturers are doing a swell job of turning out what the boys need at the front.  We know that me- 
mbers of the Kiwanis Club sit on or head about every war activity in Wabash, but when Tuesday noon 
comes, you can drop other things for an hour and a half, and come.  Claude Minnear is working his 
guts out this month to raise that almost unthinkable goal of $1,202,000 for Wabash County during 
September.  You Kiwanians are doing your share.  We say "Hats off to Claude Minnear" for the per- 
sistent manner in which he has pounded these drives over in Wabash and Wabash County.  But you 
fellows can surely see from the reading of these letters from the boys what a necessary job that is.  We 
can't afford to wrangle about the way things are bugled in Washington.  We know the boys have to 
win and they need food, ammunition and supplies at the front, and its up to us to provide it for them.  
Phil Eskew made a good talk.  If they need Kiwanis women to work at Honeywells and will let them 
work when they want to, then some of our women should go down and help them out.  Mrs. Lower, at 
the Union Coffee Shop, the other day, pointed out a woman going toward Honeywells, who was not 
only on Welfare a few years ago but was sick half the time.  After she got this job, she hasn't seen a 
doctor since, and hasn't called on the welfare either for anything.
     Here's a story for Don Miller of the Local Finance to think about.  Jim:  "Were's Pete lately?  Joe: 
"Haven't you heard?  He got three years for stealing a car."  Jim: "What did he steal a car for?  Why 
didn't he just buy it and not pay for it like a gentleman?"
     A little girl said to her mother, "Mamma when I grow up and get married, will I have a husband like 
Father?"  "I don't know, dear," said the mother, "very probably."  "And if I grow up and don't get 
married, will I be an old maid like Aunt Mary?"  "Perhaps," replied the mother.  The little girl thot it 
over for a while and then, remarked, "Mother, its sure a tough world for us women, isn't it?"
     A venerable Negro was asked how he was getting along.  "Fine, fine," he remarked,  "jest fine.  
Jesus is leading me and the government is feedin' me."
            Here is one for Harold Wolf and Harold Burkholder over in England to "explain" to the WAAVS. 
       They probably won't understand it.    
     Winston Churchill recently hailed a cab in West End and told him to drive him to BBC, where he 
was scheduled to make a speech to the world.  "Sorry, sir," said the driver, "ye'll have to get yourself 
another cab.  I cawn't go that far."  Mr. Churchill was somewhat surprised and asked the cabbie why 
his field of operation was so limited.  "It hain't ordinarily sir," apologized the driver, "but you see, sor, 
Mr. Churchill is broadcasting in an hour and I have to get 'ome to 'ear him."  Churchill was so well 
pleased that he pulled out a pound note and handed it to the driver, who took one look at it quick and 
said, "Hop, in sor, T'ell with Mr. Churchill."
     Speaker:-"I have lived in this town all my life.  By actual count, there are fifty five tap rooms and 
saloons in the town, and I am proud to say I have never been in one of them."  Voice:  Which one is 
     Well, boys, it's one of those dark and rainy nights like when you used to stand inside Gacky's door- 
way, and watch the water run down over old Abe Lincoln sitting over there across the street on the Co- 
urt House lawn.  And then you go so loud that Gacky had to call you down and threaten to throw you 
out.  Remember?  And it is terribly quiet down here on E. Canal St., but I ain't scared as Walter Dye or 
Zenno Mallott will be strolling past any minute, and rap on the window.  Yes, the old town is doing 
things.  Honeywells are busy doing a wonderful war job, and so are he seventeen other plants in Wab- 
ash.  People are working, making money, too.  I guess, although I don't see much of it, and they are 
going to spend it this month as the Community Service Drive is on now, and so is this big Bond Drive.  
We have a big assignment but we will do our best to raise it.  We got to back up you kids who used to 
run across our backyards on Halloween.  We won't forget you or let you down.  I hate to tell you this, 
for it is bad news.  Yesterday, the Vandegrifts had word that Ward had been missing in action since 
Aug. 21st.  He was flying on all these last missions over Sicily and Italy in a B26 Bomber.  Everybody 
is just sick about it, but I believe he will be reported later as a prisoner like Billy Barker was.  Ward sat 
in my office here with his wife for an hour or so on his trip home, and is one grand fellow.  I am hop- 
ing and praying that he will turn up somewhere over there.  I am expecting to get a letter someday 
from Bill Barker, who is in a prison camp.  Reminds me that I received a letter today from PFC Fred 
Hoeffer, who is guarding prisoners out in Kansas.  Fred says, "I don't know Lt. Barker, but I hope he is 
getting the fine treatment that we are giving German officers in this country.  All they can eat, and 
even all the beer they can drink.  But they don't appreciate it.  They won't believe that Italy surrend- 
ered unconditionally, and they say the Germans will win, but it may take twenty years."  Fred says that 
they are tough nuts to crack, that they actually do think they are a super race.  He further says that he 
would just like to see one of them try to get away so that he could take a crack at him.  Swell letter, 
Fred.  Then, too, just this morning I had a V mail from Duke Bridegroom.  Says he thinks he is on the 
same island out there in the Pacific as Charley is.  He says when he hears those big planes go over, he 
can just imagine old Charley sitting in there driving one of them.  Duke says he is now going to be 
where he won't have a chance to write to all you fellows, but says to tell you to keep up that corres- 
pondence coming to him and also the Bullaton.  Don't worry about that Duke.  I appreciate the fine 
things you said in this letter.  I wish I had the space to print it here.  Had a grand letter from Pete 
Martin from England.  Here's his address S/SGT Paul F. Martin, 15085061 30th Depot Repr. Sqdrn 
%Post M New York N.Y. APO 635.  The same day I received your letter I got one from W. Harold 
Burkholder and he has the same APO. number 635.  That means you are at the same place.  Harold, 
write him, and you will find Pete.  It has been done repeatedly thru the Bullaton.  Write again Pete, and 
you too Harold.  A card here from A/C Clyde Dawson, C V Class 44 E Gp S Sqdrn 267 AAFPS-
SAACC San Antonio Tx.  Say, in Camp McCoy Wisconsin, there are four Wabash boys, George Jolly, 
J.P. Jones, Bill Clark and Lt. William Cowgill.  George, get them together.  Dorothy Walker, we've 
added a WAVE to our list.  Ruth L. Allen Y3/C USNR-W Brks 5110 Wave Qtrs D Nebraska and Mass 
Ave NW Washington D.C.  Write her boys, she's a good gal.  Let's hear from you too D.W.  The boys 
all mention you.  Are there any wolves in Okla?  Did you have that date?  Letter from Lewis Anderson 
USNTS Co 1089 Great Lakes Ill.  The boys are all coming to S.S. when they get their furlough.  Ever-  
ybody wants to know about the F.B.T. at the H.S.  Got beat by Kokomo last Friday night, but boys 
looked very good.  What a grand bunch of kids.  Outweighed by 20 lbs per man, they played like fools.  
George Parks is the ground gainer this year.  But, some good boys on that team.  Play Elwood over 
there Fri. night.  We'll beat them.  Bill Milliner, Yarnelle twins, Sam Schlemmer, Charley Show, do 
you remember that game in '35.  Never will forget it.  Forward passing that would make N.  D. look 
like pikers.  Never saw a H.S. team like that one, and I have seen them all since I used to crawl under 
the Carroll Street fence when I was 6.  Days of Levy Murphy, Tot Colbert, Red Milliner.  Come on 
boys and write me.  Stories, experiences, anything of interest.  Quotations from your letters have been 
used here in the Bond Drive for past 10 days.  If a few of you birds don't write me, I am going to cut 
you off the list.  What in the devil is the reason I don't hear from Bob Yarnelle?  Wallace Jones new 
address 35584887 %P.S. New York City APO 7185.  A little auburn haired girl from up on Stitt St. 
brought your new address in.  P.S.  Last night I gave you the bad news on Ward V.  A phone call from 
Mrs. Van (Wards wife advised his folks she had received letter from fellow Pilot who saw his plane 
shot down but that all six of crew bailed out and landed in Italy, undoubtedly German prisoners.  Being 
a German prisoner is bad enough but is much better than the other.  We are much elated. 
SEPTEMBER 28, 1943
     Well, fellow Kiwanians, lets say "Hat's Off" to one other Service Club in Wabash that has turned a  
nice trick, and paid a real tribute to or boys scattered around the world from Wabash County and that is 
the LIONS CLUB.  They have worked for nine months to secure the 1936 names of men in service 
from the county, have raised the money, and done a lots of work themselves on the actual construction 
and painting of the board.  It is 8 feet high and 32 feet long and placed on the southeast corner of the 
Court House lawn facing Wabash Street.  Reed Dickover, especially, has worked hard on the success- 
ful conclusion of the project, as well as the rest of the gang.  Old Duff McGriff, of Gas and Oil fame, 
reverted to his old trade and painted names on the board until he literally was "black in the faced".  
Wish we had a out of this board to send out to our 225 boys now on the list.  It's a fine contribution for 
the Lions to make and we do appreciate it.  That kind of 100% cooperation not only helps win the war, 
but keep old Wabash right out in front.
     Fellow Kiwanians, do you know that our whole list was present last meeting and except one man 
that could possibly be there.  That is the spirit.  And didn't Miss Moore make a fine talk on the Const- 
itution. It was fine, and I for one am proud of Miss Stella Moore.  Besides Jerry Jontry, she was the 
only person I ever knew who could handle Kenny Yarnelle.  But smart as she is Miss Moore made at 
least one mistake.  When I was in High School, she was determined to make a public speaker out of 
me, and her influence sure has caused you boys lots of anguish ever since, eh?  Jerry Jontry?  It was a 
good program and prompted one Kiwanian to suggest that we have a forum among our group on "Am- 
erica, where it's been, what its doing, and where it going to."  That would be interesting.  Any how, 
turn out next week and hear the program, and especially Pres. Alva's address on the state meeting in 
Indianapolis, which he will attend Sunday and Monday.  The Dooz are about all in, so our handsome 
treasurers reports.  That's good.   
     The boys are now feeding me the poetry, some not so good and some very good.  Here is a "Gripe" 
out of the South Pacific.  It is both interesting and informative.  I too thot that the breezes, the Palm 
trees, the beautiful dark complexioned girls, must contribute toward a virtual paradise, but it seems that 
"our Boys" have other ideas.  This came from Duke Bridegroom, fighting Japs, Mosquitos, Spiders, 
Lizards, Flies, etc. etc., way out yonder in the Solomon Area.   
                       "Somewhere in the Pacific"
They sing of them in the movies and they're praised by poets,
They say the South Sea Isles are a place of paradise,
But I am living on one and I'd like to have you know,
That my grand opinion of them really got a blow.

Somewhere on this island there's a man who's apt at prose,
And in his glowing verses, there's no mention of a rose,
So if you seek adventure, just read this little poem
And if you think it over, I'm sure you'll stay at home.

Somewhere in the Pacific where the sun is like a curse,
And each day is followed by another, only slightly worse,
Where the coral dust is thicker than the shifting desert sand,
The white man dreams and wishes for fairer and colder lands.
Somewhere in the Pacific where a girl is never seen,
Where the sky is never cloudy and the grass is always green,
Where the bats with nightly screaming rob a man of blessed sleep,
Where there isn't any whiskey and the beer is never cheap.

Somewhere in the Pacific, where the nights were made for love
Where the moon is like a searchlight and the southern cross above
Sparkles like a diamond in the balmy tropic night,
It's shameless waste of beauty where there's not a girl in sight.

Somewhere in the Pacific where the mail is always late,
And a Christmas Card in April is considered up to date,
Where we never have a payday, and never get a cent,
But we never miss the money cause we'd never get it spent.

Somewhere in the Pacific where the flies and buzzards play,
And a hundred fresh mosquitos replace each one you slay.
So take me back to Frisco, let me hear the mission bell,
For this God for Saken outpost is a substitute for Hell.

     Not so bad was it?  Pick out the good ones boys and send them along.  I only heard one story this 
week but couldn't see the point.  However, Bruce Merritt, Howard Plummer and Howard Halderman 
thot it was good so I pass it along.  One neighbor lady was talking to another.  She said "Oh my, did  
you hear about Mrs. Jones?  She is going to have twins."  "What?  You don't say, why I hear that only 
happens about every two hundred and twenty eight thousand, and two hundred and sevetyeith time"  
"Yes, I've heard that too, and what I can't figure is how she ever gets her work done."  News?  Got so 
much of it that I hardly know where to begin.  But here goes.  Coming down the Wabash Street hill a 
little while ago, (its now 11:30 pm) I stopped to look at the Honor Roll and make sure all you fellows 
names are on the list.  While standing there Susie Butterbaugh and Dorothy Small, came tripping down 
the hill, slid to a stop, and began hunting for Mac's name on the board.  It was there alright and Doro- 
thy was quite happy.  Nice girl Mac, and from her actions I think she thinks you're tops.  Susie woul- 
dn't tell who she was looking for, and I didn't press her, (for the name I mean).  Then up the hill comes 
a delicious blonde, you know the one Jim Hauk and she was looking for your name and found it.  Nice 
package there my boy, better keep her in mind for better days.  And then yesterday, I dropped into the 
picture gallery, and found the two Grandma Plummers, Mrs. Frank and Mrs. Howard, and each one 
had the offspring on their knees.  One baby belonged to Alf Plummer, and the other to Jerry Plummer? 
Both the papas are in the service.  Two nice looking kids.  Alf baby especially looked just like his gra-
ndpa Frank.  Two of our gang have been sick in the hospital.  Bill Owens, taking part in these tough 
army games had both legs broken.  Pvt. William D. Owens, Lockbourne Army Air Base Hospital Col- 
umbus Ohio is his address and boys let him have about a hundred cards and letters.  Tough luck Bill, 
keep the old chin up.  Remember, "Come what come may, time and the hour pass thru the roughest 
day."  And the other is Clo Dohse, A.A.F.  Station hospital Ward 6, Buckingham AAF, Fort Meyer Fl.  
Give old Clo a shower too, fellows.  You know how it is.  Clo's gal from Wabash here told me he was 
sick, and I had a letter this week from him too.  A great kid.  And you have a very local young lady 
here in Wabash.   By the way Dick Allen is now in New Guinea as well as Cpl E. Sarten.  Remember 
him?  Just added his name to the list.  Also Arnold (Toady) Clauve, the old manager of the Wabash 
Shamrock, who took the team to St. Louis, and they had to hitch hike back because the St. Louis team 
manager ran off with the expense money.  The last remnants go back on Wednesday evening after 
playing on Sunday.  His address W.O. Arnold E. Clauve Co A 76 C Bn, Fleet Postoffice San Fran-
       cisco, Ca.  Greetings from old Wabash, Toady.  Where are you?  Am now putting Ernie Hatmans name
       on the list and find that he is at Fort Bliss along with Francis Brady.  Francis "Hank" address is Pvt. 
       F.B. Hdqtrs Bttry, 820th AAA(A.W.) Bn Fort Bliss Tx.  Look him up Ernie.  And a funny thing hap-  
       pened over in New Caledonia.  A V mail just arrived form Chuck Glazier.  Says "I want you to know 
      where your Bullaton did some real good.  The other day the door busted open and in comes Floyd
       (Pretzel) Myers.  Pretzel had received a Bullaton with my name in it, and after a lot of trouble found 
       me.  Never so glad to see anybody in my life, and with him, he had a buddy from Indianapolis.  I told 
       the boy from I. That I too had a buddy from the same city.  I told him it was a fellow named Vaughn.  
       The guy let out a yell, as he lived next door back home and that was a reunion for them.  So your Bull- 
       aton really turned the trick for us.  Keep them coming."  Thanks a lot.  Things like that is what makes
       the Bullaton valuable to all the boys, as we have had numerous incidents like this.  A card here from 
       Bob Simons, in the Navy telling me that all the boys will be back on leave Sunday and will be in the 
       old class.  O.K., boys, we will be looking for you.  Say, and you should see what some of the H.S. gang 
       did to my muskmelon patch.  It was terrific.  They had a party alright but I wasn't there.  Tomorrow,
       the football team take a crack at Huntington over there.  Tied Elwood last week 14 all.  The team is 
       green but learning fast and anything can happen.  They sure  have plenty of fight.  Here's the lineup 
       end to end, left to right, Christle, Rockwell, Eltzroth, Christle, Fingerele, Shockey, Tyte, and the back-
       field Quarter, Butler, with marks, Parks and Lewis in the Back F.  Lots of smart subs too.  Weaver and 
       Wilson slightly injured.  Now, boys, I could go on and on, but I'm out of space again, besides the clock
        now reads 12:47 pm or am and I'm all in.  Don't forget to write not only me but your folks.  Tell you 
        about Bob Yarnelle next week.  Don't forget to plug for Wabash.  Homer T.  Kiwanis sends regards to
When I was just a little squirt-                                He goes to all the town's affairs,
Around about knee-high,                                        Gets up to make a speech,
My mother often used to ask                                  And while he's climbing to his feet
"Has the "letter man" been by?                              The folks all see him reach
(We always called him letter man                          Into his vest and coat and pants
Although I later heard                                            And bring forth squares of white,
That "Postman" or "Mail Carrier"                         And they know they'll hear the latest
Were titles more preferred.)                                   From the boys out in the fight.

Well, anyway, some months ago,                          He never misses any chance
The Letter Man came back,                                   To pass around the news,
And while he doesn't have a route                         On Sunday at the Christian Church
Or lug a great big pack                                           The people in the pews
He carries lots of letters                                          Get all the dope on Jim and Sam                                                                                                              
From his boys where'er they go,                            And George and Bob and Pete
And through him we all hear from you;                 And Duke and Mac and Buggs and Jack-
His name is Homer T.                                             From Keokuk to Crete.

He wouldn't want to be called old,                           And when the time for prayer comes round,          
(His age I do not know)                                            The heads are bowed so low-
But I hear he sold insurance                                      The preacher thinks they-re praying hard,
To the Indians long ago.                                            But, then he doesn't know                              
But he still has a lot of pep,                                        That most of them are reading through
He's very much alive-                                                The letters Homer brought,
(He sold the stone for Lincoln's grave                       (He passed them out a while before-      
In eighteen sixty-five                                                  We hope they don't get caught.)

But to get back to the letters,                                      He goes up to the old P.D.
It's too bad you can't see                                            And reads them to the bunch;
What happens when they hit this town                       He goes into the restaurants
Addressed to Homer T.                                               While people are at lunch.   
His face lights up-a great big smile                             There's a lot of so-called roast beef
Breaks o'er his homely pan;                                        That's gotten awfully cold
And then he reads and for all else                                While Homer, your old Letter Man,
He doesn't give a damn.                                              Your tidings did unfold.

If some guy who got drunk last night                           One summer night in city park,
Is waiting up in jail,                                                      A couple were a'kissing,
He won't be tried until our Mayor                               But he walked up, pulled out a note,
Has finished with his mail.                                           And said, "Now you kids listen"
If a man come for insurance                                         He sat down on the bench with them
While Homer's reading-say-                                        And read the latest dope,
He might as well go somewhere else                           And then he started somewhere else-
Or try another day.                                                       (They finished up, I hope.)

Yes, Homer loves those letters,                                    Now this may sound as if he shows
And if you fellows knew                                              Each word you've written down.
How much they really mean to him                             -That an confidential stuff
You'd write not one, but two,                                      Is spread all over town'
Above all else, those lines from you                            But, fellows, that is not the case,
Are what he most enjoys,                                             The personal things you say
And he is always happiest                                            Are kept in strictest confidence
When bragging of his boys.                                         And no put on display.

Well, when he reads them every one,                          Those letters help to sell the bonds,
-Marked every word you wrote,                                   At every drive they're read,
He puts them in his personal files-                               They help the scrap and tin can drives-
Vest, pants, and shirt and coat.                                     They help us keep ahead
He's a walking index system,                                       On everything you boys require,
Each pocket is a drawer-                                               ('Tis little we can do)
And in spite of growing volume,                                   Because the big jobs in this war
There's always room for more.                                     Are done by guys like you.

Then out he starts, this Letter Man                                So keep those letters coming in,
To make his daily round.                                               From East, north South and West,
It's then your letters hit the folks                                   Keep sending them to Homer T.
Back here in Wabash town.                                           And he will do the rest.
He reads them to Kiwanians                                          He's the workingest press agent
On Tuesday when they meet;                                        You fellows ever had,
He reads them to the citizens                                         He thinks and talks about you all
He stops on every street.                                                As if he were your dad/

He takes them to the City Hall                                       And one thing more, don't overlook
And to the boys there, shows,                                         The certain fact that he
What Bill or Joe or Charlie wrote                                   Is assisted to the limit
About their joys and woes.                                             By Mrs. Homer T.
I hope the fire bell never rings,                                       Those Bullatons that mean so much,
For, under Homer's spell,                                               Each week she helps to do,
The gang would keep on listening                                  Sometimes, to get them out on time
While Wabash burned to hell.                                         She works the whole night through.
                                    And while we're giving you the dope,
                                    We also want to state,
                                     The boys in the Kiwanis Club
                                     Are glad to pay the freight.
                                     Each one in that big, splendid group
                                     Would like to say to you-
                                     That every week, the Bullaton
                                     Will keep on coming through.
                                      The biggest kick they really get
                                      From mailing you that sheet,
                                      Is when, by it's late news, it helps
                                      Two boys from Wabash meet.
                                      Like Doc LaSalle in Sicily,
                                      Who read the Bulla-ton
                                      And found out he was very close
                                      To Perry Cross' son.

                                      This started out to be a line,
                                      And grew to be a book.
                                      (Nobody knows we're writing this-
                                      We may give them a look)
                                       The purpose of this little rhyme
                                       Is just to yell – HELLO,
                                       And ask that you keep writing to
                                       Your old pal, Homer Show.

                                        Yes, homer is our "Letter Man"-
                                        Our link with all you boys,
                                        And as I said, it is the thing
                                        That Homer most enjoys.
                                        And all you guys should realize,
                                        (And here this speech I'll end)
                                        That in that fellow you all have
                                        A loyal, rootin' friend.
(Put together by an organization that appreciates the swell job that Homer Showalter is doing.  The 
same organization that wants every one of you to come back to Wabash when this mess is over-The 
Wabash Chamber of Commerce--- by Bud Mahaney, Exec. Vice Pres. & Secr'y
OCTOBER 12, 1943
     Yeah, fellow Kiwanians, my ears are red.  No, not literally, but figuratively, as you fellows read this 
deluge from the pen of Bud Mahaney. It happened this way.  A couple months ago Bud and myself to- 
ok a trip to Terre Haute on Flood Control, and sat in a meeting with all the Highway Commission, gov- 
ernment engineers in and out of uniform, three congressmen, and a lot of big shots, and we heard a lot 
of oratory.  I sat there looking as smart as possible considering my natural disadvantages, and Bud took 
notes for an hour or so, at least I thot they were notes until after while he handed me a couple sheets of 
paper covered with verse, and I mean he had covered the flood situation from the time of old Chief Ch- 
arley down to the present and it was so hot that I gave it to the chairman of the meeting, and it gave me 
the idea that he do something sometime for me to sent out with the Bullaton that would help sell the 
town of Wabash to the boys etc. etc., and yesterday he brings over enough of the attached poem to mail 
to the boys all over the world and the Kiwanis Club too.  Well I read it thru, and while I knew it was 
O.K. with the boys, and would give them many a laugh, yet I was worried about you older boys and 
what you would think.  But, Bud, did so thoroughly and completely cover the ground in this "dogge- 
rel," that I am mailing it to Kiwanis too, and anybody who don't like it can throw it in the wastebasket.  
If I told you I wasn't flattered, I would be a liar. And I want to thank Bud for his good intentions and 
the plug he puts in this "poem" for the "Letterman," for the Kiwanis Club, and the city itself.  I know 
the boys are going to like this, and anything else, he may want to write for us to pass out to the "my 
     The attendance was back up again lat Tuesday to hear Mr. Wishard of Indianapolis talk on fire pre- 
vention.  He knew his stuff and made a good talk.  Bill Delaplane has the program next week, and tells 
me that he has the head of the O.P.A. coming up from Indianapolis to talk to us.  Let's give him a good 
turn out.  Milo M. says he would like to see a Forum put on before the club on "Where we used, to be, 
where we are now, and where we are going" in America.  Three on a side.  Would make a good meet-
ing.  Owen J. Neighbors says we have seventeen active past presidents in our club.  That beats Elwood.  
Now lets have a picture taken, and send it in to the Hoosier Kiwanian.  Milo also complains that I am 
making a Republican propaganda sheet out of the Bullaton.  Well, I'm not but when I hear these good 
stories about the Democrats, I enjoy them and yearn to repeat them.  Like this one for instance.
     A committee of admirers of the President were trying to decide where to place a statue of Mr. 
Roosevelt in the capitol.
     They decided it would not do to place it next to Washington-because Washington never told a lie.
     They decided it would not do to place it next to Lincoln-because Lincoln was known as "Honest 
     The committee was very much in a quandary-but, after careful consideration they decided to place 
Roosevelt's statue next to Columbus-BECAUSE-
     Columbus did not know where the Hell he was going-
     Did not know where he was when he got there-
     Did not know where he had been when he got back-
     Now can anyone say the above is Republican propaganda?
     "No," says the Boss to the new stenographer, "I'm afraid you won't do."  "Oh, is that so?  Replies 
Cutie, right back at him.  "Did I say I wouldn't?"
     Quotation from an old history of Tudor England just discovered:  "Some of the ladies of the court 
liked to curl up with a good book while others preferred individual pages."
     We know a guy whose wife really appreciates the fur coat he gave her Christmas.  He knows, be- 
cause the other night when he came home unexpectedly he found she had a man in the closet to guard 
it.  Well fellows around the world, this has been another busy week.  Somehow, someway, Claude Mi- 
nnear, the Bond Chairman, and his workers put the Wabash County Quota over the top by better than 
$240.00, and the quota, mind you, was $1,240,000.00.  Think of it.  I didn't know there was that much 
money in the State of Indiana.  So, Harry Forbes, down in Hondo, Texas, you have some- thing else to 
feel proud of in the old home county.  By the way, Harry, you undoubtedly should be a commentator, 
judging from the thorough, comprehensive letters you write.  You just don't leave any- thing out, and 
most of what you say, I endorse heartily.  Old Harry even included a one dollar bill in his letter with 
these remarks:- "Homer, see if you can drop the small contribution in the box for Community Service 
You don't need to say where it came from but it may help to keep some kid out of mischief for one 
evening.  I may not be around much to see what is being done, but it makes you feel kind of good to 
know that you had a little bit to do with it."  I will see that Community Service gets it, and in the name 
of Community Service I want to thank you, Harry Forbes.  A dollar is a dollar and for a young man 
contemplating matrimony, that's a sacrifice.  Last week, I told you Bob Hastings mailed a dollar for 
stamps well Bob, we don't take any stamp money, the Kiwanis Club "pays the freight," and we are 
putting the dollar in Community Service too.  Thanks Fellows, I want you all to know some- thing.  
Tuesday night I sat in a meeting of manufacturers, merchants, professional men on a postwar planning 
meeting, and it was a dandy.  Among others, I heard Howard Dodge, the local head of General Tire 
and Rubber say, "We will need 600 more employees in our program after the war than we are empl- 
oying at the present time.  And every man who has gone into the service from out plant has his job 
waiting for him when he gets back, I am personally seeing to that."  He meant every word of it, and 
Fred Collinge of the Diehl Machine Company says, "that goes for our plant too."  Bud Mahaney yells 
over at me, "Homer, put that in your Bullaton" and boys here it is.  Boys, this town is going places.  
We have more aggressive leadership in this city than we ever had in my history.  You can all come 
back to Wabash, and when we get the new housing program worked out, you can bring plenty of other 
ambitious, progressive fellows with you. Enough of this.  Well, another baby epidemic.  Owen J. Neig- 
hbors Junior, living in Indianapolis has a new boy, Parker Kulday married Shirley Sampson, has a new 
boy, and Arnold (Toady) Clauve that I told you about last week has a girl.  What a talker that gal will 
be.  And, finally, I can definitely that Bob Harveys boy has arrived.  Remember I got three months ah- 
ead of time and announce that 3 months ago.  Every things works out in time.  And Bob Tueksbarry is 
married but I didn't learn who.  Some young lady, I suppose.  Jim Hauk blew into town this afternoon 
looking like a million and all set for a glorious 28 days.  Oh, boy.  Also met Frederick Rout going out 
west Stitt St. heading back for Salt lake City.  Don't know whether he goes back to Greenland or not 
but hopes not.  Dick Martin got in Sunday and was in S.S.  Looks like "overseas" for him.  And Stiffy 
Sumpter just wrote me from San Diego that he is all set for "overseas."  He found Junior Vrooman thru 
the Bullaton, and Junior told him that Bill Dunfee was shipped out last week.  Stuffy, here is Jim McV- 
ickers address.  James McVicker, AS Co 1089 USNTS Great Lakes Ill.  Mac may not be there long but 
his mail will follow him.  Don't fail to write each other boys.  Misery loves company, and besides,  al-
ways remember the friends you make now will stick by you as long as you live.  Build your fiendships 
and your friendships will build you.  And you don't have to drink all the likker in sight to be a good 
fellow either.  Luck to you Stuffy.  Don't forget to write and this old Bullaton will follow you where- 
ever you go, to H--- and back, if necessary.  Lew Kretsmeier, your letter was so good that the P.D. wa- 
nted it.  They won't print all of it their personal part) but we do thoroughly appreciate that you spent 
the happiest days of your life in Wabash and when the scrap is over, that you want to come back to 
your loyal friends in Wabash.  We will have a spot for you, and I will personally save a good girl for 
you too.  There are a lot of them right here, although I know one you missed that you should have pic- 
ked off.  Lew ran into Jerry McGinnis in London alone on the street.  They almost knocked a couple of 
light posts down in their excitement.  Boys, get this.  Kretzmeir, J. McGinnis, Woody Drook, Harold 
Burkholder and young Pete or rather Paul Martin all have the APO 635.  Call on Red Cross and they 
will get you together.  Young Martin is connected with the 30th Depot Repair Sqdrn.  His number 150- 
85061.  Another swell letter.  Am running out of space already.  Dwaine Collinge, from Chuck Glazier 
over in India, jot down this name.  Capt Hurd of Chicago, flying trans port India to China.  Dwaine, 
here is address of Pvt Bob Sheppard, in Indiana #15084309 955 Signal Radio Intelligence Det. A.P.P. 
629 P.M. New York City.  Must quit now, boys.  Write and keep in touch with the town and your 
OCTOBER 14, 1943
     What.  Not another week rolled around already.  Boys, I'm telling you I don't know where the time 
is going to.  Too fast for this old boy, I guess.  We just don't get a chance to bowl anymore at all.  Not 
that it makes so much difference anyway, as we can't bowl without bowling alleys, and right now it 
looks like we are going to be shy one Bowling Alley Proprietor, by the name of Harold Bowman.  No 
kiddin he got his notice to get his affairs in shape and be ready sometime in early November.  Quit laf- 
fing.  It's no laffing matter.  It's a fact.  And a wife and two children, too.  Myself, I am speechless.  
The only laffable thing about it is that a year ago, Harold was run down, and losing sleep and weight, 
so he had a checkup over at Bluffton, and he had a lot of things the matter with him.  Couldn't pass any 
kind o f a physical examination.  Last week, he went back and the same doctor went over him from 
stem to stern, and then told him, "Harold, you were never in better shape in your life.  Everything has 
cleared up just fine."  So you see the predicament he is in and the shape the town is going to be in after 
while without a Bowling Alley.  Harold may have the last laugh, as I heard today in Indianapolis, that 
they are going to draft all the Mayors of the country, and send them over to run the captured cities in 
Italy, Poland, German, etc.  don't see how I could run one of those towns, when I can't even run my 
own.  Might of known I would get mixed up in something like this.  I'll bet by the next election, all the 
Republicans will be drafted and out of the country.  Now, last weeks meeting was O.K.  We all enjoy- 
ed it immensely.  One of the most convincing talkers in months.  BUT, a fellow Kiwanian questioned 
one statement.  That one ship carried 760 stank cars of Fuel Oil.  Tank cars of 8,000 gallons capacity.  
6 pounds to a gallon.  I'm not good at figures, but 18,240 tons sounds like a lot of tons.  Anyway, good 
speech, right or wrong.  And next week the whole gang will go down and see the Bunker Hill Air 
Base.  Be at hotel for lunch at twelve sharp.  The attendance is swell, the dues are all paid but two, the 
singing is good, and we have a fine club, except were lazy.  Let's dig up about four new members.  
     One of the boys was home last week and was telling about being stationed at a small army camp in 
Georgia, in a typical backwoods territory.  The local boys had been gone to War for a long time, and 
then they shipped down a big consignment of boys from Indiana, Ill. And Ohio.  The gals were there 
alright, those kind of gals they raise in Georgia that they write songs about.  And as you might expect, 
one of the local fathers entered a complaint with the C.O.  It seems that his daughter had left the night 
before, right after supper without doing any of the chores around the place.  A couple hours later she 
was seen coming out of the woods, wearing and overseas cap, and singing Yankee Doodle at the top of 
her voice.  They don't approve of any thing Yankee down in Georgia.  The C.O. was all for handling 
the matter delicately and making an investigation quietly, but he assigned the job to a big red headed 
Captain and the captain decided the proper approach would be to come right out and ask the men about 
it the next morning---take them by surprise, sorta.  So right after reveille he lined them all up and said:  
"The man who sneaked out of the barracks last night to meet a girl in the woods north of the camp, 
step forward ten paces."  It took a moment for the unusual command to sink in and then: "COMPANY 
HALT" he shouted.
      Well, boys, the old man is pretty tired tonight.  Rode down to Indianapolis yesterday noon with 
Herald Talbert.  He was selling one car and buying two at a car auction.  I was staying all night and 
coming back this evening, so Herald asked me to drive a car back.  Of course, I agreed.  Well, late this 
P.M., I goes over to the Circle Inn and presented the ticket Bottle gave me, and to my amazement, they 
drove out a 37 Ford Tudor, a model 60.  I got in and started out, but I soon found the right front low, so 
I rounded the circle and hunted some air.  Was it a lollapulizer?  It was in splendid shape, except- the 
motor sounded like an old washing machine, the clutch jumped and slipped, it was missing most the 
time on one—out of four, one wheel slid when I applied the brakes, the speedometer wasn't working, 
and I couldn't tell how fast I was going.  It took me an hour and a half to get to Noblesville and the oil 
run low, and it heated up.  After being up about all night last night, I was pretty disgusted, so I got in 
the car and just pushed the accelerator down to the floor and run along the full 35 miles per on into 
Wabash, just in time to get out to the High School and make the kids a Pep (?) talk at the big Pep don't 
look to bright, I believe they will finally come out ahead.  I wish I could tell you they bat Plymouth last 
week but I can't George Parks got sick and didn't play, and they were disorganized.  But it was the 
same grand bunch of kids, pushing, shoving, laughing, same old Pepper Uppers, and you would have 
all like to have seen the fire tonight.  These kids miss you fellows too tremendously.  I noticed that 
when I mention you, and tell them what you say, that you could hear a pin drop, it is so quiet.  The 
band is as good as ever, and a swell looking little bunch of Drum Majors and Yell leaders.  Here's 
hoping they beat Peru tomorrow night.  Now fellows, I have some bad news.  It must come to you 
along with the good.  Dwaine Collinge is reported missing in action somewhere over India or Burma.  I 
have lots of confidence in his walking out of those jungles some of these days.  He was flying his 
Liberator somewhere over the territory and didn't get back.  We are hoping and praying for him, and 
all of you do the same.  Dwaine Collinge is one of the best boys we ever turned out of Wabash.  These 
are terrible times.  No one knows it like you boys.  While this is a strain on the people at home, you are 
the ones who are really taking the punishment.  Hang on gang, stay right in there and keep pitching, 
and after while it will seem like a bad dream.  And fellows, thanks a million for the fine things you tell 
me about the Bullaton.  Your letters are grand "Pretzel" Myers, Richard Allen, as near as I can figure is 
about 700 miles from you.  His address, Pvt. R.E. Allen 35570881 Co A 1881 Eng AV %P.M San Fran 
Ca. APO 929.  Boy, I hope you meet him some day.  Dick here is Pretzels address Floyd K Myers Fl/c 
Base Unit 4 P Fleet P.O. San Fran Ca.  Wish I had the space to tell you all the fine things Pretzel says.  
The girls will be here when you get back, don't worry.  Pretz is attending a fire school.  How about the 
fire dept. when you get back?  And how about a couple of you Judo experts in the Marines for the 
Police D.?  No kiddin.  Lt. Kedrick H. Brady 411th Ftr Sqdrn 373 Ftr Gp Army Air Base Blackstone 
Va.  Ked wants to hear from all of you as he goes overseas very soon.  Jack Mathers is rapidly getting 
his wings.  Good letter from Eldon Stoops, Pvt 35099582 %P.M. San Fran APO 7112.  Keep letters 
coming.  Boys, want you all to write Pvt Robt R. Sheppard 15084309 955th Sig Radio Int. Det. P.M. 
New York City APO 629.  He's been sick in a hospital in India.  Says he got 3 Bullatons at one time 
and just about put him back on his feet.  Bob is happy for Warnie Sunday and E.L. says Fred Sunday, 
according to the Theatre paper has been decorated twice, and is giving Wabash a reputation. I don't 
doubt it.  Our boys all are.  Today in Indianapolis, I picked up the Star and there was the acc't of the 
Rabaul affair in headlines.  Half way down the column in a box was a black face caption regarding 
some pilot from Richmond, Ind. and Charles R.S. as the two Indiana pilots taking part in the big raid.  
The Star delivered to Wabash didn't have the insert, but Tom Showalter in C'ville when the dispatch 
came in after midnight over the AP, immediately mailed the copy to me and it came in this evening.  I 
can't print it here, but Charles was the left wing pilot of Col Rogers, of the Jolly Rogers group, which 
ruined Raboul.  Yes, boys, you're making history.  Wish I had more space.  Nice letter from Bob Clark 
Pvt (35099590) Co A 63rd BN 13th Regt. Camp Fannin, Tx.  Remember Ben Blood well, its Major B.  
D. Blood HQ 8th Air Force A.P.O. 633% PM New York.  What a horse doctor is doing in the Air Force 
I don't know but he is.  Luck Ben.  Say, gang, I wasn't far wrong on Harry Forbes.  He is going to be 
married.  Ain't that something.  Well, Harry is O.K. boys, and here luck to you.  Another baby coming 
but can't tell you yet, but you will be surprised.  You married men better let me know early enough and 
then I won't get off a head of time.  My readers really want the news.  Nother thing, I wish all you fel- 
lows who would like to come back to Wabash after the war and buy a home, etc. would write Bub 
Mahaney, (the poet by the way) and tell him.  We are preparing a survey now on number of houses 
needed, etc.  I'm serious.  Bud wants to know.  We are going to do our best to make this town your 
future homes.  Why should Wabash boys go elsewhere for greater opportunity?  I hope that gang in 
England all get together.  The Bullaton has them hunting each other all over London, and it's a big 
town.  Pete Martin has been moved to Ireland now.  Here a letter from Robt Sunday PO Box 10000 
Marine Barracks Quantico Va.  Somebody asked about you awhile back.  Here's a letter from Hank 
Brady begging me to put his brother Bob on the mailing list.  O.K. Hank, I'll do it.  Glad your Buddy 
likes the Bull we sling, but I can't add names of boys other than those from Wabash. S/Sgt Robt E. 
Brady Det 3868 S.C.V. Ashburn Gen Hospital McKinney, Tx.   Hi Bob, write,  Freddie Hoeffer, Cecil 
Martin, Jim Houk.  Bob Baer having the times of their lives at home.  Carry sticks around to protect 
themselves from war widows.  Now, I got to stop, but no ways near done.  Write Homer T. 
OCTOBER 26, 1943
     Well, there comes the fire truck back from a fire.  They went to the south side wide open a half hour 
ago so it must have been some fire.  It is now just 10:35 and if I don't tear into this Bullaton, we will 
have an early breakfast.  But, I have found out that you can't write a letter of a Bullaton if you are stop- 
ped every ten minutes, and I know I am not going to b bothered at this time of night.  Harold Bowman 
tells me that you fellows who made the trip to the Peru Air Base after the luncheon Tuesday really got 
an eyeful.  I have been there a couple times, and I know when finished, (if ever), it will be one of the 
finest in the country.  If it is ever abandoned, Bunker Hill High School is going to have just six basket- 
ball floors, numerous ball diamonds, and a swimming pool a little smaller than Lukens Lake.  How-  
ever, it surely represents to big an investment to ever junk it, or let rot down like happened after the 
last war.  Say, do you read the Kiwanis magazine?  It may not be as interesting as the Bullaton, but it 
sure gives a fellow an idea of what Kiwanis is really doing in this War effort.  Kiwanis brings fellows 
so close together thru its good fellowship that a group like ours can tackle any problem and handle it if 
they want to.  I know our group will back the Chamber of Commerce in its effort further develop and 
push Wabash along after the War.  You know we will need an airport, and your help is welcome.  Join 
the new association that is just being formed.
     The new Roll of Honor is about completed.  Better than two thousand names are now on the board 
and there are still more that will be placed there.  Last night the local Lions Club members were still 
there painting it at seven o'clock in the evening.  We are very proud of it and again congratulate the 
hustling Lions Club for this contribution.
     Our attendance is swell.  Keep right on coming fellows and let's finish the year with close to a 90% 
attendance record for the year.  Next week there will be another good program, and let's all turn out 
and stay thru the program.
     Corny Joes, eh?  One kid says, "The jokes are corny but they go over big."  All right, boys, but they 
go over big with the Kiwanis boys back home and some of the Kiwanis boys mammas, too.  Here is 
one that Kenny Yarnelle handed me today that is good.  It seems that Buck Smith had just turned 
eighteen last month and right away he makes up his mind to join the marines.  He's a swell guy-big 
and strong-but he has terribly weak eyes-has had ever since he was a small kid.  He wears those big 
thick glasses.  So when he shows up at the recruiting office the sergeant spots him right off, and takes a 
look at him, and says, "No chance for you, buddy-not with those glasses."  But Buck had been expec- 
ing something like this and was prepared for it.  He had actually memorized the eye chart, and of cou- 
rse read every line "Well, you sure fooled me," said the sergeant after the preliminary examination.   
Then in a flash of inspiration, before he gave back the glasses, he asked, "Say, whose picture is that on 
the wall over there?"  Buck looked in the direction pointed, and made out a familiar outline.  "George 
Washington," he answered.  "And whose picture is that on the other wall?"  Buck could hardly make 
out the other wall much less the picture hanging there.  But he used his head and guesses.  "Abraham 
Lincoln," he answered with much hesitation.  And then just to show off Buck added, "Yea, and I can 
even see that one eyed cat coming in the door there."  "Hell, young fellow, that settles it for you," says 
the sergeant, "That ain't no one eyed cat.  And besides he ain't coming in, he's going out." 
     I hope that one passes my censors.  If it don't blame J.K.Y. and not me.  He pays his dues (some- 
times) and has a right to say what goes in this paper.  And too, I know the boys from my old S.S. Class 
will understand we have a lot of Methodists, Presbyterians, and Catholics on the mailing list, and those 
are the only kind of stories they understand, especially Presbyterians.  Anyway, fellows this has been a 
fast week around Wabash.  All the industries are working night and day.  Seventeen industries on war 
work right now, and if this is the way it is all over this country, in time both the Germans and the Japs 
will absolutely snowed under by this high speed production.  It is tremendous. And the country is full 
of cattle, hogs and chickens by the million.  I just can't imagine any more white leghorns than you see 
now on these farms.  Scarce?  You should see them.  Jim Hauk home on furlough was telling the Kiw- 
anis Club how times had changed in Wabash.  Said he and Freddie Hoefer had sore necks from turning 
around so much to see who had whistled at him.  Said he used to the whistling, now it's the girls.  I 
thot he was exaggerating until last night, when I came across the street at ten o'clock and someone 
whistled.  There were about ten or twelve girls or women on the corner waiting for the South Side bus.  
I made a big detour and asked, "Is it safe to pass this crowd alone so late at night?  Nobody said any- 
thing except a half dozen or so let out a chorus of "Woo-o-o-f."  I didn't stop and took off over the hill.  
Thot of J. Hauk.  Don't worry about these girls, fellows, they are in good hands back here.  Yes, got 
lots of news.  Three of the boys you all remember, Dick Martin, Farrar Aubertine and Bob Alger are on 
their way across now.   Here is Farrar's address F.M. Aubertine 35359816 81st C.K.L. Bn % P.M. New 
York City APO 4913.  Don't have an idea where he is but will find out in time.  Write him, some of 
you guys.  One of our WAVES, Ruth Allen, slipped home here over the weekend and married some 
Army officer.  Luck to the bride and groom.  No doubt you will need it.  This week Morris Hipskind 
rolled in looking like a million, and who showed up but Don Cramer, on a 7 day leave, and 5 of them 
spent traveling.  Everybody says they don't appreciate the old home town until they get away and can't 
get back when they want too.  Day before yesterday Warren Howell came into the police station.  His 
address T T/4 Warren E. Howell, Troop A 27th Cav. Rec. Sqdrn % P.M. New Orleans La APO 827.  
Warren looks fine and say not only he but all the boys like the old Bullaton.  I see here that both Bill 
Jones and Dick Tueksberry are both at Iowa City in some phase of the Air Corps.  Had a swell letter 
from Bill Jones says he guessed he made the second or B team out there at the old Quarterback posish.  
Anyway he got to make a trip.  I'm not worrying about Bill Jones.  He is rugged and tough and will 
make a great flyer.  Haven't heard from Tueky lately, but there are two boys together.  And, right here 
on my desk, I have an enlargement of a picture send from New Caledonia of Jim Pitts, Stew Small- 
wood, Pretzel Myers and Chuck Glazier together.  Pretzel's mother brot it in.  I just learned that Ever- 
ett Stoops is on the same island.  For Gods sake, boy, hunt him up over there.  And there is another one 
over there too but I can't think who just now.  Letters, boys, you should see the letters.  Bill J. asks 
about my bowling.  I have little to say, except that the alleys are too slick this year for me to get in my 
best form.  Nice letter from A/S William T. Barrett 35099578 3154 CTD 43-C-13 Flight 1 Tempe 
Arizona.  Bill spends most his letter telling about the good food.  Takes that after his elongated father, 
and then he says there are 330 fellows and 415 girls, but he too has one back home here he is interested 
in.  Say, I don't want to oversell old Wabash.  When you get back, the old town will still be about like 
it was when you left.  Maybe a few fronts painted, BUT, WABASH is looking up, and going places. 
Yes, the Bullaton is circling the globe, and glad you enjoy it so much.  Another epidemic of baby's.  
Here that secret I had last week, Johnny Andersons have new baby boy.  Wife was a Logansport girl.  
Congrats Johnny.  John is flying the B25 over Italy.  Send him some cards boys, but don't expect any 
cigars back.  His address Lt John Anderson 0-735493 Hdqr Sqdrn 27th Wing %P.M. New York APO 
520.  And Jim Drill's have a baby boy born Tuesday.  Jim is in the navy but a letter addressed to him 
here will reach him, and the other one is a baby to Mr. And Mrs. Paul Coomler.  Population is increa- 
sing rapidly, and it's O.K. by ma.  Now, I have a list of six or eight who are going to have babies but I 
better wait a while on them.  A /C  John F. Murphy Class 44E Sqdrn G Group 3 Flt 2 AAF PPS Max- 
well Field Alabama.  John says that Lt. Phil Kammerer, Manchester College is an instructor at same 
place.  We'll keep your name on list John, don't worry.  Yes, Butch Howard is a swell fellow and will 
give you the shirt off his back, but he does exagerate when he's talking to me.  Got my first letter from 
Gene Stone, who is being shipped out.  Best of luck Jr. 0-46?8?7 Co B 16th Sig Opn Bn % P.M. San 
Francisco APO 4741.  Keep his APO number fellows and let him hear from you.  And here are a half 
dozen more letters including a whale of a letter I just received from my own kid Charley, and he des- 
cribed one of the missions he was on.  I wish there was space to print it all here but it is impossible.  
Give all your crew my best regards.  They must be a wonderful team.  Take good care of them.  Reme-  
mber that the friends you make now will be your friend for life.  I want all you fellow to keep talking 
up the old town here and I want you to write your folks, and your girls, and leave the hard liquor and 
wild women alone.  They're dynamite.  Wabash H. beat Peru and I didn't have space to tell you about 
it, but the boys did a swell job.  Now, I got to quit, but don't forget to write.  Homer T. 
NOVEMBER 2, 1943
     It's probably a good thing that Halloween comes just once a year.  About an hour ago, yes an hour 
ago, I came into the office here to get out the first page of the Bullaton.  Tomorrow night (Thursday) is 
when we usually get it out, but I did hate to miss the Community Service Halloween party, so I figured 
I'd get out the first page tonight and the last page after the party on the street tomorrow night.  Well, I 
just got set down here good when the police car pulled up in front and Patrolman Lavengood asked to 
go along over to the South Side, that they had three gals come in from over there all at once that a 
crowd of girls were soaping windows, throwing corn, and two big gangs of boys were carrying off 
porch swings, and upsetting these little "edifaces' that adorn the rear ends of some yards even in sani- 
tary Wabash.  So I hopped in and went along to get a first hand glimpse of Wabash delinquency.  And 
we did see a few chairs out on the sidewalks, and almost ran over one back house which had found its 
way down a back alley and fell over on its side, but we never saw a kind.  Not one.  They had disap- 
peared like magic.  Dudley says, "Now what do you think of that.  Not a kid in sight."  "That's funny" 
we thot but we never saw a boy or a girl.  So we starts back to the north side, and the desk man called 
on the police radio to go to 765 W. Main, "Vandalism" so we came up thru town and went down Main 
without seeing anybody.  Then we swung over onto Hill Street and at the Womans Club saw a kid ju- 
mp behind a car.  Big party on and lots of cars.  Then we saw about five or six boys, good big boys, on 
the other side of one car applying the soap.  Dud stopped the car and hopped out of the car.  The boys 
went around that Womans Club on the east side like a flock of race horses.  Dud hopped in and we 
drove around the Clubhouse, and as we got back behind, we turned on the spotlight, and were they run- 
ning.  Heading northeast.  One boy had on an orange jacket with black sleeves and stood out like a sore 
thumb in that bright light.  We kept the light on them and drove right on back down across the east 
road, and by that time the boys were going over the fence and thru the weeds east along the railroads.  
It's been many a day since I saw anything any funnier.  Dud says, "They're heading for the Snack 
Shop," so we drove over there and I guess we guessed wrong because the only boy in there was Jim 
Butterbaugh and a dozen kids swore he had been there all evening, but he must have been dancing or 
something as he was all out of breath.  One big fellow, all legs, looked like he got his pants fast on the 
fence and he looked awfully familiar.  And that orange jacket, well, any way we gave it up when no- 
body else appeared at the Snack Shop, and came back to the station.  But it sure was funny.  And here I 
am again.
     Don't forget when you come Tuesday, we are going to have a picture of the club taken, and we 
want a hundred percent attendance.  This is the first picture we have had since I joined the club in 
1922, and we just must have everybody.  Ollie Showalter will take the picture and you know it must be 
a good one and most of you know what we expect to do with it.  This means EVERYONE of you un- 
less you're on your death bed.  The attendance last week was fine, and it had been.  This is one of the 
finest clubs in Indiana, and the spirit and good fellowship has never been finer than now.
     Yes, I'll agree that the 'one eyed cat story" was a knockout and will be told and retold ten thousand 
times all over the world as a result of the increasing circulation of the Keewanus Bullaton, but we can't 
run too many of those crude stories.  So I am going to print here a poem that I received thru the mail  
today from a really good friend of lots of you boys, Billy Rettig Osthimer.  Of course, this little poem 
doesn't sound EXACTLY like Longfellow or Jim Riley, but it is good and Billy is trying to help lig- 
hten your load a little, and we thank you for it, Billy, and the kind things you say about the Bullaton.  
Here 'tis.  
        Its Fall in Indiana, the summers on the wane
        The golden rod is yellow, the sumac blooms again.
        The Milkweed pod has burst and flown
        Like feathers in a draft
        It settles down on thistles like swans upon a raft.

       The air is soft and hazy, the night a cool moist kiss.
       The leaves, so red and yellow, Hang low so's not to miss
       The whisper of the grasses, as to their sleep they go
       And fence posts groan with added weight
       As the bittersweet starts to show.

       Wild astor and red tarmac as showing everywhere
       The spicy smell of burning leaves
       Hangs low in the evening air
       The country fields are ready, the pickles are in the brine,
       The pumpkins yellow tummy is peeping thru the vines.

      The arbor vine is heavy with purple dew drops hung
      The evening swallow flies for home His plaintive song is sung

      The Hickory and the Walnut tree, their furry hull will show,
      And morning find us ready, "Ahunting we will go."
      The smell of hulls, the brownish stain, then on the roof they go
      To dry and to ripen in the sun before the winters snow.

      You can search the wide world over
      But no matter where you roam
      "When it's Fall in Indiana," then
      Our hearts are all at home.  Signed Billy Rettig Osthimer.
Swell, Billy, the boys will be glad to hear from you., and know you will be glad to hear from any of 
them.  Now, I have another poem here that I just received today from Satch Buehler from down Camp 
Crowder way, that will wait till next week.  Different kind of poem, and maybe it won't pass the cen- 
sors.  (Thursday Night)  Just came from the big C.S. Halloween party, and it was the usual riot of kids 
with every kind of a false face.  The stage was in front of the ford Garage, and kids were throwing corn 
and beans, Bud Mahaney at the microphone, and Cecil worked all day to get the stage fixed up and 
now he is tearing it down again.  Just to entertain Wabash folks.  But; it is worth it.  Very little delinq- 
uency in Wabash.  Just a few High School boys on the football squad, and they better not be delinquent 
tomorrow night when they play Peru a return game.  They went to town against Peru two weeks ago 
and gave them a surprise.  This will be tougher tomorrow night.  Better go along, I guess, and see they 
all get back.  Letters?  Yes, from 2 to 5 every day, and from so many different fellows.  Sure I read 
them to the K Club, and they are making us a better club.  Don't think these men back home don't rea- 
lize what you are doing for us.  Yea, that poem that Bud Mahaney wrote will bring him fame yet.  A 
large number wrote him, and about every letter I get tells me what happened to it in their camp.  Will-  
ard Price says that it has passed thru seven barracks down in Texas where he is, and if they don't wear 
it clear out, he will send the remains home to his mother.  Boys, I'm putting Dutch Struck on the mail- 
ing list.  His address next week.  Got too much news tonight.  Doc LaSalle just been promoted to a 
major.  Congrats.  By the way, Doc, I have a new W. boy for yo0u to look up.  Richard Spiece Co B 
528th QM Bn Ser) %P.M. New York City 758.  Dudley Lavengoods brother.  Bob Neighbors, you have 
same number as Pvt. Donald Helm 98thService Sqdrn, 83 Serv. Gp % P.M.N.Y. APO 34.  Good fel- 
low.  Get together.  Jim Pitts, Shew Smallwood, two more Wabash boys over there with you.  Eldon 
Stoops 17 Weath. Sqdrn % P.M. APO 502 San Fransisco and Lt. Charles Long 69th Bom Sqdrn % 
P.M. San Fran APO 502.  Keep your eyes peeled.  Dorothy home last weekend, looking like a million.  
Gone back again leaving trail broken hearts.  Hey, here Dutch's address.  Raymond F. Struck, C-S.P. 
Unit G CPO-1 Sampson N.Y.  Now, you older boys, who took all his gaff.  Now, u can write him and 
tell him off.  Bet he would love to hear from u.  Swell letter from Lt. Max S. Brunn Co K 8th Bn 2nd 
Trng Regt Camp Reynolds Greenville, Pa.  Max says Bullaton getting better every issue.  Boy, sure 
hope all you guys come back to Wabash after War.  We're doing out best to arrange things.  V mail 
from Woody Drook.  Too dim, Woody, to read.  Please write me again.  Use a pen.  Dandy letter from 
A/S Don Baer Sqd A Sec 9 63rd CTD (AC) Univ. Tennessee, Knoxville.  Studying to be a bombadier.  
Young Butch Howard has just left for Navy.  Address later soon as I get it.  A cute little letter from 1st 
Sgt Clara Belle Davis WAC Det. B Wellington Hotel Daytona Beach Fla.  Any you boys want to strike 
up a correspondence.  Says all the WAC's read the Bullaton.  Putting Wabash on the map.  Girls even 
like stories.  That one eyed cat story still worries me.  Letter here from Tom Hanley Hdqrs Co T.D.  
RTC North Camp Hood Tx.    Texas must be a terrible state.  Glad you'r coming back to W.  No news 
yet from Dwaine Collinge, Bill Barker or Ward Vandegrift but let's keep pulling for them.  Bill Owens 
now recovering from two broken legs.  Clo Dohse was in hospital but better now.  Just have some big 
news on my kid over Raboul, but has to wait for more room next week.  His crew from an Assoc Press 
report, shot down 3 Zeros after having 2 engines put out of commission.  Tell you more next week.  
Eleanor Sunday, and Peggy Tem. Durnbaugh, write me the dope.  Let us all in on all blessed events.  
We tell nothing until right time.  Want to hear from Wally Jones too. 
NOVEMBER 9, 1943
     Allright, Kiwaniana, let's go on some new copy.  Things are happening fast around this old burg 
these days, and we have to step to keep up with it.  First, The attendance last Tuesday was almost 
perfect with only two absent, and boys, when they see that picture, they will be sorry.  But that was 
really a mob when you got them altogether.  Sure wish that Byron, Jerry, the Doc's. Bob and Lorin 
could have been with us that day.  We will ship the picture and that of the active presidents into the 
State and International headquarters and let them make the most of it. To our discredit, there aren't 
over fifteen percent of our club that actually knows the Pledge of Allegiance.  We mumble thru it 
something terrible, and since Alva sprung the idea on us Tuesday, let's learn it so that we can speak 
right out in any meeting.  And say it with plenty of emphasis.  I mumbled it too but not any more.  
Here it is in capital letters, and let's memorize it now. 
     Just phoned Harold Bowman and Leewell Carpenter to get this and to make sure it was right, so 
blame me if a word is left out.
     Here is something special.  Harold Bowman tells me that the four service clubs are going together 
for a Special meeting on Monday evening, Nov. 15th and that they have secured a man from Chicago, 
who hails from old Mexico, and is traveling over the U.S.A. as a Good Will Ambassador from Mexico.  
They claim he is really tops as a talker and tells a story that makes F.D.R. a piker.  That a week from 
next Monday night, and all clubs want a 100% attendance.  More next week on this.  There will be a 
program next Tuesday noon at the regular stand, Indiana Hotel.  Everybody be there.
     A little red headed, freckle faced friend of mine from Indianapolis, by the name of John McGurk, 
who runs the Mutual Benefit in Indiana just insists on sending me stories that I can use in the Bullaton.  
Today, I got a letter and in it was this story. "Three ducks were waddling down the road to the lake, all 
very hungry, one a German duck, one a Jap duck, and one an American duck.  They were going to 
swim to the other side where they knew they could get some food.    As they reached the water line, the 
suddenly saw three piles of food.  One pile was sauerkraut, one was rice and the other was beans.  The 
German duck attacked the sauerkraut and ate it all down.  The Jap duck attacked the rice and ate it all 
down.  The American duck did the same with the huge pile of beans.  The three ducks then started to 
swim across the lake.  In midstream, the heavy sauerkraut was too much for the German duck and he 
sank from sight.  Almost immediately the soggy rice proved to heavy for the Jap duck and he, too, sank 
from sight, while the American duck, full of god old Boston beans, started to go "put-put-put-put-put-
put" and sailed right along to the other side.
     Here's one that came thru the mail unsigned.  Wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't Milo Meredith, so I 
figure this isn't political.  "Five thousand years ago Moses said, "Pick up your shovel, mount your ass 
and camels and I'll lead you to the promised land."
     Five thousand years later Roosevelt said, "Lay down your shovel, sit on your ---pants, light a 
Camel.  This is the promised land. 
     The little poem that Satch Buehler sent me was a little raw to run in a nice clean sheet like the 
Bullaton.  Not bad, understand but we do have a lot of ladies who read this and the Board of Censors 
decided we might offend somebody.  Pretty cut, tho, Satch.
     Well, you stalwarts from Wabash, now ranging the plains, wading the swamps, cutting thru the 
ocean at 70 miles per, and even down under the sea, as well as in the air, and sliding over the ice in 
Alaska to you all, I say, Greetings.  I'm getting off to a good start this eve and feel like a million my- 
self, so we may get lots of things done tonight.  Good fire going in the old stove, if those rats building 
a nest in the partition don't get on my nerves.  But, boys, did you ever see a clown in a circus running 
along ahold of the tail of an elephant?  Can't catch up and he can't let go?  That's me with the Bulla- 
ton.  I got something started here that has me stepping to keep up with.  As sure as you mail your Bull- 
aton to some friend of yours from Wabash, he write right home to Homer T. and wants on the list.   
And your mamma shows up and what can I do.  Letters?  From 3 to 7 a day, and such letters.  U boys 
don't mean half what you say.  Just a line, that's all, but it sounds good to the old man and the club too, 
(I hope) as KIWANIS PAYS THE FREIGHT.  George Jolly dropped in last Sat night from Camp Mc- 
Coy Wis. Looking swell.  Only had 24 hour leave.  Lt. (Ahem) Billy Cowgill home too for a few days, 
and boys, old man Hauk, Jims Dad says that his grocery bill has trebled since Jim came home for 30 
days.  So's the light bill up at Alex----.  But that's O.K.  Got Paul Coomlers announcement on the new 
baby, but we beat him to it.  Knew it months ahead of time.  Congrats Paul and Mrs. Paul.  Harry For- 
bes goin' to be married to Helen H. Nov. 21st.  Sure I'm going.  I can see old Harry now, pale around 
the gills, eyes shining like the headlights on the old Plymouth, oh my.  And Eddie Ritchee, heard from 
him today.  Address ARM 626-46-52 CASY 7 VC 21 Flt P.M. San Fran.  Says lots of cuties out there 
but strong for little peroxide back home.  She's O.K. by me, Eddie, although you did switch gals right 
under my nose.  Don't blame you for not getting to S.S. Eddie bowled a 657 series out in Seattle last 
week.  Naw, that's too much.  A letter from PVT Robt Sunday P.O. Box 1000 Marine Bks Quantico 
Va.  Got both Warnie and Fred on list.  Fred's to busy fighting to write, and Warnies just to busy. War-  
nies in Texas.  Say, that poem on Texas got a couple boys in an actual fight someplace.  I better be car- 
eful.  A/S Don Wertenberger 89th CTD Sqdrn 2 Creighton Unit Omaha, Neb. Wants you all to write.  
Says Bull in Bullaton "best thing in World today."    Haven't heard from Duke B. for weeks, but I 
know about where he is in a tough spot 600 miles N.E. New Guinea.  As he said in a letter, when he 
sees a Liberator go over, he always thins, "Maybe that's Charley up there."  Well Duke, you are about 
right from all reports.  And Paul Lamale and maybe Paul Bishop too.  Luck to you Duke.  Keep your 
head, and boys write him.  Corp. Robert Bridegroom H&S Co. 21st Mar (Reinf) Fleet P.O. San Fran. 
Ca.  Bullaton followed Robt Gene Alger S2/C USN 10th US Nav. Con. Batt Fleet P.O. San Fran, Ca 
across the U.S. and half way across ocean before it caught up with him.  Says the poem, "Somewhere 
in Pacific" not exaggerated one bit.  Keep writing Bob.  Thru the Bullaton Pvt Dick Tewksbury Law 
Commons Room 106 Un. Of Iowa Iowa City found Bill Jones, and Bill had made the second string Sea 
Hawks, and that is something.  Tueky begins to fly right after Xmas.  Don't get discouraged.  Hit the 
ball, you can make it.  Your Dad is so proud of you he almost busts the buttons on his coat and vest.  
Remember PVT Glenn Waite 35558477 404 T.G. Flight L-1 AAFTTC BTC 4 Miami Beach Fl.  Wa-  
nts to be remembered to all the boys.  Hope you get your wings.  By the way, Jack Mathers just got his 
wings.  Will be home this week.  I knew he'd do it.  Swell letter, Don Baer, A/S Don B. 35147058 Sqd 
A Sec 9 63rd CTD (AC) U. of Tenn Knoxville, Tn.  Tell the Pulley boys to write.  Don B. studying to 
be Bombadier.  Loves the Air Corps.  Playing football too.  We'll be looking for you when you get 
home.  The girls always want your letters read on S. morning.  You must have something I ain't got.  
Say, you birds in the Pacific, both on the sea and in the air, marines, etc. A.J. Foster Cl-500 17th St 
Naval Cantonment Honolulu 62 T.H. writes from Hawaii that there are literally thousands going thru 
the port there but has never seen a man from Wabash.  If any of you land there and have liberty, jot his 
name and address on a piece of paper and look Foster up.  You'll have the time of your life, as he kn- 
ows all the ropes.  Good story you told but not enough room for it.  Write again.  Hope boys look you 
up.  Have a swell letter from Capt. Paul Lamale VMTB 233 Mag 11, Maw 1 Navy #140 San Fran, Ca.  
Says he spent one evening with Charley in Sidney when both were on rest.  Wonderful.  Sure the boys 
all remember you.  By the way, Robt Barnhart 36246981 20th Stn Hospital #P.M. San Fran Ca. APO 
709 is where u are Paul L.  Keep an eye open.  Chuck Glazier, have you found Eldon Stoops and Char- 
ley Long down where you are.  Darn this censorship business.  Wish I could really tell you things.  
Wish all you 100 APOs would let me know how much I say is censored.  I try to be careful.  U ought 
to read Toady Clauve's letter.  He's a CB and is rebuilding the Pacific.  What a letter.  Must have cros- 
sed the Pacific in a rowboat.  Write us again and keep us informed.  Address W.O. Clauve Co A 76 
CB's Fleet P.O. San Fran Cal.  Now, boys, I'm out of paper.  Must quit.  But for the love of Mike, let 
them all know that Wabash IS the garden spot of the world.  Talk it up wherever you go, and I can 
promise you better things back home (if possible), and a better Bullaton.  U'll be surprised.  Goodnight 
gang.  Homer T.  
NOVEMBER 30, 1943
     It's a far cry from the time that our forefathers landed on those bleak New England shores, and hued 
and hacked a place for them all to live.  They were truly thankful and set aside a day for feasting, and 
for services at the church, with plenty of worship and plenty of prayer.  And I can't help but wonder 
what th9ose old timers would think if they could see what they started way back there in the fifteen 
and sixteen hundreds.  This Thanksgiving Day, and we have boys making landings on the rocky coats 
of the Aleutians; we have them now moping up down in the South Pacific at Bouganville, and now in 
the Gilberts and the Marshall Islands.  And we certainly did our share of landing under terrific condit- 
ions all the way from Casablanca right across Sicily to Salerno.  Well, there is still a lot of doubt in my 
mind what this whole this is about, but the real Thanksgiving will be when we get the boys all back 
where they belong.  Maybe a war is what it takes to toughen men up for the battles of life, but I'm pers- 
onally don't like it.  Kiwanis really started the work out right by surprising Ware Wimberly.  Thirty 
five Kiwanians collected on the east side of the church and slipped into the auditorium and down in 
front just ahead of Wares coming out of the vestry.  He cam into the room expecting to see those same 
homely faces he sees every Sunday, but this time he was fooled.  There sat about seventy five percent 
of the Kiwanis Club.  First, we noticed a little grin and then his neck got a little red.  Otherwise, he 
wasn't disturbed in the least.  We must hand it to him for perfect control of himself under fire, and I am 
going to say something else that will meet with the approval of all Kiwanians present, that it has been 
many a day since we heard a better sermon.  It was so quiet during that sermon that you could have 
heard a fly walk across the ceiling.  That was the nearest 100% attention that any sermon ever recei- 
ved.  I could say a lot more things but I better not or some of you critics will think I am desecrating the 
Sabbath or something, but we want all the 250 boys and 50 Kiwanians to know what a good job you 
did, Ware, when you were surprised and under considerable pressure.  Furthermore, John Ford is the 
Kiwanian who thot of doing this, and he went ahead and sent out letters and put it over with a bang.  
Now, the movement is on to go from once church to another as the months pass.  What if the whole 
Kiwanis Club walked into one of our little churches like the Pilgrim Holiness or the Wesleyan Metho- 
dists?  Think it over.  We didn't get to stay and hear Hobart Creighton from Warsaw but we understand 
he made a good impression on the club.  He is probably one of these "self made men" like our own 
Howard Halderman, only Hobart is not so rough or noisy.  Boys, and listen next week is a headliner 
that Ralph Barrett is bringing in from Indianapolis, in the person of Carl Mote, the author of "America 
Preferred."  From the things he has printed, I am amazed that he is still out of jail.  I understand that he 
was called into Washington and investigated, but he had all the facts.  When I first met him, I thot I 
would see a wild looking fellow with long hair, but instead he is really quite the gentleman.  Owns a 
couple telephone companies too.  We don't need to urge a big crowd.
Characters:  a tall and a short moron, out walking and they found a tall board fence.
Tall moron, "Ah, you should see what I see on the other side of the fence."
Short moron,  "What is it?"
Tall moron,  "A nudist colony."
Short moron,  "Are they men or women?"
Tall moron,  "I can't tell, they don't have their clothes on."
An actual Epitaph from a monument in Maine:
     Here lies the body of Mary Ann
     Resting on the bosom of Abraham
     Very nice for Mary Ann
     Pretty hard for Abraham.
Mussolini cooked his goose, Parley Vous
He proved he is just a dirty duce, Parley Vous
Our bombers punctured his bag of gas
Till even Italy kicked his ---
Hinky Dinky Parley Vous.
A backwoods mountaineer found a mirror which a tourist had lost.  "Wal, if it ain't my old dad," he 
said as he looked in it.  "I never knowed he had his pitcher took!"  He took the mirror home.  That 
night while he slept, his wife fount it.  "Hah!" she said, looking into it, "so that's the old hag he's been 
achasin' lately."
     Well, I haven't had much comment yet on the newer smaller type we used in the Bullaton last week 
for the first time.  We were actually able to get a half page more of your letters from time to time.  We 
have lots of news this time.  First I want to give you the address of Ward Vandegrift.  Here it is Lt. J. 
Ward Vandegrift, American prisoner of War No 2774 Stalag Luft 111 Germany via New York City.  
The instructions say that friends may write one page length letters and are asked to use the light Air 
Mail stationery.  Now, won't you use some sense in what you are writing, and try to get a letter thru to 
Ward.  I am hoping the Bullaton will find its way thru for both Ward and Bill Barker.  I want to give 
you Bill address again.  1st Lt William L. Barker, American POW Internded at Stalagluss 3/German 
No 1732 Via New York City.  Barkers folks tell me that he is able to write one letter a month, but that 
he can received all that are sent him, although they are censored.
     Now, gang I am back down here in my own office at night, and nobody to bother me, and I refuse 
to move until I get this done.  I have often told you that I must write this on Wednesday or Thursday 
night to get it mailed by Friday evening, and this is ONCE I slipped.  And, today, Friday, I have tried 
to write the sheet, and I have been harassed, bothered, heckled in my own office that I finally left for 
the County Agents office, and it wasn't much better.  I was called three times, while up there, and then 
moved over to the county superintendents office as their office was supposed to be closed.  No more 
than got in there until a couple of girls, you know, schools teachers, looking for jobs came in and no- 
thing would do but that I put down on paper what they wanted Mr. Vandegrift to know.  That took an- 
other half hour.  Then Homer Williams, D. Sheriff came to the door and says, "This where you'r hiding 
out?  Frank Gurtner has been trying to find you all over town."  So I gave up in disgust.  Now, I am 
back here, the lights are low, the towns quiet, and I am going to get this done REGARDLESS, not that 
it is so important to you, but I have had dozens of fellows tell me that they know to within an hour of 
when they can expect the Bullaton, and naturally I hate to disappoint them.  Today I opened a letter 
from Lt. Col., J.T. Biggerstaff, 48th Sqdrn 313th T.C. Grp APO 760 New York City.  He says "Just 
wanted you to know I am receiving and enjoying the Bullaton.  Very thotful of Kiwanis in mailing this 
news sheet out to the boys from Wabash.  It certainly is good to get news from the old hometown and 
the boys from there.  My regards to all and "Good Luck" to Charley when you write him.  O.K. John,  
We hope you are lucky enough to run into some other Wabash boys.  Write us again.  John Ebbing- 
house, Verling Weesner, Doc LaSalle, Jack Cross and a host of others are in your locality, but I find 
none with the identical APO number.  By the way, boys, you will be glad to hear the Perry Cross just 
got a letter where big Jack has been doing some unusually valuable and difficult work in delivering 
supplies under heavy fire, for which he is being "commended," and signed by a couple of Army offi- 
cers.  I know the kid had more guts than his old man as I have wallered him around plenty in the past 
twenty-five years.  I will say though that old Perry was easy to bend and hard to break.  Anyway, jack, 
we all congratulate you on a good job, and I am passing your address on to the rest of the boys so that 
some of the old cronies can see where you are by this time.  Sgt. John H. Cross 353705222Co. D 396th 
Corps Bn T.C. c/o P.M. New York City APO 758.  Here is one on Jack.  In the landing on Sicily, he 
lost everything he owned, in other words all he saved was his first bathing, his wrist watch, fountain 
pen, all the little stuff.  I have heard of fellows losing their trousers sometimes and they would turn up 
in a questionable end of town but to lose ALL your possession is BAD.  Letter here from Bob Sham- 
baugh ASN 35147054 601 Trng. Gp 63 Wing BTC #3 Sheppard Field, Tx.  Says he is glad to get Dut- 
ch Strucks address.  Haven't heard from Dutch myself yet, but it will be good when I do.  Some kid 
said he heard the boys talking about the coach or instructor at their camp, and heard them call him Dut- 
ch, and he thot, I wonder if that could be Dutch Struck and he went looking and sure enough, it was 
Dutch Struck.  Small world.  Nice letter here from Fred Hodel.  Says the first mail he had when he ar- 
rived in England was the Keewanus Bullaton, and what a thrill he got.  Says if all the boys do as well 
for Wabash as he is in Ballyhooing the old home town, she will be known around the world.  Speaks of 
Margie Stewart, says she is known to all in his Btn due to Life magazine and his efforts.  We may have 
a message some of these days for you boys from Margie Steward.  Fred's address, Sgt. Fred Hodel 
35110742 H and S Co. 326th Eng Bn c/o P.M. APO 472 New York  City.   Trying to find Wabash 
boys in London but hasn't been able to yet.  Good letter from Bob Clark, Pvt (35099590) Co E 192nd 
Inf Tng Bn Camp Blanding, Fl.  I mean a good letter and one I personally appreciate, coming from 
what I call one of the older boys.  Luck to you, Bob, and keep me posted on your change of address.  I 
wish all you guys wrote me as steadily as Pvt. Richard E. Allen 35570881 Co A 1881st Eng Bn (AV) 
APO 929 P.M. San Francisco Ca.  A while back he wrote me that he had walked in on my kid on the 
other side of the world and there he sat painting a picture.  Keep them coming, Dick, and hang on.  
Your in one of the tough spots of the picture just now.  Time passes, and things change.  First thing 
you know, things will crack up, and it won't be US, and you will be home again with your feet under 
Grandpa Allen's table and Aunt Edwina and Aunt Ruth will bring in their offsprings, three or four 
apiece and what a time you will all have (Just to myself, what I'm thinking about is what an explosion 
there is going to be when Edwina reads this as she never misses reading an issue of this sheet)   Oh 
my!  And what a personal bang out of this letter from Dick Baumbaer.  Baumy has signed up for nav- 
igation, and is now compelled to leave Don Baer and the two Pulley boys.  I hate that.  The boys were 
doing so well together down in Knoxville, Tenn.  If that navigator job isn't THE tough one in a ship 
just what would be.  How a guy can set down in an airplane and do a problem in higher mathematics 
especially when they are being shot at, is beyond me.  I couldn't figure out a problem in Math with 
Bess Baer standing right over me explaining, but neither could Kenny Yarnelle either. Says he simply 
can't is a copy of the Bullaton so he will have his mother come and get them and send them to him 
when he gets his new address.   O.K. Boy.  Met a swell looking boy today, visiting a sister in Wabash.  
A Pilot of a P47 a Thunderbolt.  His home address is 2719 Alrich South, Minneapolis, a Lt. M.J. 
Rosvold.  Now I gotta quit for sure.  So, Good luck, good night, and write, your folks, your wife, your 
girl and the Wabash Keewanus Club.  Homer T. 
MAY 23, 1944
     Spring is here once more.  The lilacs and the honeysuckle are all in bloom, the grass is green, and 
there is a fragrance in the air that you find only in good old Indiana.  I drove thru the City Park, and it is 
very good to look upon, the most beautiful natural park in Indiana.  We are putting in a very smooth ce- 
ment floor in the pavilion, which will be used this summer by the old and the young.  Reunions will 
have a place to eat in the event of rain, the boys and girls will have a place to skate under the supervis- 
ion of Cecil Mills, and the younger older folks will have the opportunity of dancing there when they 
like.  It should be very popular.  In furthering the State Gladioli Show, to be held in Wabash in August, 
the city is planting 1200 bulbs in a spot west of the tennis courts below the hill.  I only wish we could 
have some animals of some variety as an added attraction for the kids, as well as an old fashioned Mer- 
ry-Go-Round.  How popular that would be.  There are hundreds of new people in Wabash who will 
make their home here, and we must not only keep in step with the progress of our industries, but we 
must set the pace.  Well, enough of that.  We had another good meeting Tuesday.  Dr, Pearson, due to 
the illness of his wife came back from Hawaii in three days time, and was our guest.  He told us some 
interesting things about our boys over seas.  Also he complimented our Bullaton and urged its continu- 
ance.  Then Claire McTurnan of Indianapolis gave us a splendid talk on the theme that Freedom is the 
reward for Eternal Vigilance.  Very good, indeed.  We now have sixty members in the K Club and still 
growing, the strongest and probably the most progressive civic organization in Wabash.  The new mem- 
bers are Clint Cooper, First National Bank, J. Paul Sellers, 641 W. Hill St., Robt. King, Plain Dealer, 
Frank Stephens, lumber and Coal, Leonard Tyner, County Clerk, L.R. Addington, %Wabash Filing  
Supplies, J. Bon Hershberger, Middle St. Methodists, W.E. Clark, c/o American Rock Wool Corp., and 
Wm Visser, 306 Elm St., now Boy Scout Ex. Of Wabash County.  And the year is only half thru.  There 
easily nine more men just as fine to be taken in before the close of the year.  I have just me three of the 
executives of the General Electric Company, who have just purchased the Wabash Cabinet Company, 
and they talk and act like go-Getters.  Yes, the future here looks very bright both for Kiwanis and the 
City, I figured out this slogan, "A Hundred Thousand by the year Two Thousand."  Bud Mahaney pops 
off "Hell, by that time, we'll all be dead," And maybe that is a little far-sighted.  Anyway, fifteen 
thousand by 1950.  Now--------
     Buss Kuffell, up at the fire station, hailed me as I came down the hill, and says, "Here is something 
for the Bullaton.  Dedicate it to old Jack Fraustein down in Panama."  So I says O.K. and here it is.
One night              Settle down                       And here is a story which I question a little, but handed to 
  In June                  Married life                     me by a lady who I can't turn down as she addresses too
Stars Shine           Happy man                        many Bullatons for me.  Here it is.
  Big moon              Happy wife                        "Reginald was an innocent youth who had reached the
                                                                        Advanced age of 19 without having tasted of the forbidden
In park                  Another night                    fruit of the Garden of Eden.  His folks had protected him 
  On bench               In June                            from all the evil contacts with the world.  But in an unfor-
With girl              Stars shine                          tunate moment, he met Inez, a grass widow, gay and full of
  In clinch                Big moon                        laughter with a naughty look in her big beautiful brown 
                                                                        Eyes.  And, like the famous one hoss Shay, Reginald went 
Me say                 Ain't happy                        to pieces all at once.  There was something about Inez that
  Me love                 No more                         awakened some new strange feeling in the heart of the 
She coo                Carry baby                         youth.  Reg's parents had reason to be worried.  Both of      
  Like dove              Walk floor.                     them knew what harm Inez could do to a boy whose life
                                                                        Was still unstained by sin---and they knew that to the gay
Me smart              Wife mad                           young widow, the unspoiled boy might have a special
  Me fast                   She fuss                         appeal.  Perhaps Inez may have said to herself, "Some 
Never let               Me mad                             woman will teach him what a man ought to know.  Why
  Chance pass          Me cuss.                          Not I?"  At any rate, Reginald burst into the room where
                                                                        his parents were sitting one night about 9 o'clock.  They 
Get hitched           Life one                             knew he had gone for a walk in the park with Inez.  His
  Me say,                  Big spat                          hair was ruffled.  His eyes had a look they never seen
She say                 Naggin' wife                     before.   "I know all," he fairly shouted, "From Inez, I
  O.K.                       Squawling brat.              Have learned what you folks should have taught me long
                                                                       Ago.  Why, he asked, have you kept me in ignorance of
Wedding bells      Me realize                         of the facts of life all these years."  "What has happened,
  Will ring                 At last                           my boy?" asked the fond mother, "What has Inez done to 
Honeymoon         Me too                               my innocent boy?"  "I am innocent no longer," he cried, "I 
  Everything              Damn fast.                    Know the truth at last.  Inez told me tonight that there 
Note:-Now read it right across.  Funny         really isn't any Santa Clause."
To some, but not the old married men.    
     Now with the above out of the road, and with the cut out wide open we can really go to town.  I wish 
all I had to write to was you fellows, I would really give you the works.  The way it is, people are apt to 
be critical, give you the horse laugh and cramp your style in a small town like this, and especially when 
the Mayor is supposed to be dignified.  And I am, too.  So we just struggle along, week after week and 
get this stuff out to you fellows, me and my helpers, Lavita Mallott, Betty Eckman, Pat Shambaugh, 
Mrs. Grubb, Betty Davis, Mamma Showalter, and that group of fifty Kiwanians who are sending out 
from four to twelve Bullatons each week on their own expense.  Everyone does everything so willingly.  
Two weeks ago, the American Legion sent over a check for $200 made out to the Kiwanis Club to use 
on the Bullaton, and this week. Comes a check for $25.00 from the Legion Auxiliary.  That is swell, 
boys, don't you think?  Of course, we will have to put more and more boys on the mailing list, and you 
fellows who have sponsors should let them hear from you, especially when you move from one spot to 
another.  They appreciate your letters and so do I.  This morning another group of sixty left Wabash for 
Indianapolis and it makes a fellow feel sick.  I believe fifty of them were married too.  Five members of 
the track team go to the state Meet at Indianapolis Saturday, and we are pulling for them strong. Will let 
you know how they come out.  Now, the letters.  Ten yesterday morning in one mail.  Letter from Capt 
Junior Van Horn from APO 322, Unit l, New Guinea, says, "I ran into an old Wabash boy, today, and 
had to let you know right away.  None other than Lt. Carl (Satch) Buehler.  He's coming over again to- 
night and the cook is doing an extra good job on the canned hash,  Also we drink a toast to old Wabash 
as Satch dug up three quarts of Aussie beer."  That is swell, boys, but I hope you don't learn to drink 
over there.  Get you into trouble, sure.  Don't you boys forget Doc Slegelmilch over there in Gen. Hos- 
pital 85,.  We must have fifty Wabash boys in and close to New Guinea.  Keep looking.  Yesterday, I 
showed 50 snapshots to the K Club that Leo Sarten sent back from New G. and they were swell.  Get all 
the pictures and souvenirs you can.  They don't mean much now, but to your grandchildren---.  Another 
letter here from Sicily from John Ebbinghouse, who was excited as a school kid when he wrote: "Tha- 
nks to the Bullaton, I had the thrill of a lifetime today.  Sitting in my tent, and who should walk in but 
Sam Schlemmer who I lived next to for years.  Nobody every looked better to me than he did.  Sam was 
on a rest leave from Italy."  That is fine, John, You should see Peachy Lutz some of these days as he 
writes that he gets into practically every one of those ports over there, flying a transport.  Gilbert Wilson 
is another boy, you may meet.  He left Topeka, Kansas, as a pilot of a Liberator and flew it across the 
Atlantic, but says, when they got there, they took away the Libs and gave them Fortresses instead.  Now 
flying the fortress.  Seems like yesterday that he left Wabash for his training.  Best of luck to you, Gil- 
bert, just keep your head.  Eliz. Talbert is sending you the addresses of Bill Fleshood, John Mossman, 
and Ralph Ross.  John Anderson, flying a twin motor bomber for months up into Italy has your same 
APO 520.  Thru Red Cross, see if you can't get together.  Don't forget that Doc LaSalle is in Sicily.  
Donnie Lauer back from 50 bombing missions over Europe a couple months ago was in the office yes- 
terday after having bought a car and we talked things over.  Incidentally while here in the office he bou- 
ght a full coverage insurance for the car, which didn't make me so mad either.  Good boy, Donnie is.
      Bob Lower, in the Navy, is home now.  Two trips across and back.  On one trip, he ran into Jack Cross 
      in Palermo.  This Lower boy is brown, picked up twenty pounds and looks like a million.  Came to Sun-
day School last Sunday but wouldn't make a speech.  Nice couple, my kind of people.  And say, while I 
am thinking about it, don't think that you have to be an officer in the service to amount to some- thing 
after the war.  Most of the best citizens we got in Wabash were just gobs or buck privates in the World 
War I.  I've heard Bruce Merritt say many a time, "Who wants to be an officer in the army?  Just a lot of 
grief and everybody hates you.  No time to shoot crap."  Bruce wasn't a howling success in the army but 
today, he says whether you can have any gas or not if you live in Wabash.  Then there is Howard Hald- 
erman.  Big, strong, and must have been dumb because he never did anything to write home about.  
Bruce says they made Howard a Sergeant after the war was all over and Howard wasn't afraid to speak 
up any more.  And Bill Delaplane, surely one of our leaders, he was in the infantry.  He says he finally 
got to be a Lt. But the boys always laughed about it.  Delaplane says Merritt was in the artillery 70 mi-
les back, and they had to worry more about the artillery than they did the Germans up in front.  And Lt. 
Yarnelle claims to this day that he holds the long distance record as a 1stLouie.  Never had a promotion.  
Gene Weesner, john Beamer, Wilbur Ford, all without rank or distinction. So you boys who don't get a 
promotion every other day, don't worry about it.  Of course, on our list we do have an ungodly lot of 
officers, but that is probably because so many of them were in my Sunday School class so long.  By the 
way, we do have a 168 boys now on the Honor Roll from the Class.  Here is a letter from Thurman Ma- 
urer from Australia with an APO 922.  Earl Figert and Atlee Lawson both have that same APO.  Maybe 
you can meet.  You are fight about the Bullaton, unless all the boys are lying to me.  Say, I met Bill Sh- 
oltys, now in England, wife last week over at the Coffee Shop.  Whoops, she's a looker.  Bill, you know 
how to pick them.  Hope you locate in Wabash after the war, Bill.  This town is going to need lots of 
Doctors after the War.  And here is a letter from a young man, T/Sgt. Maurice Penniston over in Hawaii.  
This boy is a character.  Says I got the girls on those So. Pacific Islands figured all wrong.  Some of the 
most beautiful women he ever saw, were on some island down there, etc.  Never examined them for 
lice, etc.  Reminds me of the story that Toady Clauve just sent back for me to the boys if they haven't 
heard it.  Says a lot of "boots" as he called them were relieving a group of vets on an island.  The girls 
of the island were down to see the old boys off and the new boys come in.  One of the dark-skinned 
cuties was particularly "that and that" and sauntered down the beach, causing one of the new boys to 
say, "Hey, look at that.  Too bad she isn't white," to which one of the vets came back, "Why, isn't she?" 
Yea, Penny, Art Foster is back in Honolulu.  Sorry you missed him.  Try it again.  Jim Guthrie has been 
on the New Hebrides, and Bouganville and now on the move again.  Remember, Jim, Doc Rhamy on 
the Bunker Hill, Dick Hoover on the Dixie.  Must quit now, and haven't even started.  Homer T. 
SEPTEMBER 12, 1944
     Once more the old Editor reaches or the typewriter, and as he flexes his strong fingers, the battered 
old machine fairly shrinks from his touch.  But, this old L.C. Smith has taken lots of punishment and I 
reckon it can take four hours more.   Kiwanians, I like Hap Tillotson, our speaker today.  He is not 
quite as fast a talker as John Beamer, but he sticks nearer the truth.  I have heard John V. speak on the 
subject of Rock Wool too, and it was too much.  Remember the time John told us that you could bury 
an icicle in a sack of Rock Wool in the fall, put it in a redhot stove, and by April, it would just begin to 
melt a little.  But Hap tells a pretty good story, and we like him even tho he does belong to the Rotary 
Club.  Come again, Hap.  You Kiwanians are doing very good now on mailing your Bullatons, and you 
are urged never to miss sending them out to the boys each week.  We have a lot more names now, and 
you will be getting some more assigned to you soon.  Everybody wants the Bullaton.  I had twenty-two 
requests in today's mail, and two letters from boys in service who weren't getting it.  We can't do a 
finer thing for less money or effort, and we are all doing it, which makes it easy.
     Here is a good story I picked up today that I got a bang out of.  What makes it funnier was that it 
happened right here in town.  Upon on the side hill, we have a druggist (not mentioning any names) 
who has been short of help, like everybody else, and once in a while he would call up a certain prea- 
cher here in town and have him cone in while the druggist stepped out for something to eat.  On this 
particular noon as our preacher walked into the store to relieve our druggist, he noticed a young lade 
gazing intently into the display window.  The preacher went on in and hung up his hat as the druggist 
left, and just got behind the counter, when the young lady walked hesitatingly into the store and up to 
the counter.  "That baby tonic you advertise in the window," she said, "does it really make babies big- 
ger and stronger?"  The preacher who was stronger on the 23rd Psalm than he was on the merits of a 
patent medicine; said, "Well, we sell a great deal of it and we have never had a complaint." Apparen-  
tly that was convincing enough for the young lady and she had him wrap up a bottle.  She started to 
walk out and then she hesitated and came back, and motioned to the preacher to follow her over to a 
far corner of the store, and then she whispered: "About this baby tonic?  Who takes it-me or my 
     He says:-"Please."  She says, "no."  He says, "Aw, please," and she says "N0."  Then he says, 
"Even if I tell you that I love you more than anything else in the world?"  She: "Positively NO."  He: 
"Aw, but Mother, all the other freshmen stay out till after nine."
     Fooled you that time, didn't he?  Well, we have a lot of fun as we travel along thru life, and we 
wouldn't trade it for plenty of gold.  These days, our young men are going thru experiences that try 
their souls.  Some will stumble, and some will fall and others will hang on, and learn that there is a 
certain joy in hard earned victory.  A woman here in town handed me these three verses, and asked me 
why not give the boys something really "worthwhile."  Maybe, she didn't like the stories I tell, but I 
read the verses, and the more I thot about them, the more they impressed me.  Read them over slowly 
at least three times, and make them your creed.
We would be building: temples till undone                Teach us to build; upon the solid rock
O'er crumbling walls their crosses scarcely lift:-       We set the dream that hardens into deed.
Waiting till love can raise the broken stone                Ribbed with the steel that time and change 
And hears creative, bridge the human rift.                       doth mock
We would be building, Master, let Thy plan               Unfailing purpose of our noblest creed,
Reveal the life that God would give to man.               Teach us to build, Oh, Master, lend us sight,
                                                                                     To see the towers gleaming in the light.
                                                            Oh, keep us building, Master, May our hands
                                                     Ne'er falter when the dream is in our hearts
                                                     Then to the ears there comes divine commands
                                                     And all the pride of sinful will depart. 
                                                     We build with thee of great enduring worth
                                                     Until the heavenly kingdom comes to earth.
     Now, let's see gang, just what we have to tell you tonight.  One of the best things I've heard lately 
was in a letter from George Parks which I just received today.  George says I better lay off Freddie 
Vincent because he, (George) might have to take me to task.  George says that last fall at the Peru 
Football game, his Dad and mother were standing along side the fence down there watching the game 
which was a tough one.  George had just made a nice run and the crowd was yelling for him, and 
George's Dad felt someone pull at his elbow.  He turned and there stood Fred Vincent.  Freddie said, 
"See that fellow make that run?"  George's dad made some remark, and Freddie continued looking 
seriously out across the field, "I raised that boy, I'm his father."  The old man looked at his wife, Mrs. 
Parks almost fainted, and Freddie, still not knowing he was talking to the parents walked off.  O.K., 
George, I better be careful.  I see your address is Pvt. George S. Parks ASN 15345364, 3706 AAF Base 
Unit (BTC) Sec. O Bks. 309, Sheppard Field, Tx.  Go to it, George, and plenty of luck to you.  Boys 
here's a story on Herb Urschell from France.  He landed with his troop of paratroopers behind the 
lines, helped capture 8 Germans, knocked out a Germ 88 mm gun position and succeeded in wiping 
out 70 German soldiers.  He was wounded a couple times, but not enough to stop him.  He was a tough 
boy and must be tougher now than ever.  His old man can't see any of us ordinary fellows since this 
came out.  Emil Olsen has been wounded in action too in France.  His wife lives here on E. Sinclair.  
Plenty of luck, Emil.  Bob Coburn, another boy from Wabash now in the So. Pac. has been promoted 
to a Staff Sergeant.  Where is that darned letter from some kind in Australia.  Can't find it.  Anyway he 
tells me, that he is "going to stay in Australia, to into business, and cross rabbits with kangaroos, and 
produce fur coats with pockets in them."  My, God, what next.  Here is a swell letter from Bill Roggee 
from France, who crawls out of his foxhole long enough to write me.  Bill is sold on the French people.  
Says the "children are all beautiful and the girls, Oh, my.  They run along side of you, and pour Cog- 
nac into your cup." Uh, huh, Bill, maybe that wine is what makes them all look beautiful.  I quote, 
"Wine is a mocker, and strong drink is a brawler."  Don't worry, Bill, Harold Talbert tells me he will 
be waiting to pin your "ears back" in bowling when you get back.  Keep me posted, Bill, you write a 
good letter.  Stay after those Germans and it won't be long.  I just got word that Jim Pitts will soon be 
heading home after two years in New Caledonia.  I have to watch that grapevine stuff.  I made an aw- 
ful error last week.  Somebody told me Ding Durnbaugh had a baby, and I printed it.  It now develops 
that my paper went to press too quick.  Am really sorry.  No more grapevine stuff.  Say, boys, some of 
you will remember Hugh Allen Day, a good looking blond kid that went with us on that bus to the Wo- 
rld's Fair.  Boy from Ohio, relation to the Morrow girls?  He has just been made a Captain and is due 
for a furlough.  He has been in the Azores and in his outfit is our own Bill Martin.  Nice letter from Ed 
Richee from Hawaii.  If you get into Hilo, don't fail to see Pete Beamer.  Eddie, one of your old girls 
was out at the dance last night at the Park, the dark haired one.  I didn't see the little blond.  Had she 
been there I would have seen her.  Boys, I can hardly wait until you get back and see the dance floor 
we have for you out at the City Park.  Do these kids love it.  Last night there must have been three 
hundred out there dancing, 270 girls and 30 boys.  Gail Vandegrift, who ha been in Cincinnati was 
there looking prettier than ever, and so was cadet nurse, Doris Peters.  Then there was Conny Alexan- 
der and the Fedewa flash, as well as Mildred Yarnelle, and a couple hundred more.  Ed Richee ARM 
2/c Composit Sqdrn 21 c/o F. Post Office, San Francisco.  Here's a letter from Clo Dohse from Ireland.  
Says he was sorry to miss the wolf from Guadalcanal (meaning Duke Bridegroom).  Clo says he never 
really appreciated the "Bull" until he got across and it hits the spot.  Thanks Clo.  I see Betty every day 
or so, and she's a great girl.  I'll always appreciate your inviting me to your wedding.  Dohse is riding
one of the bombers.  And so is Bill Price.  Sure anxious to hear from him.  He's a gunner and Radio- 
man on a B24.  And say boys, Bill Sailors was back in town over Sunday, looking like a million.  Add-  
ress Pvt. William D. Sailors 35900917, Class 41-32, 5th S.S. Box 437 K.A.A.F. Kingman Az.  Bill had 
his wife with him, and she is a peach of a girl.  Nice smile, good looking all over.  I met them over at 
Diehl's Pool, and when the war is over Bill is all in favor of a big reunion of old friends right here in 
Wabash.   Here is a letter from PFC Bernard Sloan, who is with the 4th Marine Division and can't tell 
me where he is, but he was in the Tuisian and Saipan affairs.  He wants the Bullaton sent to him.  His 
brother Harry has been forwarding his.  O.K. Boy.  Clo Dohse, cpl. 35576157 APO 16347 AL-4 c/o P. 
Master, New York City.  Am afraid to give your address, Bernard.  Joe Cooper, Linlawn, is home from 
bombing Saipan, Guam.  I believe he was over Guam 14 times flying from a flat top.  And he is all 
decorated up.  But he won't talk .  Maybe I can tell you something next week more about where he has 
been.  Bob Curless, went thru Chicago the other day from the east coast going west to San Fran.  In the 
Navy as an athletic officer.  His wife is home again on East Main Street, and Dorothy, my daughter, is 
on the road home from Fla. Now as Hubert Dubois her Ensign husband is to be assigned to a ship at 
once.  Hate to see Hubert leave, but I will be glad to see that famous Grandson Tommy Dubois, with 
the build of his dad and the line of talk like his grandpa.  I am wondering about my oldest boy, Bob, 
who took off three weeks ago today from Seattle with winter clothing, and plenty of it.  No word as yet 
where he went.  He will get plenty to eat no matter where he is.  His mother always said Bob could 
find the cookies if she hid them in the furnace.  He has a nose for food, but I do wish we knew where 
he went.  One of the Magner boys is in Italy and the other in Hawaii.  Would sure like to hear from the 
two Tweksbury boys.   Give me a letter, boys.  Sgt. Everett Sumpter is now with the 3rd Air Wing and 
is in Hawaii and is inquiring about Jack Butterbaugh.  He is connected with the 5th Amphibian Force.  
Maybe you boys can meet.  A while back over in New Guinea, Bill Delaplane got together with Doc 
Slegelmilch and were together a couple days and then Doc went over to call on Bill and missed his 
boat getting back and stayed for 2 days.  The letters you write Bill D. are a scream.  Virgil Ballard has 
finally wound up over in the N.E. corner of New Guinea APO 920, same as Lee Sarton, Carl, Buehlen, 
Van horn, and max Stevens; Max is riding a B 24 as a Bombadier and I'll bet has helped in late raids.  
You know, boys, I'm not worried about you guys over in New Guinea.  Those gals are too black and 
greasy, but when I saw a picture the other day of French girls kissing American soldiers, that scared 
me, not that it is any of my business, but I can't help remembering that our hospitals after the World 
War I were filled with soldiers who let their sentiment get the best of their common sense, and they are 
still paying the price.  Homer T. 
SEPTEMBER 19, 1944  
At long last, gentle readers, I have met my master.  (No., I haven't passed on yet, a small "m") but, as I 
face this typewriter to once more indulge in these flights of fiction, fancy, humor and bashwaw, my 
face is red.  My light has been dimmed.  We have just heard tonight, one, whom without a doubt is 
without a peer in Indian history deliver an address, filled with the drama, the romance, and the wars of 
our early development of the country, and done in a style no one can imitate.  The ready use of beaut-  
iful words and phrases would have put Patrick Henry himself to shame.  It was beautifully done by 
Hon. Ross Lockridge of Indiana, speaking on the "Wabash River."  Unfortunately for me and my hy- 
sterical disposition, I sat only a few feet from that incomparable Will Rogers of Wabash, (Howard 
Halderman,) and right at the height of a description of an Indian battle, Howard pulled out his pocket 
knife, with a blade six inches long, and leaned over side ways in his folding chair to either scalp or cut
 his pal (Kenny Yarnelle's) throat.   The strain on the chair was too much, Howard lurched sideways, 
Kenny ducked and probably saved his own life, Howard caught himself up off the floor and moved to 
a more substantial bench, and I am going to have to do a lot of apologizing for the fact that I personally 
almost reached the hysterical stage, as did several of the ladies (?) and gentlemen (?) (?)  around me.  
I'm sorry, but I never saw anything as funny in my life.  No kidding, it was a swell meeting with the 
Altrusas and the Business and Professional Women present.  John Beamer. Our silver-tongued pre- 
sident was never better, the Rev. Ben Herschberger sang as never before, and our pianist Louise Bar- 
rett, was a veritable riot of gaiety, color and rhythm.  I hope the Creator heard Ware Wimberly's pra-
yer, as I didn't.  There was a train passing on the Wabash.  Next week, anyway, we meet again, at the 
same place, and how. 
     Here is a piece of poetry that Alva Watson handed me that he claims he wrote, but it don't sound 
like Alva to me.  It's good anyhow.
                                            THE JOY OF LIVING 
If nobody smiled and nobody cheered and nobody helped us along-
If each, every minute; looked after himself, and the good things all went to the strong,
If nobody cared just a little for you, and nobody cared for me,
And we all stood alone in the battle of life, what a dreary old world it would be. 

Life is sweet just because of the friends we have made, and the things which in common we share
We want to live on, not because of ourselves, but because of the people who care.
It's giving and doing for somebody else-on that all life's splendor depends.
And the joy of this world, when we've summed it all up, is found in the making of friends.
     Have a request to print that verse which George Washington is supposed to have recited before he 
cut down the "Cherry Tree" and here it is.  Take it for what it may be worth coming as it does from the 
Father of our Country, but it sounds more like Reginald Tugwell or Harold Iccies, on the morning after 
the night before.
                                      JUST A TREE
Of all the things that I might be, I had to be a lousy tree
A tree that stands out in the street with little doggies round my feet,
I'm nothing else but this, alas, a comfort station in the grass.
I lift my leafy arms to pray; go away little doggie, go away,
A nest of robins in my hair, and what they do gets in my hair;
Of all the things for me to be, I had to be a darned old tree.
     Boys, I'm afraid I can't get serious enough tonight to write this Bullaton, unless I just gradually 
cool off as the hours pass.  It is eleven bells now, and by one thirty, I should be serious enough to suit 
the longest face in Wabash.  But, darn it all fellows, you don't want us to sit around back home here 
and grieve for you fellows overseas.  Unless I don't know "my boys," you want us to stomp right al- 
ong, heads up, and with a laugh in our voice, do the bang up job you fellows are doing in camp here or 
overseas, so that, when you come back, you will have a live up-to-date town to work and prosper in, 
get married and raise your kids in, and raise a little H---, in if you feel like it.  What you are doing now, 
boys, on every battle front of the world is the biggest challenge to us folks back home of any challenge 
of our lives.  The same spirit when the west end used to play the east end, when Wabash played Peru, 
and the way that Notre Dame tears into Southern Cal., is the same unpredictable, unbeatable spirit, that 
now is amazing the world.  We got it, that's all, and let's fight to keep it.  From the school lot right thru 
Africa, Italy, France, Tarawa, Saipan, Burma, Guam is that same unpredictable American spirit.  You, 
boys are truly proving that the only right is the right to be free, and the whole world, friend and enemy, 
will be a long time forgetting just how quickly the boys from America can hit their stride either at play 
or at war.  Now, the news?  Barrels of it.  You fellows cover me up with it.  Letters, cards, and you 
come in immediately when you come back to town, and you tell me who you have seen, and where  
you have been and how much the Bullaton means to you, and you get me all steamed up, and we take 
on another hundred names, and spread them out among the membership of the club.  Last Saturday 
afternoon, a sturdy built little corporal, from the air branch of the Marine Corps walked into the office, 
and said, "Are you Homer T. Showalter?"  I told him I was, and stuck out a mit, and said, "Shake, I am 
Charles Sutton. I am the fellow that Capt. Paul Lamale wrote you about."  And then I remembered.  A 
year ago Paul was based down in the Solomons someplace as a marine Bomber Pilot, a pilot of one of 
those bombers that goes in at 8,000 feet, turns over on its back, and goes into a dive headed directly for 
the target below.  At 2,000 feet, they pull out, and the bomb leaves the bomb rack and proceeds strai- 
ght down to its target.  Anyhow, Lamale saw a letter written by Sutton from the same base and addres- 
sed to Al Teusch at the General Tire here at home.  Paul immediately hunted Sutton up and they beca- 
me friends and spent many hours talking over things back home.  Sutton says that he happed to be rid- 
ing in the bomber right next to Lamale, and they were coming in at 8,000 over Raboul from the ocean.  
He says he happened to be looking from his window as the radio gunner when he saw the wing of La- 
male's plane torn off, and his plane go hurtling down.  He doesn't believe there was a possible chance 
to come out alive, but he says, if there ever was a flier that had everything, Capt. Lamale had it.  He 
was brave but he was careful, and ridden out many a mission previous to this one, but his time had 
come, as Sutton saw it.  Sutton says that he will spend his thirty days furlough and then head back 
across to help finish the job, as he had already put in for foreign service.  I certainly admired the boys 
spirit and his attitude.  Now, I must tell all you grads of Wabash high about this bunch of undersized 
football players that went over to Kokomo and beat their ears down last Friday night.  We didn't have 
any one star.  We had eleven.  It was the first game, and we naturally expected some mistakes, but I 
couldn't see any.  The boys were outweighed about thirty pounds to the man, but how they did fight.  
The score was 13-12, but they were three touchdowns better than Kokomo last Friday night.  This is a 
wild bunch but they are apt to do anything.  Tatum and Eskew were half crazy after the game, and so 
were the players.  Elwood next and boys, here's hoping they repeat.  Sure, I'm going if I have to use 
the fire truck.  You only live once and you might as well live good.  And, of course, they all came to 
Sunday School on S. morning to hear the finer points of the game discussed that Tatum don't know 
about.  I bragged a little on them too, of course.  John Ford just asked me tonight if I wouldn't ask you 
fellows for a couple hundred letters, from which they could print excerpts to print on a page in the P. 
D., in the fund raising campaign for the USO which starts pretty soon.  Write the letter to John if you 
like what the USO is doing in your camps here and abroad.  Don't forget it.  Please.  Here is some 
news.  Pfc. Eugene Young of the South side has just been sighted for bravery, efficiency, etc. etc. by 
Maj. Gen. McClure out in the South Pacific.  Gene has been thru a whole series of campaigns, and 
evidently must be doing a swell job.  Billy Dannacher, Lt. (Jr. Grade) to you navy men, has his picture 
in the paper with some more boys.  Billy as a young doctor is serving on a LST operating in the Eng- 
lish Channel.  Go to it, Billy, you got the stuff.  Lt. H.M. Clevenger writes that he sees Alf Plummer's 
boat every day or so, and has talked with Alf, and they both get a bang from the Bullaton, and while 
they like there work, would much prefer the peace and quiet of good old Wabash.  I am hoping you 
two may meet Joe Delaplane, who also operates a landing craft as you boys do.  On Joe's address, I 
find LST 345.  Does that mean anything.  Today a letter was handed me from Bill Fleshood in which 
he said that while he was in the hospital that Jim Montgomery received his Bullaton, in which Jim read 
of Bill's injury, and Jim immediately started to hunt him up, someplace in the Gilberts or Admiralties, 
and made them both very happy.  Jim Pitts too has been able to get with James Ballard over in New 
Caledonia.  Clo Dohse and Bill Price are both riding bombers out of England, and I am anxious to hear 
from them.  Also from Max Stevens from Biak Island off the northern tip of New Guinea, where he 
rides a Lib as a Navigator.  Some of you Roann boys know John Butcher.  We hate to tell you but he 
was killed in France August 7th.  "Curly," they called him in Roann.  Too bad, and here is good news.  
Big Gilbert Wilson, shot down a couple months ago over Germany, is now a prisoner of War in Ger- 
many.  That is still bad, but much better than it might be.  He is a tough boy and will ride this out.  
Here is a picture just mailed back from Hawaii showing a reunion of bob Alger, Don Colvin and Bob 
Story, who are with the Seabees over there.  They look good.  Remember the two Worrell boys.  Len-  
nes and Billy Dean.  Both have been wounded and are hospitalized in the States, Billy in Key West, 
Florida and Lennes in Washington, D.C.  Will try to get both of them a special letter.  Keep the old 
chin up boys.  Here is something.  Who would ever have thot that Bill Barrett, yes, Ralph's son, would 
have carried off all the track honors in a big Air Field meet in Calif, winning in the Broad Jump, High 
Jump, Hurdles and I don't know what all.  Ralph has busted all the buttons off his vest since this came 
out.  Bill is making the grade as a flier too.  Say, what do you think of this?  I find here that Durward 
Harrold and Eugene Hutchens are both on the USS DOYEN.  Gene is one of my old gang, and now 33 
or 34 years old, married and couple kids, and drafted.  Am glad to add your name to this list Gene.  It's 
been a long time, fellow, since the old days, in fact, twenty years since you sat in on the Hill, but we 
never forget.  Drop me a line when you have time.  Hunt up, Harrold and tell him where you hailed 
from.  He gets this Bull too.  And Johnny Fitzpatrick from Italy.  Your letter was probably the finest 
letter we ever received from anybody among all our 2,000 letters.  I gave the letter to the P.D. and they 
ran it tonight.  Your statements regarding strikes during war time is RIGHT, and 99% of the people in 
Wabash will agree with you.  Too, John, I genuinely appreciate what you say about the Bullaton, its 
influence among your company, etc.  I am glad to help.  Letters, letters, and I must stop.  Had so much 
more to tell you, and I really believe I will have to make this thing bigger, but it is a whale of a job.  If 
I can arrange it, would another sheet be too much?  Let me know.  Goodnight, fellows, and good luck, 
Homer T.   
OCTOBER 3, 1944
     Kiwanians, I sat in three big meetings in Indianapolis last week and actually heard 28 different spe- 
akers, counting the woman from Norway who spoke to us last Tuesday and President Sparks of Wab- 
ash College last Monday night.  I heard everything that was said.  Two of those meetings were not 
partisan, one, the State Kiwanis meeting and the other the C.E.D. meeting on Post War Planning.  The 
last one Friday was a Republican meeting, and of course, it was politics.  BUT, the other meetings 
were addressed by both Republicans and Democrats, all of whom were against the policies and prac- 
tices of the New Deal.  They proved entirely to my satisfaction that this country was not done indust- 
rially, and did not need to be regimented, and that the next twenty years would prove that America has 
only begun industrially, socially, economically, and in every other way, provided the leadership is not 
stifled under the tremendous load of directives coming out of Washington.  Those Democratic and Re- 
publican speakers all made Republican speeches, and that pleased me.  There isn't space here to tell 
you all they said, and this isn't a political paper anyway, but I am glad I vote the Republican ticket.  
Now, John V. wanted me to b sure and tell all you birds to let Frank Rettig known when you can't 
come to K meeting.  The ladies counted on 58 today and only 47 paid for their meals.  The ladies lost 
money, and that won't do.  If you are in town, don't fail to be there.  Ernie Clark talked to the club 
today on  Safety in Industry and it was good.  He's no Patrick Henry, but our guess is that he does his 
job and does it well.  We like him and his family and believe they are an addition to the town.
     Bud Mahaney is going to be the death of me yet.  I asked Bud to write some of his poetry for the 
Bullaton, enough to fill a page, so that we could add a page to the B. and give you more dope.  He said 
he would, but I can't bring myself to adding the extra page on account of the extra work.  I've simply 
got to make a living, and can't spend all my time on getting out this sheet.  But old Bud came thru 
today with three typical poems, and if you can figure out the rhythm, or meter, or whatever they call it, 
you sure got me beat, but I think they are good.  Here are a couple of them, with more coming up next 
Pome #1                                           Pome #2 first Verse                    Second Verse
Well, Homer T—                             The other night                           But then he caught
You've asking me                            A guy got tight                           Another thot,
To throw a little bull                        And friends, to joke a bit-          His face lit up with glee
And, so to speak,                             Did lay him prone                       "If I were dead-"
Help out each week                         Beside a stone                             He slowly said-
To make two pages full.                  In the graveyard out on Stitt.      I WOULDN'T HAVE TO P."
Well, brother, if                               Well, when he woke,                  ***********************
The boys won't biff                         It was no joke,                             See what I mean? If I don't die
My super-porous nose,                    The guy was scared pale green,   laughing, somebody is going to 
I'll take a swing                               The wind did moan,                     kill me for printing his stuff.
At the durned thing                          Round every stone                       Show this work of Art to the
And see just how it goes.                 And shook him up, I mean.         Boys from Oskosk and see if
If these words rhyme                       Not sobered tho,                           they have any poets like Bud
Or fit the time,                                 And thinking slo,                         Mahaney in their home towns.  
That simply will be swell-               These thots did soon arrive-        Of course, Wabash is in a class
But if they don't                               "This grass…these stones           by itself.
Or can't, or won't-                           These trees…these bones
Well, fellows, what the Hell.           YE, GODS, I'M NOT ALIVE."
  All right, fellows everyone how are you tonight? I know how some of you were a couple of weeks 
ago as your letters in every mail tell me so, and I try as best I can to pass your letters on to -?- not only 
in Wabash, but over the State.  The letter received from John Fitzpatrick was so well written and so 
packed full of things in the minds of soldiers-?- combat, that it is being passed around the state now in 
mimeograph form, copied and mailed from the office of the Municipal League in Indianapolis.  Since 
receiving this letter, and giving it the publicity it deserves, here comes a newspaper announcement of 
John winning two separate citations on the Italian front.  The announcement says that John "voluntar- 
ily" assisted litter teams in bringing in the wounded, exposed at all times to artillery and machine gun 
fire, and upon one occasion, when a litter team leader was wounded, assumed command, and with utter 
disregard of his own safety, gave all his attention to the wounded, and brot them in, winning the admir- 
ation of all his comrades."  Our hats, John Fitzpatrick, are off to you.  But, for Heaven's Sake, be as 
careful as you can.  And now, gang, when I make this next announcement, it tears me all up inside. 
Saturday morning at nine o'clock, Jim Neighbors folks received word that Jim had been "killed in act- 
ion in the Pacific."  No further details were given except that it happened Sept. 13th.  Jim enlisted in the 
Navy Air Forces back in 1940, and instructed in Texas until he was shipped out to Hawaii almost a 
year ago.   He did not get into actual combat until sometime in August, and flew a hell Cat, I believe 
they called them from the deck of a carrier.  My guess is that he went down during the action over the 
Philippines.  Jim was a grand fellow, and was everything that a young American should be, smart, cou- 
rageous, ambitious.  It makes us all half sick to think of it, but all the more reason for all of us laying 
plans NOW for no more war.  We won't forget Jim Neighbors, and we grieve with his folks in their 
loss.  Now some different kind of news.  You all know Margaret Watson, Alva's live wire daughter.  
Well, she's married.  A young man named Bob Gallatin from Garrett, Indiana.  I've met him and he 
has my stamp of approval, a very fine young man.  May you kids be happy and not fight more than is 
healthy, and raise a lot of little Gallatins for Grandpa Watson to spend his nickels on in his old age.  
And say, another wedding coming up is Esther Sposeep's, yea, Sam's and Emanuel's kid sister.  She's 
pretty, a blond, and going to marry some Jewish boy from Ft. Wayne.  And mama and I have an invi- 
tation.  Never attended a Jewish wedding, and believe we will have to be there and see how it is done.  
Papa Sposeep says there is plenty of wine, women and song at the reception after the wedding.  I sel- 
dom sing and I don't care for wine, but I think I'll go.  Wish you could be here, Emanuel.  I'll let you 
know how things make out.  S/Sgt Myron Smith of near Lagro has been awarded the Air Medal and 
Oak Leaf Clusters for completing his missions over Italy and France as a Tailgunner on a Fortress.  
Congratulations, Myron.  Paul Glass, by the way is home after two wounds in Tarawa and Saipan.  Has 
had enough experience for a couple lifetimes.  Won't talk much but did say that at Tarawa, he was one 
of just seven out of 244 of group to survive in his group.  We are sure glad you are home, Paul.  Say, 
here is something.  Remember, Gilbert Wilson was shot down over Germany, and later I told you he 
was in a German prison camp. Last Tuesday night he was permitted to broadcast by short wave length 
to his folks, the Tom Christmans, who now live in Goshen.  They didn't hear him but thousands did 
and they had letters from people all over the United States about it.  Says he is well, etc.  We can't get 
the Bullaton thru to the prison camps, but it won't be long now for these boys.  Here's a letter from 
Bob Sheppard.  Has this boy been places.  First his address Sgt. Bob S., 15084309, 1020th A.A.F. Base 
Unit, Atlantic Towers Hotel, Miami Beach, Fl.  Flew to India by way of Africa, worked out of India 
over Burma for months.  He was hospitalized in India a couple times, and wrote me, and now after 
coming from a rest camp, he was shipped back by plane from India thru Australia to San Fran and is 
now in Miami Beach as a physical instructor.  Take it easy, Bob.  You are entitled to all the rest you 
need or want, after all your experiences.  Bob is hungry to hear direct from all his old Wabash friends.  
Now, you have his address, write him.  Especially, you two old pals of his Smiley Enyeart and Bobby 
Miller.  Eugene Young now overseas 32 months should be due for a furlough soon.  How about it, 
Gene?  Jim Pitts and Stew Smallwood are back in the states after two years in New Caledonia.  Jim is 
due in Wabash soon, but Stew is laid up in a hospital out in San Diego.  I will get his address for next 
week as I don't have it here with me.  I wish we could hear from more of you boys who are wounded.  
Just got a letter from Lewis Anderson I can't make out where he is except in a hospital someplace in 
the Pacific.  I sure wish I could see you and talk with you.  What a time we used to have in the old  
Sunday School Class.  This address looks pretty harmless.  I am going to give it to the boys in full, and 
I hope they write you, but don't feel too bad if they don't as these Wabash boys you used to know are 
scattered absolutely all over the world, and in some of the toughest spots.  Remember, Andy, that 
things usually work out.  Keep up your courage.  A young lady from I.U. wrote me about you, that I 
would sure be glad to have writing about me.  You know, boy, dark brown, laughing eyes.  Andy says 
that Fat Harrold is the in the same hospital with him and that Fats brother Duke came off his ship to 
see them.   Here is a letter from Chuck Ravenscroft from England, who says he had the surprise of his 
life while he was on liberty in Tournay, England, when an SP tapped him on the shoulder and it was ---
Jack Smurr.  He says, "imagine Jack Smurr in the police racket."  They are planning their libertys 
together, and are trying to find Bill Fishback, who is on a PT Boat.  Now here is something, Chuck.  
The same mail that I got your letter, I got one from Bill Fishback and he's looking for your, but he 
thinks you've moved on someplace else.  Bill says he just got back from across the channel and was 
tying some rope up on the deck when some guy out on the pier yells, "Hey, you got a fellow that boat 
named Bill Fishback?"  Bill says, "I'm the guy.  Come on up."  So up he came and it was Gilbert 
Smith from Lincolnville who had been on Ron 34 all the time Bill had been in England and he didn't 
know it.  Gilbert read about Bill meeting Chuck in the Bullaton and started out to find Bill.  Yes, boys, 
I guess the old Bullaton does get you together, and that is where I get my big satisfaction from it.  Bill 
the girl, you mention at – Maple Street.  Sure, I know her, and is she some girl. -?- you fellows, if you 
really knew of the absolute loyalty of these Wabash girls -?- and your welfare, you wouldn't even look 
at one of those girls in other countries -?- that may be a little strong.  I'd do some looking myself, but I 
wouldn't do anything about it.  Bill is in Ron 30.  Hey, you younger boys, don't forget we got some 
older fellows plying these waters too.  Alf Plummer, Joe Delaplane and H.M. Clevenger all on landing 
craft, crossing and recrossing the channel every couple days.  Letters here from Jimmie Clark from 
England who sure gets a wallop out of Freddie Vincent's antics.  By the way, Jimmie, Freddie told me 
today that he was going back up to the House of David again tomorrow.  Your poetry was good and if 
possible I will print it next week.  Here's one from Jack Fraustein from Panama.  Taking life easy go- 
ing to picture shows and eating chicken, the lucky devil. Watch those Panama Hatties, Jack.  And how 
about that picture you sent your ma?  The gang wants to know.  And here is one from Clo Dohse, APO 
140, same as Charles Rumple, and Lester Smith.  Clo, don't worry about Duke Bridegroom.  He will 
take care of himself.  You do the same.  Betty is O.K., Clo and getting prettier every day.  Wup, I'm 
out of space gang, good night and GOOD LUCK.  Homer T.   
OCTOBER 17, 1944
     I like to eat.  Way back in High School, when my present wife first proposed to me, I told her, any 
woman who got me would have to be able to cook just a little better than some of the other girls.  So 
she started practicing with a very capable teacher, and while I was learning how to play football down 
at Wabash College, my present mamma was at home learning to cook.  I forgot all the football I every 
knew, but mamma didn't forget how to bake pies and cakes, fry chicken and the like, and among other 
things to fry PANCAKES.  And tonight for supper, we had pancakes.  I put away nine pancakes and 
gained four pounds in weight, and if this Bullaton boggs down after two or three hours, just blame it 
onto mamma.  In Kiwanis we listened to Joe Nixon of Wabash and Peru, tell us about the newspaper 
business.  I liked his talk, abut I really like his newspaper better.  This Plain Dealer-Times Star paper 
we have here is a community builder, which is as it should be.  They intelligently back up every wor- 
thy community enterprise in Wabash, and are responsible for plenty of the success of things in Wab- 
ash.  They cooperate beautifully on everything, and I appreciate it and want Joe to know at least how I 
feel, not that he gives a d--- what I think.  And Wabash is away out in front for a combination of rea- 
sons, and the fine attitude of the local paper is one of the big reasons.  Nice attendance this week.  Glad 
to have Stew Smallwod back with us after a couple years down in the South Pacific.  From rumors I 
heard, I thot Stew was about dead but he looks like a healthy corpse to me.  Everybody turn out next 
Tuesday and don't forget to notify Frank Rettig on Monday if you can't be there.  What food.  
     The big news of the week in Keewanus is the marriage of Leonard Tyner.  And he never asked the 
club a thing about it.  Can't criticize or razz him too much as he bought me off with a cigar.  So we 
wish you luck, Len.  
     Bud Mahaney wrote a poem, all right, but it wasn't up to his usual high caliber, so I am having him 
write another one for next week. This poem lacks the sparkle, the rhythm, and the sentiment of his 
previous efforts.  He must have got ahold of a bottle of grape pop instead of his usual Coke before he 
started.  But he will come thru all right next week.  Here is a story I received thru the mail from an 
insurance man from Dallas, Texas.  I don't believe much in ribbing the President but after all this is 
America, and it is an election year. Of course, being an ardent Republican, I like the story.
      "A committee of admirers of the President was trying to decide where to place a statue of him in 
the Capitol.  They decided it would not do to place it next to Lincoln because he was known as "honest 
Abe."  They also decided it wouldn't do to place it next to Washington because he "never told a lie."  
The committee was very much in a quandary but, after due consideration they decided to place it next 
to Columbus, because:
Columbus did not know where the Hell he was going
Did not know where he was when he got there
Did not know where he had been when he got back
And, he did it all on borrowed money.
"Willie, if your father had a full barrel of rye whiskey and a half barrel of Bourbon whiskey, how 
much whiskey would he have for sale?  Willie did some rapid calculating and replied positively, "One 
hundred gallons."  "Why, Willie," said the teacher.  "That isn't right."  "I know," shrugged Willie, 
"'tain't right, but he gits away with it."
Sailor says, "May I kiss you?"  "May I kiss you?" "Say are you deaf?"
She says:-"No.  Are you paralyzed?"
"Why did you barge into the doctor's office when he was examing your girl friend?  That was an 
awfully crude thing to do."
'Yeah?  I heard her say "Ah" four or five times, and then I heard her say OOOOOOOOh."
     Well, gang, another week has rolled by, and I must say that I don't anymore get one batch of these  
Bullatons mailed out, until I have to write another one.  But I don't mind as long as you birds keep wri- 
ing me letters, slinging that old Bull right back at me, like one boy today.  He said, "I loved that lousy 
sheet when I was back in the States, but out here in New Guinea, Homer, it is the link that ties me with 
the world I used to know."  Statements like that may be exaggerated but they work on old Homer T.  If 
he thinks for a minute he can lighten that load just a little bit that all you boys are carrying now, he is 
willing to keep hammering away week after week until the war is over.  I am absolutely sure that the 
folks back home don't have the remotest idea what you fellows are going thru, and maybe it is a good 
thing.  I know that the folks do respond to the appeals for USO and Red Cross drives.  We have one on 
right now, and the first day, the American Rock Wool came thru with $1,450.00 or an average of $8.50 
per man.  Our quota for the county is $36,000.00 and we will get it.  We have combined the USO, and 
Community Service and Boy Scout drives this year.  Will let you know how it comes out.  Sat in a me- 
eting this evening planning for the big Community Service Halloween party.  Yes, we will have the 
parade over the stage down on Market Street again, and thru the theatre, and in addition we will all go 
out to the City Park and have a dance in the Pavilion.  There will be an orchestra, yes, and we are go- 
ing to have some square dancing too.  Should have a whale of a crowd out there.  I was just wondering 
how many of you boys used to dress up and mask, and mark over the stage.  Do you remember old 
"Pat McGuire," that big Irish paper mache head I used to wear.  Lots of fun in the old days.  And Com- 
munity Service is something we aren't ever going to let die out in this town.  We want you kids to 
grow up in the same atmosphere of good will and good wholesome fun that you boys were raised 
under.  Hats off, fellows to Kenny Yarnelle and Clarence Gaunt, Kiwannians, who, with Paul Lachem 
thought up the commons, on Thorne St., south of Ferry and are going to build a bunch of houses for 
Wabash.  That's fine, and only the beginning, as we need two hundred houses in Wabash.  We all wish 
you the best of luck, fellows.  Now, Warnie Sunday is in town, with the same big grin and as ornery as 
ever.  He is all done at Corpus Christi, and will now go to Florida for two months practice on a carrier 
and then the chances are, Warnie will take off for his trip.  He flies a Gruman Hell Cat, the wickedest 
fighter ship that rides the deck of a carrier.  We all love you Warnie and wish you all kinds of luck.  
Eleanore is with him, and I looked around for a third party, but I guess that will have to wait.  Jack 
Martin is getting fat on Mamma Martins pies and cakes.  Saw him today heading east on Market Street.  
I want to report to you that old Rod Hipskind, darn his hide, has won a medal for exception bravery.  
From the article, it seems that he voluntarily manned a jeep with an anti-aircraft gun in it, and when his 
outfit was being both bombed and straffed, and poured the lead into the straffing planes that two of 
them were knocked out of the air.  Congrats, Rod.  I still have that marvelous letter you wrote me 
sometime ago.  Ride her out boys, you got what it takes.  Boys, remember Lavinia Davidson?  She is a 
mobile Red Cross unit right in the front lines of France, cooking doughnuts one day and delivering 
them to the boys in the foxholes the next.  Fine service, young lady and Wabash is proud of you.  Mark 
Ashley is getting his Red Cross outfit ready to take overseas, and when he called upon the town here 
for some gifts that the boys could take with them, the Club here responded in a big way.  And boys, 
Jim Pitts, just back from two years in New Caledonia, is home and has been MARRIED.  The girl?  
Betty Abbott of Liberty Mills.  One of the prettiest girls in the county.  I talked with her last summer 
and admired the flowers in the yard, but one eye was on the girl.  I didn't know she was Jim Pitts girl.  
Well, good luck, kids.  Letters?  Yes, but not near enough of them.  S/Sgt Virgil Ballard writes from 
Australia who has been in the New Hebrides, and New Guinea and has met boys of the old Jolly Rog- 
ers crew, several of whom knew Charley when he was in New G. Virg hasn't received any mail for ten 
weeks.  One of these days, my boy, you are going to receive a lot of mail.  A young woman told me 
today that when her brother moved from one place to another, he didn't get any mail, and the first mail 
they handed him after a couple months was 8 bullatons.  Let's hear some more Virgil.  I find here Ric- 
hard Lawson, Thurman Maurer and Lorin with that same APO 922.  Maybe you can meet.  Eldon 
Stoops has moved.  Now APO 292 in the Russell Islands, above New Guinea.  Says that Jim Montgo- 
mery and Bill Fleshood are there and he has seen them.  They are in the Navy.  A letter here from 
Charles Woods, with an APO 884, which is a new one on my list.  Charley would like to see anybody 
from Wabash.  Any of you know where that is?  Swell letter, Charley, I like your spirit and your att- 
itude.  Nice letter here from Pfc. Clarence Miler.  You asked about Bob Green.  His address is the same 
as yours except it says, "Headqtrs Co. Bn Div. Special Troops."  Does that tell you anything:  hope you 
find him.  Swell letter here from Bob Stone, of Linlawn, Manchester College fame, who is now in the 
naval Auxiliary Air Station, Boca Chica, Florida.  He is a Chaplain.  Has three youngsters and a nice 
wife who are with him now.  Really getting a workout but Bob loves it.  Say some nice things about 
me and the Bullaton which I appreciate.  Says his brother, Gene, is out in Japanese waters some place 
on a ship.  Well, both you Stone boys, were a bright spot in my life.  And you are a great credit to the 
memory of your father, Paul Stone.  He would want you to do your part.  He was a scrap- per, as well 
as a great teacher and preacher.  Write again, Bob.  Send me a snap shot.  And say, why not a mess of 
snapshots of all you fellows.  Send along any pictures you got.  I put them up on the big board.  Don't 
fail.  Here is a card from Verling Weesner who says the first piece of mail he got when he moved from 
Corscia to France was a Bullaton.  I see the APO 650.  I have two on that number, Richard Phillips and 
Roland Bowman.  Hope you can meet.  Keep your eye peeled from Bill Roggee.  That little Rascal is 
rally in clover somewhere in southern France.  It seems all the girls fall for him.  But be careful, Bill.  
Say Verling, and you too Lew Kretzmeir, who I suppose is now in France, I just see here in the paper 
where the Miller girl who used to work at Sears, and both of you boys were kind of fussing around, 
and who married one of the Custer boys, has a baby.  That's right.  Haven't seen the youngster yet, but 
I will some of these days.  No doubt a very fine baby.  Fine folks.  Give me a letter, Verling.  Here is 
one from Atlee Lawson from APO 322 who sees Bob Campbell every day or so but wants complete 
addresses of Forrest Knotts, Van Horn and Buehler.  Knotts, I find with your APO but the other boys 
you ask for have gone around Weewak and on up.  Satch is on Dick Island with Lee Sarten, Max 
Stevens, and some more.  I'll write you full addresses in a letter Atlee.  You say every- body in your 
outfit knows Homer T.  Yes, they do in Wabash too and is probably one of the reasons I don't get 
along any better. Wabash boys in New Guinea are thick as flies.  A letter from Lt. Robert Tweksbury 
tells me that they had about twelve of them together at one time.  Bill Pearson is a doctor with the 
outfit, and thy carry an APO 38, which was the old National Guard outfit here at home, first at Shelby, 
then the west coast.  Then the Hawaiian Islands and now New Guinea, and when they walk down the 
streets of Tokyo, I can picture big Bill Leach, Jimmy Guenin, Verlin Haupt and the others parading 
down the streets.  Little did I think when I took that picture four years ago, as the boys were leaving 
the Armory, that this thing would last this long, or that I would be following that crowd by mail clear 
around the world.  Here's a letter from Lt. Jim Sailors from France.  Very interesting, and one from 
Sgt. Bob Schmalzried from the McCaw General Hospital Walla Walla, Washington where Bob is 
stationed.  Fine letter.  Tells of the terrible results of the war in the hospital there.   Sure, you come 
back to Wabash at the end of the war.  Homer T.       
NOVEMBER 7, 1944
     Plenty proud we were in this week's meeting when John V. Beamer, our high-powered president, 
showed us the three certificates our club won here in Indiana.  It is very gratifying that our attendance 
holds up like it does, but it should with programs like the one Phil Eskew gave us this week.  He told 
of his many exciting experiences as a basketball referee in 16 years of basketball in Indiana, and he 
was plenty hot.  Phil is a character, has plenty on the ball, a splendid personality and an engaging spe- 
aker.  He's just one more reason why we turn out the kind of boys we do from Wabash High School.  
He suits me fine, and is the kind of teacher I would like to have handle my grandchildren.  We were 
glad Frank Rettig is better and hopes to be back next week.  We miss him, and we sure do miss Kenny 
Yarnelle.  Remember fellows, you don't want to miss without called Frank Rettig's office on Monday, 
or it will cost you just the same as if you ate the meal, and that would be too bad.
     I was talking with Doc Whisler this week over at Bill Myers Barber Shop, and Doc said, "Hey, 
here's a good story for your Bullaton."  "Oh, oh," I says to myself, "Lookout" as some of Doc's stories 
aren't too nice.  But this one wasn't so bad and I decided to run it.  It seems that there were two young 
Bucks who were in the city seeing the sights and made up their minds there were going to see their first 
burlesque show.  Well, they got seats right down in front where they wouldn't miss anything.  The cur- 
tain went up and out dances some super cuties with all kinds of jerks and twists, and they sang and 
danced, and they even trotted out onto a sort of runway they had rigged up right over the boys' heads.  
Then on to the stage came a superlative creature in an evening gown, a blond, tall and languid, undul- 
ating like the original snake in the Garden of Eden, and before the boys' eyes, actually began to dis- 
robe.  First a little cape, then the slender fingers fumbled with the catch on the shoulder strap and off 
came the gown.  The crowd gasped.  Then she removed this and that, and this and that until, well.-she 
finally left the stage in a blaze of glory and a burst of applause, and nothing else much.  One of the 
boys was leaning forward with his mouth open and he happened to think of his chum sitting beside 
him.  He turned to say something, and the other boy was gone.  So the first boy sneaked out to find his 
friend, and sure enough out in front of the theatre stood his buddy, hanging his head.  "What's the mat- 
ter?  What did you leave for?  Didn't you like the show?" his friend asked.  "Uh huh," he said reluct- 
antly, but "my mother told me that if ever I were to look upon a nude woman, that I would turn to 
stone, and-and-well, I just got worried and thot I had better leave."
     Well, I couldn't see any point to the story so I asked him if he knew anything else that might be of 
interest to the boys in the service, and he began to recite this poem, which he memorized while he was 
in college studying anatomy.  He studied anatomy allright in order to be a doctor, but I rather question 
his motives back of his studies.  Anyhow, the poem:-
When every pool in Eden was a mirror
That unto Eve her dainty charms proclaim
She went undraped, without a single fear or thot
That she had need to be ashamed.

Twas only when she had eaten of the apple
That she became inclined to be a prude
And forwith was forced to grapple
With that much debated problem of the nude.

Thereafter, she devoted her attention
Her time, her money to her clothes
And, that was the beginning of convention
And modesty as well, I suppose.

But, Reactions came about in fashions recent
Now, girls conceal so little from the men
It would seem, in the name of all that's decent
Someone ought to pass the apples 'round again.

Editor's Note:-Can't you just hear Doc Whisler recite that little poem?
     Well, gang, this was the night of nights in Wabash that all of you can remember from the time your 
mother stood on the burg on Market Street with you and watched the masqueraders go over the stage.  
Remember?  Sam runway, same stage in fact, same people running the show, Doc Canfield, Frank 
Plummer, Fred Collinge, Lewell Carpenter, Bob Mitten, Owen J. Neighbors, and the same old Cecil 
Mills, who apparently never tires, year after year.  And tonight was a good one.  The weather was not 
to hot nor too cold, and what a mob, with plenty of costumes, some good, some bad, and the High 
School Band, and Walter Dye and Zenno Mallott, and Frank Gurtner with their clubs keeping the 
crowd back, and the kind of a gang of High School rough necks standing right up next to the stage 
booing the announcer, which tonight was myself.  Then the theatre and its prizes, and then everybody 
went on down to the City Park Pavilion for the dancing, both square and round.  And did this thing go 
over big?  Had a good orchestra, and a wonderful crowd, and I sure wish you could have seen it and 
been there.  I saw Johnny Anderson, home on furlough from Miami Beach, and he seemed to be enjo- 
ying himself.  From the stage, it looked like 3,000 people, on the floor and sitting and standing around 
the sides.  Pumpkins, properly carved and lighted, and corn fodder around poles set the ting off right.  
And the floor was as smooth as a school marm's ankle.  Community Service made many more friends 
tonight.  I saw Robt Kessler, the president of Comm. Service sitting out there with a big grin on his 
face.  It was swell, and once more boys, permit me to say, that you are going to like this pavilion when 
you get back.  Now, let's see what else has happened lately.  Yes, here is some bad news.  Herb Ursc- 
hell, who was decorated a couple months ago for bravery with the paratroops in France, and who after 
recovery, again went into action with some glider troops, and was this week reported, "Killed in Act- 
ion."  That is sickening to me.  I knew him well, and liked Herb so much, have seen him fight several 
times, and know he wasn't afraid of the Devil himself, let alone the Nazi's.  Anyway he was killed, 
and we sure regret it.  We won't forget him.  I just now looked at that clock.  The time?  1:16  A.M.  
That's too late for a fellow whose habits are so good that he gets to bed ordinarily about ten o'clock.  
But if I don't get this sheet written tonight, it won't be done this week, and unless you guys are all 
liars, you want to see this Bullaton coming thru.  And after all, if you boys can lay out there in the 
jungles of Saipan, New Guinea, and Guam, France, Italy, and even now the Philippines. I guess I can 
lose a little sleep to try and keep you informed and on the beam about what's what everywhere. 
Here's the news.  Freddie Hoeffer and Ann Cowen are going to be married.  Come on, get up off the 
floor.  That's the truth, on November 11th out in Muskeogee, Okla.  Fred is a handsome young man 
especially in a uniform, and Ann is a beautiful and willful young lady, no doubt.  Anyhow, that's the 
dope.  His address is Pfc. F.C. Hoeffer, 42nd Div. Hdqtrs APO 411, Camp Gruber, Okla. If you want to 
write him about it.  I knew these kids were sweet on each other as I saw them holding hands up on Stitt 
Street this summer.  And say, here is something.  Big Sam Schlemmer, W.H.S. and Manchester Col- 
lege athlete, has been awarded about everything except the Crown itself over in Italy or southern Fra- 
nce, for unusual this and that, and got a big write up thru Associated Press.  It seems he has the ticklish 
job of advancing ahead of an invasion, live with the Germans awhile, and find out a lot of things to 
wireless back to the invaders.  O.K. San old boy, you may be a big shot now, but I still remember how 
you stood out on our front walk when you were two or three years old, and let that little trickle run 
down the sidewalk.  We're proud of you anyway.  Sgt. Fred H. Loy of Lincolnville now receives the D 
Flying Cross, the Air Medal and other insignia for flying over Germany and France in a Bomber.  That 
is swell, young fellow.  Keep up the good work.  Oh, oh.  Here is the first report of a Wabash boy who 
was in on the invasion of the Philippines.  Who?  John Magner.  I have said before that if they did land 
250 thousand men on Leyte, that I would bet we have a hundred changes of address in the next month.  
Let me know as fast as you can just who was in on that push.  I see where the New Guinea bombers 
flew into a field on Leyte.  And on that island furtherest north was Max Stevens, in a B-24, and he was 
probably with them, and Max Derck, who takes care of the bombers.  I also wonder about Satch Bue- 
hler, Harry Bradley and Bill Smith.  Let me know boys.  Here is a letter from Dick Hoover on the 
Dixie out in the Pacific, that tells me that due to the Bullaton, G.N. McVicker found him.  Hardly a day 
passes that a letter doesn't come along telling me how they have met so and so on account of the Bull- 
aton.  Makes me happy, and the K Club here feels that they agree doing a real service.  I feel so guilt 
about making that mistake about Jim and Peggy Durbaugh's baby.  A letter here tells me that someone 
misinformed me, but says Peggy, she wants all the boys to know that she is proud and happy to tell me 
that the date is Dec. `16th and if there is any change in the arrangements, she will let us all know.  Of 
course, Peggy doesn't know that his Bullaton can't have less than twenty-five thousand readers each 
week, and thousands of people (including the ten thousand that live in Wabash) will now think of her 
on that date.  She didn't mention any presents but I perceive they would be acceptable out at 621 23rd 
Street, San Pedro, Calif. And there is no government restrict- ions on the size of the pack- age.  By the 
way, Peggy, my new grandson is getting along fine too.  This one is Billy DuBois, and say, while I 
think of it, Billy's daddy, old Hubert (Ick) is playing on a team in Florida that Daley, of Minn. (I be- 
lieve) and Goldsberg of Pittsburg are on with another All American, and the other day, Hubert got in 
the road of a wild pass, caught or intercepted it, and ran 65 yards for a touch down.  No kidding, that's 
right.  So young Tommy and Billy may hold the limelight someday, especially with that old Showalter 
football blood in them too.   Congrats, Hubert.  Your son, but the way, eats like a horse, and sleeps like 
a log.  'Nother thing, Peggy told about in her letter was that Ding ran into a fellow named Chuck Min- 
or who said he flew with Charley S. in New Guinea last year.   Remember him, Charlie?  Say, too, here 
is a note from Phil Magner, Jr. from Italy who wants any and all Wabash boys that sees one of those 
munition hauling convoys going back and forth to the front in Italy with his outfit's number on it, to 
ask for him.  He is with the 3570th Q.M.  Remember that will you?  What a letter I got here from Bill 
Price, who doesn't mention the fact that he is a radio gunner on a B-24 flying out of England over Ger- 
many right now, but he mentions everything else.  What a boy you are, and what an encouragement 
you are.  England will never the same again after birds like you should them what real pep and init- 
iative is.  Write again when you can.  By the way, Jean Gurtner left today for Purdue U. to study, I 
hope.  I thot you would like to know it as you and Jean used to be pretty thick.  Now, I hear a rumor 
that it is a little dark-haired miss living on North Miami Street.  Right?  Well, she's O.K. too.  What a 
loyal bunch of girls we have here in Wabash.  They laugh, talk and go places, but they won't really be 
happy until you are all back again.  Letters, letters, letters!  The Plain Dealer published Dick Martins 
and Dick Runnels letters and they were good.  Must quit gang.  Am all in anyway.  Pretty nearly three 
o'clock.  Good night gang.  Homer T.  
OCTOBER 24, 1944
     "Kee-wanus, Keewanus, good fellows meet today."  Yep, it's a nice group that meets every Tues- 
day.  Pledged to try and "save" the world, and you all know how far we miss dong it, but we have a lot 
of fun trying.  After all, Keewanus Club is just a lot of boys who have some years on them and they get 
together once a week and try to capture that old youthful enthusiasm and ambition for an hour or so.  
Really, you are a swell bunch of fellows, and right now you are helping to do a fine job.  Went down to 
Terre Haute a couple weeks ago, and they had me on the program for twenty minutes to tell the May- 
ors, Councilmen, City Att'yrs, etc about the Bullaton and incidentally about Wabash.  The chairman 
took ten minutes of my twenty to introduce me, and then I gave them both barrels for forty five min- 
utes, and when we finished waving our arms, reading excerpts of letters, everyone of which mentioned 
the old home town, WABASH, about five times, if you think there was anyone in the room who doe- 
sn't know all about this town and what it is doing, just asks them.  I did my best on the idea of sending 
a sheet similar to ours to all their boys, and from the interest shown during and afterward, I believe 
most of them will try it anyway.   When I finished, an attorney from Peru jumped up, was recognized 
and proceeded to tell them that they started the same thing three months ago, and it was going like 
wildfire.  So we started something.  John V. Wants me to announce that starting next Tuesday, all Kiw- 
anians who are absent, and have not notified Frank Rettig by Monday noon the day before, will be 
charged for their meal anyway.  It is only fair to the ladies to do so.  So watch your step next Tuesday.  
The attendance has been great.  Keep it up.  Sorry to lose Harold Bowman, who is moving back to 
Bluffton as the manager of the Bowling Alley there.  Somehow, I feel that Harold will be back in 
Wabash sometime again in some capacity.  There never was anyone moved into Wabash any more 
public spirited than Harold, and I personally miss him.  He has a barrel of talent and ambition, and I 
would like to see him back, and I know all of you Kiwanians would too. 
     I knew Bud Mahaney would come thru with some poetry, and here it is and it is good.  It is true and 
full of sentiment.  The average kid thinks this old man is hard as nails.  He thinks that because the old 
man frowns and says "No" so much that he is an old grouch, but the fact is that the "old man" is as soft 
as mush.  Dozens of Dads have stopped me to tell me something their boys have done over in Italy, 
New Guinea, or in France, and then he gets choked up and can't say a thing.  Nobody knows how 
much the old man thinks of his boys, except the "old man."  Not for the world would he have the boy 
think there was a soft spot in him, you know how it is, but after all, well, read this little poem and Bud  
about hits the nail on the head.
I san Ott Sawn the other day-                             Ott said "This box goes out today-
You all know Ott real well,                                I'm mailing it to Dean."
(He used to be the Packard man                         T'was then I fully understood
When there were cars to sell)                             The big broad gin I'd seen.
Now Ott's a pleasant sort of guy,                       And then I further realized-
       Tho- on the serious side-                                    (Tho December's months away)
       But, boys the grin he wore that day                    That filling up that package was
       Was eighteen inches wide.                                  Ott Swan's real Christmas Day.
       I know right off he felt real good,                       And Moms and Dads throughout the land-
       (Could tell that by his face)                                 For sweethearts, wives and all,
       And then I spied beneath his arm                        Are having, as they send heir gifts,
       A good sized shipping case.                                Their Christmas in the Fall.
       I said, "Hi, Ott,-you marketing?                          For Christmas just means giving,
       What's in that pasteboard grip?"                         And a box sent far away-
       He smiled some more and said "I'm on              The reaching you a month from now
       My Christmas shopping trip."                             Gave yours folks joy today.
       "I'm lugging this brown box around,
       I've been in every store                                       But the biggest Christmas joy of all
       And some of them had just the things                 (The one this year we'll lack)
       That I've been looking for"                                 Will be that day not far away
       He raised the lid and let me peek,                        When you guys all come back.
       -T'was easy on the eyes-                                      Boy!  That will be a package
       He had ---but if I let it out                                    -That homely, grinning map,-
       I'd spoil someone's surprise.                               That great big hunk of G.I. guy-
                                                                                    For someone to …"unwrap."
            "If you refuse me," he swore, "I'll die."  She refused him.  Sixty seven years later he died.
            Heading in the Lafontaine Herald (Wabash Co.) paper:-  "Thieves at Somerset Take Young 
        Woman's Clothes and Watch While She Bathes."
        Angry Motorist: "Say this darned car won't climb a hill.  You said it was a fine machine."  Herald 
        Talbert (Dodge Dealer): "I said, "On the level, it is a good car."
        Well, gang, all over the world tonight, hang on to your hats, here we go on another weekly tour, lea-  
        ving right now for spots all over this old world.  It used to be "from the Hills of Maine to the West-   
 ern Plains," but now the horizons reach from Tibet to So. America, and from Iceland to the South 
Pacific, and on, across and around every ocean and every sea, and tonight wherever there is water or 
there is land or air, there you will find the fine boys of Wabash doing their share.  We hate war as mu- 
ch as you do, but we are proud you are able to "take it," and "put it out" and how you do it.  Surely 
there is no other country comparable to this one. Spirit, enthusiasm, the joy of living, and yes, loving, 
none cane compare.  We know the score.  No ropes around our necks, or balls tied to our ankles, just 
one big free, freedom-loving country, that is capable of feeding the world, and whipping it if neces- 
sary.  Now, what's happened in Wabash?  Well. Sunday evening, Mamma and I picked up Herman 
Schwartz and his wife, and headed for Ft. Wayne to see Esther Sposeep married to a young Jewish boy 
by the name of Frahm, and boys, it was a beautiful ceremony.  As you know, Esther is a blond, and I 
believe the only blond in the entire audience, and she made a picture in a white silk wedding dress.  
(I'll bet that dress set papa Sposeep back a couple hundred bucks.  And the groom was a fine looking 
young Lieut. Handsome as they make them.  A pair of swell kids, and from what I personally know of 
the history of the Sposeep family, I know how happy their parents must have been.  I wish Emanuel 
who is now in France, could have been there and seen the wedding.  After the wedding a big reception, 
and there was that Herman almost drank more "pop" than he should.  Doc canfield went out after him 
once, and must have felt bad when he found him as Doc's eyes were shining like he might have been 
crying.  Then, too, boys, Mack martin, home on furlough, without asking me a thing about it, up and 
married a young lady from Urbana named Purdy, at the Presby. Church Sunday noon.  Had I known it, 
I would have slipped in but I didn't.  So, Jack, we wish you luck in the new venture.  May all your 
troubles be little ones.  But, wait, I can't spend all my time on Wabash.  Letters here by the handful 
which must be acknowledged, and from every corner of the globe.  Got a letter here from Chuck Gla- 
zier who has been assigned to San Diego.  Chuck is instructing in Judo, and says he is plenty tough.  
Bob Printy of Lagro at the same place.  Would love to hear form Bob.  See if he is getting the B., will 
you Chuck, and we will and it gladly.  Say, Chuck, too, I have been hearing rumors that you too, of all 
people, have fallen in love.  Well, everybody is doing it.  Send usher picture and we will gladly desc- 
ribe the gal to the rest of the world.  Here is a grand letter from Lt. D.L. Cole right from the front lines 
in France.  Cole is with General Patton's 3rd Army with an APO 141 and I do find here that Kedrick 
Brady, one of the Brady twins has the same APO.  He is with the 411 Fighter Sqdrn.  See if you can 
find him.  He's one of the best.  Glad you like the Bull.  Pass it around and don't forget where you are 
from.  E.G. Ridenour on the USS Wyman DE 38 reports that their ship is now flying two bronze stars 
which means two enemy subs.  Swell, boys, and you say you have a surprise for me?  O.K., I'm wai-  
ting.  Probably going to get married when he gets home on leave.  That don't surprise me none.  In 
fact, there ought to be something done about all these buggy cabs, and kiddy cars setting around in 
front of Gacks and Teels.  You don't need to worry about the population of Wabash in fifteen years 
from now.  Every school house in town is going to have to be enlarged.    Here is a nice letter from 
J.W. Cooper (Joe) ARM 1/c Free Gunner, Flight 262 VsB-1, N.A.A.S. Cecil Field, Jacksonville, Fla. 
Where he is taking a refresher course.  Take it easy Joe, as you have done your share over the Pacific, 
and come home when you can.  Thanks for the kind remarks.  No one else in Jacksonville from Wab. 
That I know of.  And George Parks too with an AS in front of it, and then 15345364 2510 AAF Base 
Unit Sec. I Bks 187 Brooks Field, Texas.  George says that he went into a USO and in a register found 
the names of Cpl. Blaine Krom,Pfc George Jolly, Pvt. Martin Overlander and Pvt. Clarence Bowers all 
from Wabash.  George Jolly, now in France, will be glad to know you found that name.  A year ago, 
Jolly was back, came to Sunday School and you were there, remember?  Little did you think-Yes, time 
passes.  And George finally got to France.  Some place, here I have a letter from him.  He is tops.  You 
are too, George Parks.  You should have seen the football team beat Peru last Friday night.  The boys 
were not supposed to win but they did.  Marks, Parks, Wilson and Butterbaugh in the backfield really 
carried the mail that night.  Marks was red hot.  He would not be stopped.  Score 6-0.  Of course, we 
were all happy.  Grand bunch of kids all around.  Young Reynolds got his nose broke on a cleat. You-  
ng Harman played a bag up game at end, both offensively and defensively.  Keep hittin', George, and 
no will handle a B24 better than yourself, unless-of course, it is my kid, Charley.  Charley is still at 
Galveston, getting along swell hauling Navigators on long flights for their training.  And he has time to 
do some oil painting too.  My Bob is so far out in the Aleutians that all he has to do is reach out the 
east window of his shop and shake hands with Tojo himself.  Bob is getting along swell, and I hope 
you get the little radio that I sent you, which is really a present from Perry Cross.  I hope they don't 
mash the thing, it is so tiny, but I know you can fix it no matter what is broken.  Bob, did you know 
Hubert D. is playing football on the Ft. Pierce football team.  Got a picture of him today and it is fine.  
Lornie Williams, you and Bob Curless will be glad to know how old Hubert is getting along.  By the 
way, Bob and Hubert, your respective progeny can surely eat.  About half their meals now are a Gran- 
dpa Showalters and while it is good for the kids, it is hard on Grandpa's grocery bill.  But, that's the 
war for you.  They are a swell pair of kids.  And bob Curless, I want a letter from that ten months old 
son of yours by the name of Louie.  Speak to his mother about it will you?  Bill Milliner?  Don't know 
where he is.  Have sent him 137 Bullatons but he is too lazy or stubborn to write.  Here is a letter from 
Olt. Tom Sundheimer, and one I appreciate very much.  Says he was close to where George Ross is 
layed up in a hospital in England, but he couldn't find which hospital it was.  You are the only APO 94 
I have, Tom.  Tom says the B was among the first mail he received after arriving in England and again 
in France.  Tom's in the 301st Inf.  Going is plenty rough but what it takes, Tom, you got.  Lt. Lornie 
Williams here says to tell all the boys in the P. to keep their eyes peeled for a destroyer, old number 
371, as she comes steaming around the bend.  Max Simons phoned his folks last night from Norfolk.  
Just back from a trip to Jamaica, and he was all excited as usual.  On a DE and did some business on 
the trip.  I can't tell you what, and you are to be congratulated, Max.  Write me, you big stiff.  And Bill 
Price, drop me a line too.  And are you boys at 920 on Biak getting the Bull?  Max Stevens writes that 
he hasn't received a copy since h got there. 
NOVEMBER 14, 1944
     Nice going on the singing today.  Sounded much better probably due to Morris Goverman being 
present from the Rotary Club.  Your harmony was very gratifying.  So was the meal, and so was Miss 
Clark, the nurse, who talked to us about "hearing" among the school children.  Miss Clark suggested a 
worth while project today when she intimated the hearing of some Wabash youngster.  Being slightly 
deaf of course, has some advantages.  I remember hearing Jack Dale tell how Herman Valentine, his 
pardner in the tailoring business, could never hear a collector, but always heard anyone that said he 
wanted to pay.   Today, the attendance was swell.  Frank Rettig back with us counting the noses must 
have helped.  Keep it up.  And, now that the election is over we can settle down to peace and harmony 
again.  Every Kiwanian was expected to vote today, or forever hold his peace.  No more will even the 
most skeptical be able to accuse the editor of the Bullaton of issuing a Republican propaganda sheet at 
the expense of a non-partisan organization.  However, today Billy Rettig, whom everyone knows and 
probably too many love, came in to get some Bullatons to mail, and she told me a cute little story.  In 
the mail this morning came another little witticism so clever that I will run one under the Republican 
Column and the other Democratic.  Here they are: 
Democratic Column
     One G.I. Said to the other, "Did you hear that Hitler had shaved off his mustache?"  "No, why was 
that?" said the other.  "Why de was afraid that someone might mistake him for Thomas Dewey."  
Editors Note:-"The above slander on Tom Dewey was mailed me by Tom Hickey from Kearns, Utah, 
where he is about to be shipped out with a group of Airway Communications boys.  The Hickeys must 
be Democrats.   
Republican Column
     Mrs. Roosevelt was walking down the street one day in Washington, D.C. when she met a little boy 
carrying a basket.  She said, "What do you have in your basket, little boy?"  Promptly he replied, 
"Democrats."  She thot this was so cute that she asked him to stop in the next afternoon with his basket 
and show it to the president.  So sure enough the next day, the little fellow appeared at the White 
House carrying the basket.  She took him in to see the President and said, "Now, little boy, tell the 
president what you have in the basket."  "Republicans," the youngster promptly replied.  "Why 
sonny," she said in surprise, "Yesterday when I asked you what you had in the basket you said, 
"Democrats", whys the change?"  "Well," said the kid, "that was yesterday.  They have their eyes 
opened since."
War Dep't. to the Chalmer Price family ***************K*************
     Willard had been "Killed in Action" on Oct. 6th over Germany.  It stunned everyone as Bill was 
favorite with the whole town.  When the news reached the High School—day afternoon, the student
body was deeply depressed.  This kid was a favorite of some, one of the best I ever knew, and some- 
way, I can't believe this is the end of the story.  There have been mistakes made before, and we are 
hoping this is an error.  I had latter written on Oct. 4th and censored and mailed on October 6th and it 
was a typical Bill Price letter.  It was so personal that I don't believe I should print it here, but Bill 
loved Wabash and everything fine that it stood for, schools, churches, families, and he knew how to 
tell it.  In his first year of medicine at Indiana U., when he was drafted and finally worked up to a Ser- 
geant, Radio Gunner on a B-24, makes it just too bad.    If anything else is heard about, will sure let 
you know.  We have so many other fliers, bombadiers, gunners all over the world, and so many more 
coming on.  Bill Jones, former athlete of WHS and Manchester College, is just three months ahead of 
Joe Yarnelle, heading for pilots commission, and Bill Barrett out west, and the Pulley boys down 
south, and Don Baer, who will be home this week, the folks hope after his Graduation.  And by this 
time, Jack Mathers is transporting troops into France and Germany as a pilot of a transport plane.  Lots 
of boys have been dome during the past week.  Last Sunday morning, a great big 6-3 marine walked in 
and was introduced by his kid brother, and the kid brother was plenty proud of him.  He is a son of the 
High School teacher, Austin Holloway, and has been in the So. Pacific for two years and better, and 
while he has been in on about everything out there, he didn't catch any of the common fevers.  Certain-  
ly looked like a million dollars.  After the game last week, I walked into the Gym and who do you 
suppose I ran into?  Bill Milliner, Ensign Bill, and Rich Yarnelle.  Rich looks more like George all the 
time, except bigger.  Both of them were prize students in my old S.S. Class.  One time in a quiz, I 
asked Rich "What is Genesis?" and he said, a "river" in Egypt, and Bill told me once in answer to a  
question that "Methusaluth was a plaque or disease visited by the Lord, on the Israelites."  The dumb- 
est boys I ever knew to be able to play such good football.  And Fred Sunday was back with his new 
wife, Doris Gurtner Sunday, and she sang Sunday in church.  It was swell.  Fred was looking good too.  
Must tell you about the finish of the football season.  The boys finished by defeating Marion 14-12 and 
were they happy.  Six wins and three loses, and two of the losses should have been wins.  Marks was 
red hot, and Parks, Butterbaugh, and Wilson, with Cowen and Brill, Hartman, Rockwell, Bowman and 
the rest all contributed to the success of the season.  Then Saturday, was the playoff.  Coach Tatum 
told the boys last week that he would walk to Marion in a football suit if they beat Marion.  They beat 
them so Johnny started out Sat. morn at 8 0'clock.  He asked me to meet him in Marion at 2 p.m. and 
bring him home.  And I was there with Frank Gurtner, and Gene Grover, and Jimmy Martin the phot- 
og.  BUT, no more than we had secured the pictures, then a Marion police car with siren wide open 
came tearing down the road and stopped alongside the group of us.  Mahoney and Carpenter were there 
too.  The police had a warrant for Tatum's arrest and despite all our arguments, they arrested and hand- 
cuffed John, and put him in the car and tore into town and to the jail where he was locked up in a cell 
with a crazy man and a colored fellow charges with manslaughter.  It took half an hour to get John out 
of jail and over to the Circuit Court where he was tried.  He was so scared by this time that pleaded 
guilty, and what a time we had getting him out the hands of the law.  He was charged with stealing a 
ball game.  I wish you could see those pictures.  I never felt so sorry for anybody in my life, and it was 
a mean trick on the part of the Marion authorities, but what could I do outside the city limits of Wab- 
ash.  Lice and be bugs really bothered John more than anything else while in jail and Mayor Wert of 
Marion has promised to renovate the place.  Marion was awfully mad after losing that ball game.  Now  
let's see, letters, and some good ones.  A dandy from Harry Forbes from France, who sees Eugene Har- 
ding everyday and shares the Bullaton with him, and Harry says he also ran into Dick Tewksbury in 
Paris with an other fellow and two WACS, and that they were heading for a Red Cross Canteen.  Harry 
makes it plain to me that I needn't worry about the boys in France.  The people are lovely to them, and 
while there are some French girls who are not good, yet there are plenty of nice French girls too, and 
thousands of our boys who much prefer going to a canteen with a WAC and drink chocolate and da- 
nce, than to go out and get liquored up.  That is swell Harry, and just what I want to believe.  Your 
wife is fine.  Talk to her every couple days, and she is O.K. in every way.  I will mail you Jack Mat- 
her's address.  Here is a very good letter from H.F. Shaw, a son of Walter Shaw from Hawaiian Isles, 
who says his bullatons makes the rounds of the Barracks.  That is swell, Harold.  I want all of you to 
pass them around to everybody else.  Wabash will be better known after the war than Chicago if we all 
keep this up.  If you are in a hospital, send it down the line and let the other boys read it, if it will do 
them any good.  I know of ships where it makes the complete rounds of the entire crew from the bot-  
tom to the top.  Don't worry, Charles Haupt, out in Iowa State College, this Bullaton will follow you if 
you will just let us know when you change.  Drop in when you get home.  Letter here from Dick Hoo-
ver, on the Dixie, way out and down under says, he got a real thrill when recently G.N. McVicker wal- 
ked in on him.  They shot the breeze for a spell, and liked it.  Once again, the Bull brot two Wabash 
boys together.  That Pacific is a big ocean, but keep looking for each other.  Here is Ensign Charles 
Pogue from south of Lagro, now out in the Pacific on an LST.  The number, by the way is 748. Reme-  
mber that number, boys.  Funny how you goys remember things like that.  Bob Wolf at APO 84 is in 
England.  Pretty wet and damp, he says.  No other Wabash boys at APO 84, Bob.  Plenty of luck fel- 
low, and we are correcting address.  Nice letter from LaMoine Burkholder from England from APO 
452.  Wow, he's in the glider infantry.  Met his brother Harold twice.  What a thrill that must have 
been.  Correcting your address.  Have you met Charles Hettmansperger yet?  He is also in 154th G. Inf. 
And same APO.  Get together, boys.  I am correcting your address, Moine.  Say, gang I just heard 
George Ross is back in a hospital in New York, improving right along, but has a bad hand.  Would be 
glad to hear from you, George.  Will print your address next week so boys can write you.  Let Coach 
Thom know where you are, please.  And, say, you bowlers.  Here is a letter from Forrest (Ike) Miller 
from France, who laments because he can't find a bowling alley in Paris and because Byron Kennedy, 
his old captain of the bowling never writes him a letter.  Also says he has seen Gay Paree, and he'll 
take Wabash on Sat. night anytime.  His wife is in Calif. Byron, you big so and so, up there in Detroit, 
I am mailing you Ike's address.  Now, write him a letter.  What the H---?  How I would like to hear 
from Jerry Jontry out west there on the Louevering.  Every time I read about the Pac. Fleet, old Jerry 
flashes thru my mind.  What times we had in Wabash.  Write, Jerry.  James L. Smith brother of Geo- 
rge, writes that he has been with little Johnny Cokl, but that Johnny has now left as a radio gunner on a 
dive bomber.  We will put Johnny's name on our list.  He's O.K.  Wait a minute.  Here is something.  
John Routt writes from Treasure Island that he has just returned from 15 months in the Persian Gulf, 
unquestionably the dirtiest place in the world.  Says in all his experience he only saw one Hula Hula 
girl that looked like the ones in the movies.  And that was Virginia in Tonga Tuba.  She is beautiful, 
she has this and that, and all the sailors know her there.  Very high type, he says.  But, John, where the 
devil in Togna Tuba.  I looked all over three maps and I can't find it.  Must be the name of a tavern or 
something.  Also says that Dick Hoover's ship was due into Sidney, Australia the day after he left as a 
whole bunch of Australian girls asked him if he was off the Dixie.  Now, listen, I must warn you boys 
again.  You are a long way from home.  Don't fall into bad hands.  When you get over into Indian and 
Persia, that is too much for me.  I give up.  So goodnight, gang, and be sure and write.  Homer T.      
NOVEMBER 21, 1944
     What a day!  What a day!  Woke up this morning and it was raining, so I turned right over and went 
to sleep again.  But as it does so frequently here in good old Indiana, the Sun broke thru the clouds 
after while and by noon, everything was fine.  What a Kiwanis meeting we had today.  Yea, we enter- 
tained the football team, and of course, (at mealtime), they were all there.  Kind of a scrawny looking 
bunch of fellows, none of them were able to more than half way stand up to be introduced, heir either 
down in their eyes, or all cut off except a little on top, (a G.I. haircut, they call it.)  But they had a lot of 
stuff this season, and won six out of nine starts.  John Tatum and Phil Eskew and Randall Lawson, the 
B.B. coach were with them, and they popped off a little.  Tatum didn't have much to say since his ar- 
rest last week in Marion.  I noticed he kept watching the door for fear some big Cop would come in 
with those handcuffs again.  Boys, that was funny.  I wish you could have seen it.  Then a big hand- 
some Lt. Prentiss Gudgen from the Peru Air Base talked on Athletics in the navy and it was good, very 
good, and the kids liked it.  Three brass hat guests were present.  Capt. Charles Britain, who married 
Herald Talbert's niece, Billy, and who has flown all over the world in troop transportation, only recen- 
tly flying over the hump of India into China, and Warrant Officer "Toady" Clauve, who is due to be 
shipped out again, probably to the Philippines with the Sea Bees; and Sgt. Clara Belle Davis, of WAC 
fame in California, who tells me that she never gets to read the Bullaton first.  She says that over a 
hundred girls fight for that scandal sheet, and she never gets to see it until it about worn out.  But she 
has kept everyone of them, and intends to keep it up so that she can read the story of Wabash at War in 
years to come.  She tells me that one of her pals, a little Jewish girl from Pittsburg, wrote Harold Wolf 
a letter, but she hadn't heard from Harold yet.  Shame on you Harold.  This little Buddy Schwartz, is a 
neat little trick, says Sgt. Davis.  Then Will Urschell gets up and holds up a check for ten bucks that 
Durward Pike, of Akron, Indiana, sent over to him to help defray the expenses of the Bullaton.  Mighty 
nice of your Durward, and we'll keep the ten as we believe you have more of them, and won't miss 
this one too much.  Could tell you lots of stories on Durward Pike.  If there was any way, the U.S. 
Army could get old D.W. Pike into Berlin, he would either talk Hitler into folding up, or more likely 
he would beat him to death.  Well, nice meeting and we meet again next week same time, same place.  
Be there.
     One of our best boosters for the Bullaton in Wabash is Mary Helen Weesner Myers who works for 
the firm of Plummer and Plummer.  Mary Helen, besides her stenographic work, is only raising four 
small children, and yet she always finds time to send out some extra Bullatons, and this time came thru 
with a story by mail.  It is very good and clean so we tell it.  Here it is.
     A grave digger was hard at work opening up a new grave, he carelessly tossed the dirt too close to 
the edge of the grave and it caved in on him, making it impossible to extricate himself.  He called 
loudly for help, and of course, the proverbial drunk was staggering thru the graveyard at even tide 
looked down into the grave, and said, "Say, whassa matter down there?  Whatcher yelling fer?"  "Help.  
Help me out a here I'm cold" came the answer from under the dirt.  "Cold?"  Whereupon the drunk 
took off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, spit on his hands, picked up the shovel and began to shovel 
more dirt down onto the poor man in the grave.  "Of course you're cold.  You hain't got enough dirt on 
top of you yet."
     Mahaney will be back next week with another story set to verse, and I promise you it will be good.
     Wow.  All of a sudden a few minutes ago, it began to thunder and it is raining cats and dogs right 
this minute.  What is this, New Guinea?  Well, boys, the big news of the week is that I received a tele- 
gram this week from Florida from Lt. Warren Fairbanks Sunday, which read, "It's a boy.  He will be 
with you on the hill someday."  I thot, "What the sam-hill" I just saw Eleanore on Wednesday, and I 
must be slippin', as I didn't notice anything unusual, and I pride myself on knowing everything. Any- 
how that's the correct dope.  A fine boy made his initial appearance Saturday and they say it required 
three nurses to handle this kid, he was so tough.  He scratched the face of one nurse, tore up three dia- 
pers, and bawles like a Bull.  Must be some kid.  If he is as dumb and ornery as his daddy, I will send 
him on over to the Presbyterian S.S. where they have a little discipline.  Congratulations anyway, War- 
nie and Eleanore, all Wabash, and our whole fifty thousand readers wish you the best of luck. No more 
had I finished reading this telegram than the phone rang and a young lady said, "Say, Homer T., I just 
been reading what you said about Ding and Peggy Durnbaugh.  Did you hear about us yet?"  "No." I 
said, "What's happened?"  "Nothing yet," she said, "but there will be in the spring."  "What," I said, 
"in the spring?"  "Of course, I've been around some, and I was kind of embarrassed, so I said, "Now 
listen, young lady, this Bullaton is for the Soldiers and Sailors, and not a Better Babies Column."  So I 
won't tell you who or when, but along in April or May, I will let you in on it.  I was pleased though 
that she called me up.  You know the truth of the matter is that we people in Wabash can't forget you 
boys because of falling over these buggy cabs, that clutter up the streets back here.  The other day, I 
went to chuck a little boy under the chin in front of Gackenheimers, and quicker than a cat he bit me.  
"Ouch" I said, "whose kid is that?"  Somebody spoke up and said, "Why that's little Jimmy Guthrie.  
His dad is over on Guam in the Pacific."  "Takes after his old man," I said to myself and walked off.  
After this I chuck the mammas under the chin and not the kids.  Whose home?  Well, this P.M. into my 
office walks Capt. Howard Paulus, and did he look like a million.  He is working in Chemical Warfare.  
Then while he was here, Capt. Charles Britain walked in, and what a pair.  Rather made Herald Talbort 
and myself look a little shabby, especially Herald.  Then last night, away late, I just stepped out of the 
Police Station as a young Air Force Sgt. Walked in, and for Heavens Sake, it was Nolan Stevens, the 
young man who made his home with Arthur Tomson, and who was shot down and interned in Switzer- 
land, for the past year.  He met another Wabash boy, Porter Eltzroth, in Washington. D.C. who had 
been interned in Sweden, and both of them came on home together, looking swell, and feeling very 
happy.  (Pardon me just a minute.  I got to get a bucket and put under a leak in my roof here.  Running 
right thru into the office.  Sure is raining.) Now let's see.  Here are some swell letters from absolutely 
everywhere.  Capt. Bill Sholty, a medic in France, writes from APO 403 that he hasn't seen anyone 
from Wabash and hopes he won't if he has to see them as patients in the hospital but he keeps his eyes 
peeled all the time for the boys of Wabash.  In your same APO I find Frank Finnegan, Jesse Lehman, 
Ike Kendall, James Minear, Max Irwin, Jesse Fingerle and Arthur Ohmart.  Bill, you are 659th Medical 
and Jean Stoops, another medic, is with the 95th Bn APO 339.  I wish you two might meet over there.  
And then come on back to Wabash to practice after the War.  We need more doctors in this rapidly 
growing city.  The picture you sent me is good.  Goes up in my office.  Listen, gang, why didn't more 
of you send me some pictures?  You take them, and I will display them for you.  I have Dick Allen's 
picture here with some New Guinea dwarfs that only come up to his shoulder.  Let's have more pict- 
ures.  Letter from my Bob from Amchitka says the little radio I sent him is the best radio on the island.  
It was so small that I mailed it in a Xmas package and now he hears N.  Y., Chi., San Fran., and all big 
stations, and on the map it looks like it must be 3500 miles from Seattle out there.  You can thank Per- 
ry Cross for that radio, and the Sears repair shop too.  Looking for one now to mail up to Dick Runnels 
on Somechii, close to Attu.  Talked to Verl Curtis this week, just back from Attu, after 14 months.  
Wants the B. from here on.  Say, Frank Alberson, that was a swell letter you mailed back to Leonard 
Tyner.  He appreciated it, and I will mail you Charles Woods address in full.  Have had several fine 
letters from Charles.  His latest APO is 884. Letter from Eddie Ritchee, written Nov. 4th, from some- 
place in the Pac.  Been wondering about you.  Ed says he received 5 Bullatons dating clear back to 
July.  Most welcome.  Says they just returned from the Philippines where "we had quite a time."  Says 
"we were there to support the landing on Leyte, but ended up by taking on the Jap fleet in a good-sized 
sea battle."  Previous to the Philippines, he was in on the taking of Palau Islands.  Feeling swell again, 
he says.  What the devil is a composite Sqdrn?  Is that planes or ships?  You boys will all be interested 
to know exactly where Jim Neighbors was shot down.  Correct information says that he was hit by 
direct hit, in a straffing attack on Negros Island, west of Leyte.  Tough break for Jim, his folks, every- 
body.  Swell letter from Pete Martin.  Has APO 149, same as Dick Tewksbury, Harry Plum, Dwight 
Huff and Harry Forbes.  Member 9th Air Force, Pete, Tewky is with the 44th M.R.N.R. Sqdrn.  Forbes 
is in the offices of 2nd Air Repair Group.  Will give you Clo Dohses full address in a letter.  He, too, 
had been walking the streets of Paris, same as you have.  Get together boys.  Twelve of them met in 
New Guinea recently.  Yes, we're going to have a country club.  It's pretty well set right now, and an 
Air Port or landing field too.  One of the fellows says that so many of the fellows are going to locate in 
Wabash after this War that I am beginning to get worried.  After all, boys, Wabash is just a big country 
town of ten or eleven thousand people that like here and want to make room for more people who want 
to buy homes and raise families of football and basketball players with enough pianists thrown in to 
make life interesting.  You remember that I made a crack about 20,000 people reading the Bull every 
week.  One boy here says I'm crazy.  Says it takes three weeks for his Bullaton to pass thru the ship he 
is on, and everybody reads it from the guy that runs the boiler to the commander.  Says sometimes he 
has three of them going the rounds before the first one gets back.  Another fellow says in his outfit, 
they talk more about Wabash, than they do Chicago.  Now, boys, that's a little strong.  However, the 
latest is that the old taker, U.S.S. Wabash, is putting on a Wabash Queen Contest from about 75 pict- 
ures I am sending them.  All the boys will vote on it, and may the best girl and six attendants win.  
Those boys on the Wabash, none of whom are from Wabash, Indiana are going to elect themselves a 
Queen from our ranks, and from some of these pictures, "Wow."  They will have a hard time picking 
them.  By the way, the ship is on our mailing list, and will be glad to know that the citizens here have 
collected another hundred pounds of gifts for them.  In a recent letter, the commander of the ship tells 
me the boys are crazy about our gifts, which range all the way from razor blades and tooth paste to 
mandolins, and that at Xmas time, they are having a regular celebration with gifts for the whole crew 
of 122 all from the town back in Indiana that adopted them. Wish we could send all of you fellows 
boxes of gifts like that.  Maybe next Xmas you will all be at home sitting round the fire, with plenty of 
Xmas.  Here is a letter from Harry J. Hutchens from 11541 Chiquita St. North Hollywood, Calif.  Wa-  
bash boys who go thru Hollywood have been stopping to see Hutch and Jane who used to be Jane Ste- 
wart a sister of Marjorie, but they want more.  Hutch mentions Bob Printy and Chuck Glazier at San 
Diego.  Wants to hear from them.  Hutch also encloses a note from Capt. Joe Rosbery flying tiger with 
Chenault in India-China last year.  Hutch, I am looking up the article in the Feb. 12th issue of the Sat. 
Eve. Post regarding his crack up in the Himalyas.  You might look up the article in the Feb.  19th Sat. 
Eve. Post, describing Charley S.'s "Strike on Rabaul."  Glad to hear from you too Joe, and hope you do 
land in Wabash sometime.  Now, boys, I'm compelled to stop, and with a handful of letters unansw- 
ered but will try to get the rest of them next week.  Keep up the courage, fellows. Homer T.  
NOVEMBER 28, 1944
     Another nice Keewanus meeting today.  These Presbyterian ladies do know hot to dish out the food, 
and the program was good.  Sounds like Coach Lawson is going to be a valuable asset to the commun- 
ity, doesn't it?  I am sure after looking him over, I don't aim to argue too much with him, and the only 
reason that Milo Meredith spoke up and told that story, was Milo was sure that the Coach would resp- 
pect his grey hair and many, many years.  While Wabash was beat lat week by just one point, all the 
old time critics like Herald Talbert and Harley Gamble agreed that we have the best prospects in years.  
And I agree with them myself.  The boys were a little green in their first game, but watch them step out 
during this season.  Weaver, Rockwell, Cassiday, Longstreth and Gurtner all looked very good with a 
nice lot of second stringers to help carry the freight.  All Kiwanians might as well get interested as this 
sis going to be a fast and furious season.  Manchester playing their fifth game did look good.  They 
may even be tough to crack in March.  We were also mighty glad to have Vaughn Story with us today, 
who spoke fluently of So. America and its possibilities.  Good boy, Vaughn and good luck.  A new 
president was elected today, Ware Wimberly, with Wild bill Delaplane his V.P.  Were Ware will get 
along all right.  Kiwanis has done wonders for him since he first hit in Wabash.  Brot him right out of 
the kinks.  The treasurer, or course, is our one and only Alvah Watson.  Can't trust anybody else with 
the money.  The directors will be Walter Bent, Frank Stephens, Cecil O. Gamble, Eugene Weesner, 
L.R. Addington,  Leewell Carpenter, Paul Hines, Floyd M. Hartman, John Lavelle, Howard H. Hald- 
erman, Wm. H. Talbert, Wilbur E. Ford.  That's the list, fellows, and let's hope next year will be as 
good as this one has been under John V. Beamer.  A couple new members, the two Lewis's father and 
son, who are just coming in now and opening up the Firestone store in the old Tremont Hotel Building.  
Welcome, gentlemen, and try and behave yourselves in Wabash.  Next week is a GRIPE meeting.  
Don't miss it. 
     The headliner today among the stories is the one Milo Meredith told in Kiwanis meeting today, 
which is a little tame, but you soldiers might like it, coming from this old Democrat.  Here 'tis.  There 
was a big heavy set, old lady, lecturing a meeting of men and women on the evils of alcohol, and the 
sin of heavy drinking. She waxed loud and long, waved her arms, grew red in the face with agitation 
and effort, and finally finished with, "You all know that drinking whiskey, will just eat up your insides 
in no time at all."  One big old fat man, who hadn't seen his knees in sixty years got up and said, 
"What?  You mean that drinking whiskey will eat up your insides in a few years?  Why, woman, I am 
86 years old, and I have drunk whiskey all my life, and I will put my stomach up against yours any- 
time."  (Tut, tut, ladies, who shouldn't be reading this sheet anyway, don't blame me for this story.  
Milo Meredith is the one who told it.) 
     The traveling man's eyes bulged out of their sockets when he entered a small general store in a rural 
community and saw a dog seated in a chair, pushing discs about on a board with his front paws.
     "You mean to say," he cried incredulously, "That dog is actually playing checkers."
     "Sure," said the proprietor, "I learned him."
     "Why man, do you know what you've got there," said the salesman. "You could go into vaudeville 
and clean up a fortune with a dog as smart as that."
     "Can't see as he's so blamed smart," sniffed the merchant.  "I beat him the last three games 
Last night I held a lovely hand                                No other hand unto my heart
A hand so soft and neat,                                          Could great solace bring
I thought my heart would burst with joy,                Than the dear hand I held last night-
So wildly did it beat.                                                Four aces and a king.
     The Army cook had just whipped up orders of fried eggs for a hungry mob of soldiers.  Wearied by 
his Herculean efforts, he sat down, yawned, lit a black cigar and wrote a letter to his sweetheart.
     "Darling," he began "for the past three hours shells have been bursting all around me."
     Cheerfulness.  Yes, that is a great attribute in anyone.  I know plenty of men, who dampen the en- 
thusiasm of any crowd when they walk in, and I know others, that make me feel better the minute they 
walk in the door.  Maybe they get a line better than mine, maybe a story they want to tell, or maybe it 
is just them.  Anyhow, I feel better when they have gone.  Take old Duffy McGriff for instance.  I 
know he is handing me a line of Bull when he opens up, but I get a kick out of it anyway.  Since the 
time he called some General who drove in to buy gas; "Sergeant," he is now calling them all "Gen- 
eral."  No more mistakes for Duff.  He tells me now, that the more time passes, the more homesick he 
gets to see the boys.  He is always asking me, "Homer, how much longer do you think this War is 
going to last?"  I can't tell him, and I wish I could.  Too long, I'm sure, if it ends next week.  But here 
is hoping and praying that it will be soon.  Now, let's see.  Oh, oh, here is something.  "Duke" Bride- 
groom married out in San Diego, Cal.  Big story here about it.  The bride, our own little Dorothy 
Fingerle, was dressed in a light blue wool street dress with black accessories and a corsage of pink 
roses.  I'll bet she was a picture.  And the Sgt., work a newly pressed uniform of the United States 
Marines, with a big smile on his face and a yellow Chrysanthemum in his button hole.  Well, Duke, the 
idea of you being married, even to a swell kid like Dorothy, is going to make the boys laugh.  Can't 
you see him boys, coming home nights, sitting around the kitchen fire smoking his pipe, with a couple 
ornery littler kids sitting on his lap asleep.  He has all the ear marks of a family man, and I do admire 
him for picking out a Wabash girl.  Luck to you, boy, but wait till Jack Cross reads this.  Hey, here is 
something else.  A big article in the Ft. Wayne News Sentinel on a football game in Paris, France, 
where the star of the game was---guess who?---why, Dick Tweksbury.  Played before 22,000 people, 
who thot the game was awfully rough.  Congrats, Dick. That old fight, boy, you take after your old 
man, and your brains and agility after your mother.  Go to it.  Keep you eye peeled for Clo Dohse, 
Dick, he is looking for you over there, Dick is with the 9th Air Corps.  His brother, Bob, is over in New 
Guinea, and is getting along fine.  Tells me all about rigging up a generator and producing light to 
stage a big show they put on over there.  Here is a note regarding Dick Allen, who used to be in New 
G., and is now in the Philippines with an APO 72.  And, word has just come to us that John Magner 
was in on that invasion, and spent 13 days and nights in fox holes, but he rode it out without a scratch.  
I don't see how anybody could sleep in muddy water up to your neck, but you rode it out, John, and 
you can do it again.  We're sure for you back home.  Article here in the P.D. says that Don Schneider 
was wounded while a member of the crew of the tugboat, Sonoma, which was sunk during the second 
battle of the Philippines.  A letter since from Don says he is coming along nicely from some burns 
around his ankles.  Hopes to be home soon.  That is swell, fellow.  George Ross is home now after be- 
ing wounded in France.  Haven't seen him yet to talk with him, and will let you hear more later.  Lt. 
Donald Stone has just been awarded the DFC for his missions over France and Germany and had al- 
ready won the coveted Air Medal.  S/Sgt. Earl Ravenscroft also wins the Bronze Star for his service in 
Italy and France.  The Wabash boys are certainly doing their share everywhere.  Here is a note on Lt. 
William "Billy" Baldwin, who is in charge of a small island off the coast of Trinidad.  The island is 
called Tobago, and is supposed to be Robinson Crusoe's island.  Remember that you sailors.  Stop off 
and see Bill.  (Just had word from Muncie, where Eleanore Logan Sunday had hers and Warnies baby, 
that both the mother and the baby are doing fine.  Doris Peters was home Sunday, and told me as she is 
a Cadet nurse over there) Eleanore denies, however, that the baby scratched the nurse, and tore up a 
couple diapers.  Oh, well.   Eleanore, after each feeding don't forget to "burp" the boy, otherwise he 
may throw up all over you.  Another thing---but I must hurry along.  Here is John Mossman's address, 
H. and S. Co. 598th Engr. Bn. Camp Funston, Fort Riley, Kansas.  And boys, here is a good one on 
Hugh E. Smith, which will give him a laugh too.  He writes me from Hawaii to get Francis Vandgr- 
ift's address.  He wants to date "here".  Says he didn't know her back in Wabash but wants to get 
acquainted.  Well, this Francis happens to be man, and he can prove it as he is married to a her and she 
lives back here, in Wabash.  It's all right.  That name Francis is kinda deceiving.  Here is a letter and a 
dandy picture of John Rantz taken in France, with an APO 667.  No others at that APO, John.  You bet 
Indiana went Republican by a hundred thousand, and Wabash County gave Dewey a majority of 4,000.  
Nothing sloppy about this county or state either for that matter.  Better pass this subject now, I guess.  
And here is another picture, taken in Calcutta of Dick Thomas, bob Carpenter and Bob Haag.  Dick has 
been in India for a year now and the other boys 2 years.  Sure glad to get this picture.  I want more of 
them.  Send them along.  Some of them will get into the P.D. and the rest will be put up on the board.  
Here is a welcome letter from Bill Rogge, APO 340.  He is in field Artillery in the 3rd Army in France, 
and by tonight, we hope they are in Germany.  Sure, Bill, I always show Herald Talbert your letters.  
He thinks lots of you.  And you tell the boys in the communications section of Battery A, that it is 
impossible for anyone, even though they be as eloquent as you and I, to describe this seething metro- 
polis of Wabash, the virility of its men or the beauty of its women.  Everything Bill, you say about it is 
true, and I will back you up in any statement you make.  This would be a fine city for them to settle 
down in.  The old slogan, you know now, is "Fifteen-Thousand by 1950."  Bring them all home with 
you, but don't pick out just the Democrats.  Hello, a letter here from S/Sgt Ben Ervin now in Australia 
at APO 921.  Says his group has pulled the longest raids of the war, and sends hi regards to Betty Mc- 
Cune, Don Coburn, Cleotus Dohse, Ed. Ritchee, Eldon Stoops most of whom he knew at Ball State 
several years ago.  Stoops is out at New Cal. And Ed Richee in the Navy just went thru the sea battle at 
Leyte, Clo is in France or England and has several missions in.  Would love to hear from Clo and Don.  
Don, did you get that picture I sent you?  Let me know.  I think the postage was 18 cents.  St-sts Write 
me.  Yes, Ben, strikes in this country just now are bad, very bad, and some day a lot of these strikers 
are going to have to answer a lot of your questions about why they struck when you were needing sup- 
plies.  I would rather be on your side than on theirs when that time comes.  Regardless of anything, 
there should be no strikes now.  Bad enough anytime, but surely not now.  John Fitzpatrick, over in 
Italy or southern France, that letter you wrote regarding the strike at the General hits the nail on the 
head.  I used it again last night at Goshen, and they cheered and stomped when I read your letter to a 
group of 125 men.  Now boys, I got to cut this a little shorter than I have been.  There isn't space eno- 
ugh to address them, and everybody cusses me for it, all the way from Wabash till it reaches you no 
matter where you are.  Now, gang, Goodnight, and when the going gets the roughest, keep your head, 
and beat them to the punch.  The best defense many times is the quickest and best offense.  Write me 
when you can and remember the old town is backing you up.  Homer T.   
DECEMBER 5, 1944
     Well, our gripe meeting today was more or less of a flop.  In a meeting like this one you are supp- 
osed to get up and squawk about things which don't suit you, and not get up and brag.  I will admit this 
has been a good year, with plenty of good programs, and lots of fine fellowship, but it ain't that good.  
If Milo had only been there today, we would have heard some fire works, but he wasn't. Ware Wim- 
berly will make a good president.  Electing him president should assure us of having an eating place 
for the next year.  And the eats are fine.  They may be short on meat, but there always seems to be 
plenty of mashed potatoes and gravy,  Ware tells me that next Tuesday night over at Marion, there is a 
two division meeting and he would like to see several cars of Kiwanians go over to Marion.  Don't 
forget to call Frank Rettig in the event you can't be present on Tuesday noon, or it costs you for the 
meal whether you are present or not. 
     Now, this weeks Art work is furnished by Eugene Young, and he was so insistent that it be put in 
the Bullaton that I couldn't turn him down, especially after he sent me several poems too.  I asked Bud 
M. to write a little poetry to go along with it, and make the stencil, so here it is, for better of for worse.  
Gene is over in New Guinea at APO 716, and I suspect that I better send him a few extra copies of the 
Bull to pass around among his outfit.  And, Gene, don't bring anything like this back with you.

From Frisco to (Censored), according to Gene,
There's a might big difference in things to be seen like a barge.                          
The shapes of the ladies, in different ways
Sure vary a lot as the picture portrays. 
Take the lady from Frisco,-they're small, pert and "set," 
But the farther you go, the bigger they get.
That gal in Noumea,-they're still not too large,
But the bimbo from Suva,--each looks like a barge.
And when you see (censored), those pipe smoking dears,
They've got what resembles old hound dog's ears.
Yep, the farther you get from the old U.S.A.
The rougher the "scenery", the G.I. Boys say.
We like 'em like Frisco,-not too big and neat-
But on all the others, -EGADS.  WHAT BIG FEET!
     Now, you 1,000 traveling secretaries of the Wabash Chamber of Commerce all over the globe, you 
want to know what's cooking in Wabash.  Plenty of everything.  The other day, I stuck my head in the 
door of an office up on the side of the Wabash Street ill, and said, "Hello, what's cooking?" and the 
very good-looking wife of one of you boys on this mailing came right back with, "Chicken, wanta 
neck?"  At my age, it scared me so bad, I pulled the door shut and beat it.  I may go back though.  
Maybe she meant it.  Now, the HIGH SCHOOL BASKET BALL TEAM.  They beat Alex bad last 
Friday night, and looked awfully good.  Those big boys, Rockwell, Gurtner and Weaver were really 
rolling, with Longstreth and Cassiday right on their heels. Wednesday night they travel to Logan to 
play and Friday night to Huntington.  Both these outfits are good, and our boys will have to step, but 
regardless, look out for this outfit before the season is ended.  I will keep you informed, don't worry.  
If it wasn't for you fellows, I probably wouldn't attend the games (?).  I learned after the game that Lt. 
Otto Graham, the crack basketball and football player of Northwestern and now of the No. Carolina 
Preflight, attended the game in company with Beverly Collinge, in whom he is now interested.  No. 
Car. Preflight beat the navy this fall.  I hope he is a nice fellow as this Collinge girl is one swell person, 
whom we admire very much.  I can see those gals down at Indiana and DePauw turn green with jeal- 
ousy when they read this.  Yes, the old Bullaton has quite a following at both institutions, but after this 
weeks cartoon, the house mothers at both places may confiscate it, and report us to the OWI.  Bob Sch- 
malzried, S/Sgt. 39466383, Med. Det. McCaw Gen. Hosp. Walla Walla, Washington, stopped into the 
office and talked things over, wants to open up a business in Wabash after the war is over.  Says he 
could use several Bullatons, as he can't let his get away from the office out into the hospital or he can't 
get it back.  The boys should have some out in the hospital too, so we are going to mail a couple extra, 
Bob. See that they get out into the wards.  Bob married Joyce Summerland and she is with him and 
they live only one block from Lt. Bill Sands, which is nice.  Then yesterday, Jim Daywalt, back from 
118 missions in Liberators and then in Fortresses over France and Germany, as a gunner, was in the 
office and we talked things over.  Jim looks swell.  Plenty luck, as he didn't get a scratch.  Capt. Van 
Horn and Dick Allen are now in the Philippines.  Max Stevens is one of the last of his outfit to leave 
Biak Island for the Philippines.  Max is a Bombardier on a Lib.  The paper here says that another bom-  
bardier who featured in Guadalcanal, Bouganville, over Rebaul, and other spots as he was shipped 
across into New Guinea has been awarded a bunch of Air Medals with bronze stars and Oak Leaved, 
etc.  That's Charley Long.  Good boy, Charley.  Here's a letter from Capt. J.C. Schornick located in 
Gen. Hospital 115 in England who expresses to herald Talbert, his sponsor, his appreciation for the 
Bullaton, and says he recently met Lloyd E. Mason of Lagro, and it was a pleasure for him to hand 
Lloyd a couple copies.  Capt., I am asking Herald to mail you a couple extra copies to pass thru the 
hospital.  Keep your eyes peeled for other Wabash boys.  Bettie McDonald s2/c USNR (W) Barracks 
15-221 Wave Qtrs. D Nebraska and Mass. Ave, Washington D.C. has an injured knee and is layed up 
in the hospital right now.  Drop her a line boys.  Luck to you Johnny Hawley, over in India, John is in 
the Cavalry.  His APO is 497.  No one else there now, John, that I know of.  Will advise.  Say, haven't 
heard a word from Duke Bridegroom since he was married last week.  Come on Duke, let the boys 
know the dope.  They are expecting big things of you.  Bob Printy and chuck Glazier, instructors in 
Judo, out in Cal. Are going to try and get up to see Harry J. Hutchens soon.  I'd hate to try and feed 
that pair, especially Printy.  Speaking of appetites, reminds me that both my second son, Charley, is 
home from Galveston with his good-looking wife, and their handsome little 11 months old son, and at 
the same time my son-in-law Hubert Dubois is at home from Ft. Pierce, Fla.  We were all home at the 
same time except Bob, who has hibernated out on the end of the Aleutian chain, and we all look for- 
ward to the times after the war when we can get together 100%.  I have a goal of 12 grandchildren.  
That givens the kids something to shoot at.  Dorothy is going back with both children to Fla.  Just 
talked to Mrs. Stoops over at the Rock City and she was telling me that Jean Stoops, now a Capt. In 
Med. Corps is located in Belgium.  He is the proud papa of a little girl born in Cincinnati.  That's the 
stuff, Jean.  Wait till we have that big reunion after the War.  Harley Gamble gets a letter here from 
Pvt. Arnold Ervin from APO 24 Philippines.  Says they are knocking the Japs off the island and are 
anxious to get the whole think over with.  Glad you are getting the Bull, and Harley will keep right on 
sending it to you.  By the way, boys, John Gamble is in the Islands over there too.  Don't have his new 
APO yet.  So many Wabash boys moving into that area.  Here is a lovely letter from Lt. Grace David- 
son with an APO 519 in the 158 Gen. Hospital.  Says she loves the Bullaton with its news of names 
and places dear to her.  Mentions the Frank Daugherty's and Billie Osthimer and Teels.  You didn't 
need to introduce yourself.  We all remember you and your sisters.  You girls must have something 
about you above the average.  Your sister Beanie is in the service too, making doughnuts one day and 
serving them to the soldiers in front line trenches the next, and that is something.   We say hats off to 
the Davidson girls.  May you always consider Wabash your own home town.  May we suggest that you 
too, Grace after you have read the Bullaton pass it around thru the hospital.  Just a few laughs from the 
boys, no matter where they're from, makes all our effort so much worthwhile.  Write again, when you 
can.  You must be in southern France as I find Sam Schlemmer, Jack Cross and Max Howard at 512 
and Sherm Gressley and Galen Davenport at 520, and I'm sure they are all in that area.  Hope you can 
see some of  these boys, but not in the hospital.  Russell Wick of the 4th Marines,  who has been in on 
Roi, Namur, Saipan and tinian, writes to thank Homer Hoover for sending him the Bull.  It was a swell 
letter, young fellow, and Homer Hoover appreciated this letter very much.  Keep that old chin up.  Ike 
Kendall, do you think I will ever stop writing this lousy sheet as long as boys in distant places write me 
letters like the one you just wrote me?  It was swell of you.  What a fine attitude.  You like your work 
as a motor mechanic.  You are a s/sgt.  You like the men under you and have a fine group of officers, 
and yet you know it is a dirty business repairing trucks out in the rain and snow, and you want to get 
home.  Why can't everybody at home understand what a tremendous job you boys are doing on the 
front lines?  Anyhow, glad to hear from you.  I find there at the same APO, Frank Finnegan, Jesse 
Lehman, Bill Sholty, James Minear, Max Ervin, Jesse Fingerle and Arthur Ohmart.  Maybe you can 
meet some of this gang.  Nice letter from Harold Burkholder from England.  Has visited his brother 
LaMoine and Chas. Hettmansperger recently.   Swell, Yes, Johnny Fitzpatrick's letter was a master-
piece.  New address, Cpl Hank Hettmansperger Combat Crew Mail Room AAB Sioux City, Iowa.  
Wants to hear from the boys.  Here is a letter from Joe Christle, stationed at an Air Base in England, 
who was approached at a football game by another soldier.  Knew his face but not his name, and when 
they got acquainted found out it was Nick Carlton from Wabash.  The meeting called for a celebration.  
I suppose you boys shot off a few firecrackers?  Nick is a gunner on a B-24.  Will try and get his add- 
ress too.  Letter from Bob Wolff from occupied Germany.  In the Infantry.  Learning to speak German 
with the German civilians.  Says they tell him the war can't last forever, but is a long ways from being 
over.  They may be right, Bob, but we hope they are wrong.  Keep in touch with me.  No one else from 
here at APO 84 that I know of.  Hope your bullatons catch up with you.  Oh, Oh, fellows, my space is 
up and I must quit.  Keep pitchin' and keep writin'.  Homer T.       
JANUARY 1, 1945
     "HAPPY NEW YEAR!"  this is it.  This is the first of the year once more, and very probably the 
most important year in the history of the world.  Important but not very Happy.  We won't be happy 
again until this war is won and our sons are homeward bound once more.  To that end, let us dedicate 
our utmost efforts.  Let's get down to business.  Let's put more push into everything, and instill our 
workers to greater effort and drive ourselves harder than ever.  No one is doing more than half of what 
he can do.  Let's do the other fifty per cent.  Right now, as I write this, I know that over in Belgium 
there are anyhow fifty of our Wabash boys who are battling in the snow and ice for their very lives.  
That first army has taken a terrific pounding, and so have the others, and with them are some of the 
best Wabash boys ever turned out of this town.  Let's not let them down.  Too many people have been 
playing at the job.  Too many workers have just aimed to get in their eight hours, and too many manu- 
facturers have been thinking more of reconversion than they have of the work at hand, which is WIN- 
NING THIS WAR.  Let's turn it on here at the beginning of the year.  And let's not lose Faith in our 
Cause, nor in God.   We will win, but let's not drag it out to the detriment of our men in service no 
matter how much it hurts.  Today Claude Minnear handed me a slip of paper on which he had written 
the results of the Bond Drive.  I am proud to say that with a quota of $1,123, 6000.00 to $1,386,607.00  
That speaks well for Wabash County and the committee.  I am glad to see that the people are now not 
only worried about the War, but they are beginning to get mad.  Maybe pretty soon, we will lay aside 
this political coddling, and get things done.  Kiwanis?  A splendid year, as Cecil Gamble's report today 
indicates, the best in our history, and I say let's make next year still better.  Today in the meeting were 
Fats Herrell, Ralph and Jack Robinson, Bill Barrett, and Capt. Hildebrand, all back home on furloughs, 
and all enjoyed themselves.  Next meeting Ware Wimberly will take over and let's give him plenty of 
     We are the Godfather of a sheet turned out in Goshen, patterned after our own Bullaton, and we  
predict big things for it, as the lions Club have very carefully planned the thing, and are trying to profit 
by our mistakes and our experience.  The first number is a dandy, and it won't be three months until 
the boys of Goshen will be singing the praises of the old home town just like the Wabash boys do.  
And the fellows working on it will get a whale of kick out of doing a good job.  Wait till those letters 
begin to come back to Goshen.  One of their stories particularly struck me.  Goes like this.  "A few 
years ago, a big fat man who must have been eating green apples, was driving down a country road 
about 65 miles per hour.  He suddenly pulled up in front of a farm house, jumped out, and ran puffing 
up on the porch.  A lady answered his knock.  To her he said, "Er-r-r, lady, do you have one of those 
Chic Sales specials behind the house?"  "Yes," she said, "Right around the house, and down behind the 
wood house."  Away he went off the porch and around the house on a gallop.  Before the woman had 
turned away from the door, she heard a loud "Twang-g-g," and the house fairly shook.  "Oh," she said, 
"that clothes line."  She went running out around the house and sure enough there he laid, flat on his 
back.  "Oh, my" she said, "I forgot to tell you about that clothes line."  He looked up weakly and said, 
"It's alright, lady, I wouldn't have made it anyway."  And that reminded me of one I heard that was 
pretty good which made the rounds of the bridge clubs.  A fellow had been having cramps in his sto- 
mach and went into a drug store to get some medicine.  "O.K." the druggist said, "I can fix you up all 
right."  "Now let's see, where is your car?"   "Right in front of the store."  So the druggist poured out a 
liberal supply of the remedy in a bottle.  "Now, how far do you live from town?"  "Five miles," the 
customer said.  "All right." And he poured out some more of the potent stuff.  "Now, do you have a 
gate at home?"  "No." the man said, and the druggist poured in some more.  "Now, how far is it from 
your front fence to the little shanty out back?"  "A hundred and fifty feet," the man said, whereupon 
the druggist added a last couple ounces, and handed the bottle to his customer.  "Now, you stop at the 
fountain there, and take that with a glass of water, and you drive home at exactly forty miles per hour."  
The man did as told, took his medicine, drank the water, and tore out the door.  The druggist didn't see 
him until two weeks later, and asked him how he came out.  "Well," the fellow said, "I have made up 
my mind that you would make a better surveyor than a druggist.  You missed the backhouse by just 
five feet.
The "Wrath of the Gods," you have heard of it?  Well, that is what is going to descend on my head
 when some of my fans read these stories.  Oh well, as Jim Smith from over in Italy says? "Who you 
writing that Bullaton for anyway?"  Now, fellows round the world once more we greet you.  Much 
water has flowed over the dam since last week.  Christmas has come and gone and the kids enjoyed 
themselves in spite of the war.  Especially, since right on top of the last snow, we wake up Christmas 
morning, and the snow is falling like nobodys business.  It snowed all day, and the trees and bushes 
looked swell.  Five or six inches deep again.  That is real winter.  Cecil Mills, the old reliable had the 
Court House lawn fixed up fine.  They told me that Rod Hipskind painted some of these figures while 
he was still at home.  Now he is in Italy, and a letter from Joe Palmer, the old P.D. reporter, this week 
tells me that they now have Rod drawing cartoons for their paper that Joe gets out.  Joe's APO by the 
way is now #46 and his paper is called the Beach Head News.  Joe, did you know that Wally Jones has 
been layed up in a hospital and has your same APO number.  Wonder if you could find him?  When 
you find him, give him my regards and tell him to write.  Here is a card from Sgt. Jim "Gas House" 
Smith from Italy or France from APO 372, wishing the K Club the best for the coming year.  And say, 
boys, Ding Durnbaugh's baby has arrived, a little blackheaded girl, with dimples like Peggy, and it was 
a Christmas present born yesterday in Torrance, Calif.  Let's give Peggy a postcard shower at the 
Army Service Force Hospital, Ward E 6 Los Angeles, Port of Embarkation, Torrance, Calif.  I imagine 
all kinds of presents up to baby carriages would be acceptable to Ding and Peggy.  All kinds of luck, 
you two, and we will let you rest for a while and look around for another "blessed event."  Say, you 
ought to see these prospective mammas duck down an alley when they see me coming.  But I find it 
out anyway.  I know another one but am saving it.  Here is some bad news.  George Simpson is mis- 
sing in action over Germany.  A radio gunner with 28 missions behind him on a B-24, he was about 
ready for a trip home.  This is another jolt and we are all hoping he shows up later in a prison camp.  
He was quite a favorite with lots of you fellows, who will be mighty sorry to hear he ran into trouble.  
Lots of boys are home now.  Howard Herron, back from many months in New Hebrides, is looking 
good.  Said the boys who couldn't think of his name called him "Wabash" because of the Bullaton.  
Charley Daugherty, by the way, was telling me this week that recently he was on a train and young 
soldier came in and sat down.  Had an overseas ribbon on, and as they began to talk, Charley told him 
his home was Wabash, Indiana.  "Wabash," this kid said, "why that's the town where they turn out that 
Bullaton" and then he gave Charley a line that would sink one of our battleships about the Bullaton 
which was received by somebody in his outfit from Wabash, and how it made the rounds.  Then Louis 
Pegg was in the office with his young wife, Clarabelle Akers, whom he had just married here in Wab- 
ash.  Nice girl, and a nice guy.  32 months in the So. Pac.  Deserved a vacation, didn't he?  And a wife 
too, I guess.  Dan Shockey is home from Annapolis, and you should hear him tell of all the things they 
do to a first year man at the Naval School.  Dan is a great boy, in my opinion.  Came up to S.S. Sun- 
day, and got his share of the suckers I always put out up there on Christmas Sunday.  That class is the
roughest and least disciplined since the days of Bill Milliner, Eddie and Rich Yarnelle, and that mob.  I 
should be hearing from the Yarnelles one of these days.  I haven't the details yet, but just heard that 
Jim Guenin has a broken leg over in the Pacific.  I believe most of that old National Guard outfit is 
now in the Philippines.  The two Rhoades boys are out in the Pac. Theatre, on the USS Mayrant  DD 
1402 and the other boy on the USS Frederick Funsten PA89.  Keep your eyes peeled for that ship.  
Another is the Lloyd Acree on which Max Simons is a radar man.  On a DE.  Here is a note that Harry 
Teague is now layed up in a hospital in England.  Gene Stoops has been located in Belgium in a mona- 
stery converted to a hospital.  A young Doctor.  Charley Reed from Wabash is on the USS Blue Jacket.  
I just received a letter from Arthur J. Foster from San Francisco enclosing a clipping regarding the 
sinking of the sister ship of the Wabash, a tanker called the Mississenewa.  Too bad.  The whole town 
here is pulling strong for our adopted ship the "Wabash".  If any of you see it, let me know.  Based, I 
am sure in Honolulu, some of you boys out there might inquire a little.  Would like your report on how 
the boys on the Wabash like our gifts.  Say, and we are all glad that bill Barrett won his wings and was 
graduated Saturday.  Now a Lt.  Came home yesterday looking like a million.  Has a nice girl back in 
Wabash too.  She looked a little sleepy today, I noticed.  So did I for that matter.  Letters and cards 
galore here on my desk.  Virgil Ballard writes from the Philippines, APO 72,  15th ADG, says the go- 
ing is rough, with plenty of visits from the Japs, but "their visits are repaid with love."  Verg will take 
care of himself, and he always lets me know where he is.  Such a swell letter from Bob Watkins from 
APO 921.  I find Ben Ervin of Wabash at the same APO.  Nice letter, Bob.  Card here from Pvt. How- 
ard Haupert, 35169349 Sqd. V 334th AAF Base Unit Florence Army Air Field, Florence, So. Carolina.  
Says he and Charles Wray, another Wabash boy enjoy reading the K. Bull together.  That's fine, How- 
ard.  Will tell Floyd Hartman what you say.  You know if you want to please, your sponsors and my 
self drop them a line or two and let them know you are getting the B.  If you don't like it, or want  
something improved, just say so.  This is your paper.  Give me you experi- ences.  The more you tell 
me, the hotter I make this paper.  They tell me that Ronnie Mallott is back in the states, in a hospital in 
Chicago.  Hope he gets home one of these days.  Some kind of trouble with his hands.  Orville Howard 
writes from Fort Pierce, Florida, and has exactly the same address as my son-in-law, Hubert Dubois, 
Flot 64 Gr 216 Div. 4 ABC 2 ATB, Fort Pierce, Florida.  Get together, boys, get together.  I just won- 
der what kind of Xmas Tommy and Bill Dubois had down at Ft. Pierce without their Grandpa.  Here is 
one from Phillip Mendenhall who is on the USS Enterprise, which sound like a carrier.  He is out in the 
Pacific, hasn't met anyone from Wabash but would like to.  Rem-  ember that ship, fellows.  A card 
here from Don Schneider in the Navy and now in New Caledonia.  R.S. Navy 131, whatever that 
means.  Card here from Ens. H.D. Brubaker LST 1024 out in the Pacific.  Here is one grand letter from 
Capt. Pete Leland who is with the 9th division in Germany.  Says if any of you boys from Wabash hap- 
pen to see that figure 8 with the Golden Arrow running thru it, that that is his outfit, and he would give 
anything to see somebody from Wabash.  He says he got a thrill out of reading in the Stars and Stripes 
where Dick Tweksbury made the touchdown that won for his team in a game in Paris.  Also says he 
has been close to Paul Coomler a couple times, but missed him. Lawrence Leland's APO is #8 in the 
8th QM Company.  Plenty of luck, young fellow.  Here is a nice letter from Jack Ball in the Submarine 
Service in the Pacific.  Jack says like everyone else, he is mighty anxious to get home.  He has seen 
several from Wabash but always looking for more.  Now boys, I'm nearing the end.  It's late, in fact 
12:30 A.M. but I have still have plenty to tell you but it will have to wait till next week.  Keep right on 
the beam, boys, and write me when you can.  Homer T.  
DECEMBER 12, 1944
     Keewanus, Keewanus, good fellow meet toda7y.  That old song rings thru my mind when I see a 
crowd of sixty men sit down to eat, and swap stories and experiences.  Kiwanis, after a period of twe- 
nty years gets under your hide and into your system in a way that is hard to get out.  This noon, we 
heard Parvin Bond, of the White's Manual Labor Institute talk about the work they are doing out there 
and he showed pictures of the boys and girls and their activities.  They are truly doing a wonderful 
work out there and the teachers must get a wonderful lot of satisfaction doing the job.  I say, hats off to 
all of them.  The attendance was good, the visitors were humorous with one soldier today, Howard 
(Biddie) Schmalzried, who came with Dr. Kintner.  We were very glad to have you, Biddie, and come 
when you are home.  Then tonight, the new president, Ware Wimberly, the V.P., Bill Delaplane, and 
the new sec. Vergil Tetrick and myself beat it off to Marion for a two division meeting.  They were 
there from Muncie, Anderson, Portland, Ft. Wayne, and elsewhere, those good old wheelhorses of 
Kiwanis, ready and willing to start off another year with a bang.  Met the old governors and the new 
one, and it was an excellent meeting.  Everybody out for next Tuesday noon.
     Last week, an old veteran of the first World War handed me a story describing the trials and tribu- 
lations of a soldier who went out to help make the world safe for Democracy, and after I read it to the 
club, last week, about twenty of them wanted me to print it in the Bullaton, and here it is.  The art work 
of last week, and the poem by Bud Mahaney about got me in the dog house.  Hence this deviation.
                                           MEMORIES OF 1918
Hello Folks:
     I am one of the fellows who made the world safe for democracy.  What a crazy thing that was.  I 
fought and fought-but I had to go anyway.  I was called in Class "A."  The next time I want to be in 
Class "B."  B here when they go away and B here when they come back.  I remember when I went to 
register.  I went up to the man in charge who was my milkman.  He said, "What's your name?"  "You 
know my name," I said.  He barked, "What's your name."  "August Childs."  Are you alien?"  I said 
"No, I feel fine."  He asked where I was born, and I said, "Pittsburgh."  Then he asked, "When did you 
first see the light of day?"  I said "When my family moved to Philadelphia."  He asked me how old I 
was, and I told him 23-the first of September.  He said, the first of September you will be in France and 
that will be the last of August.  
     The day I went to camp, I guess they didn't think I would live long.  The first fellow I saw wrote on 
my card, "FLYING CORPS."  I went a little further and some fellow said, "Look what the wind blew 
in."  I said wind nothing-the draft is doing it.  On the second morning, they put these clothes on me.  
What an outfit!  As soon as you are in them, you think you can fight anybody. They have two sizes-too 
big and too small.  The pants are so tight I can't move, and what a raincoats they gave me.  I strained 
the rain.  I passed an officer all dressed up with a fancy belt and fancy pants and all that stuff.  He said, 
"Didn't you notice my uniform when you passed?"  I said, "Yes, but what are you kicking about.  
Look what they gave me?"
     Oh, it was nice.  Five degrees below zero one morning, they called us out for an underwear inspec- 
tion.  You talk about scenery-red flannels, BVD's and all kinds.  The union suit I had on would have fit 
Tony Galento.  The Lt. Lined us up, and told us to stand up.  I said, "I'm up sir.  This underwear just 
makes you think I'm sitting down."  He got so mad, he put me digging ditches.  A little while later, he 
passed me by and said, "Don't throw that dirt up here."  I said, "Where am I going to put it?"  he said, 
"Dig another hole and put it in there."
     Three days later, we sailed for France.  Marching down the pier I had more luck.  I had a Sgt. Who 
stuttered, and it took him so long to say "Halt" that 27 of us marched overboard.  They pulled us out, 
and lined us up on the pier, and the Captain came by and said, "Fall in."  I said, "I have just been in, 
     I was on the boat 21 days-seasick 21 days-nothing going down and everything coming up-leaning 
over the rail all the time.  In the middle of one of my leans, the Captain rushed up to me and said, 
"What company are you in?" I said "I'm by myself."  He asked me if the brigadier was up yet.  I said, 
"If I swallowed it, it's up."  Talk about dumb people.  I said to one of the fellows, "I guess we dropped 
anchor," and he replied "No wonder.  I knew they'd lose it.  It's been hanging out over since we left 
New York."
     Well, we landed in France.  We were immediately sent to the front.  After three nights and three 
days in the trenches, the cannons started to roar, and the shells started to pass.  I was shaking with 
patriotism.  I tried to hide behind a tree, but there weren't enough of trees for the officers.  The Captain 
came around and said, 5 o'clock we go over the top.  I said Captain, I'd like to have a furlough."  He 
replied 'Haven't you any red blood in your?"  I said, "Yes, but I don't want to see it."  Five o'clock 
came and we went over the top-10,000 Austrians came at us, and the way they looked at me you'd 
think I was the one who started the war.  Our Captain yelled, "Fire at Will."  But I didn't know any of 
their names, and I guess the fellow behind me thought I was Will, and he fired and shot me.      – A 
     Say, gang, here is something extra, and no extra charge.  The other day Pat Shambaugh stopped me, 
and told me she had something to show me if I wouldn't print it in the Bullaton.  Of course, I promised 
her I wouldn't, but since then I got to thinking it was pretty cute and you boys might like it so I deci- 
ded to run it anyway.  Sorry Pat.  She is the very fine wife of Bob Shambaugh, and helps us every 
week address the Bull.
                           Pome to Homer T.
Every Thursday morning as regular as can be,
Into our office breezes Homer T.
He's loaded down with "Bullatons" 6 foot high,
And a box of addresses for every G.I.

He never knows exactly what mood we're in.
So he always talks fast and then runs like sin.
Hopin' he'll make it before we shout,
"Hey, Homer, we can't get these Bullatons out!"

On Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday too,
We sit around with nothin' to do.
But,. Oh, when Thursday comes 'round each week,
We have letters sto type 'till our typewriters squeak!

So we sit at our machines and peck and peck,
But if it makes "our boys" happy, then what the heck!

This is typical of the fine help we get on the Bullaton around Wabash every week.
     Now, if you like that harrange, gang, and if your old man was a vet of the 1918 fracas, just mail it 
along home to him, and he will et a bang out of it.  This is a whale of a time of night to be writing this 
thing, as the clock struck twelve a good while ago, BUT, when I think of John Hawley and bill Lutz in 
Indiana, Max Stevens taking those long bombing trips in the So. Pac. Or Clo Dohse flying a twin bom- 
ber out of France over Germany, or George Jolly with the tank destroyers in Germany, and Wally Jo- 
nes in a hospital down in So. France, then who am I to fuss about a little lost sleep.  What a night this 
is!  Raining one of those slow drizzles, and not a sound around anyplace, except a couple rats are mak- 
ing whoopee back in the back end of the shack.  Some night,  I am going to put a big cat in the shop 
back here, and see what happens.  Those rats are getting on my nerves.  Now, the news.  Let's see.  
Today, I met Dick Hoover, whom I have told you about out in the So. Pac. On the "Dixie", and with 
him was his good looking brother, Gene Hoover, of the air Corps.  There is a pair of brothers that will 
cause many a palpitating heart before their leave is over.  I know one girl especially, the---well, I better 
not say anything about that.  But these girls tell me all their secrets, and I betray no confidences.  Stop-  
ped in at the Rock City a little while ago, and there was Wayne Kiser and his wife, youngster, and his 
parents.  Wayne has served two hitches now over France and Germany as a gunner on a bomber, and 
has all kinds of citations and decorations.  He don't wear any of these medals, however.  If it was old 
Homer T.  they would probably be pinned on my cap.  Glenn White is back too for a furlough.  Then 
Mrs. Baumbauer, that's Dick's mother, called me up and gave me Dick's temporary APO.  He left 
Topeka as a navigator on a liberator heading east, and of course, that means England.  Good luck, 
Dick.  We are pulling for you back home.  Harold McGinnis just received his commission as a 2nd 
Lieut. In the transportation department of the army air forces, and is driving around Wabash with a big 
grin on his face.  Says the town looks awfully good to him.  Don Baer and the two Pulley boys are in 
the same outfit as Aviation Cadets at Moody Field, Valdosta, Ga.  There are three good boys.  Funny 
how the two Pulley boys stick together.  And also the two Mabee twins, Sam and Bill, both of whom 
are on the Leyte invasion.  Bill had a rib broken in the invasion, but otherwise O.K.  Plenty of luck 
boys.  And say, right now, I want to tell you what a great guy Bill Leach is, as far as I am concerned.  
Yes, he's a sergeant, and plenty tough, but every week I get the New Guinea Cycloner that he mails 
me, and now he sends an ash tray made from a 57 mm shell, with some coins welded on to it to hold 
ashes and cigars.  Then yesterday I got some pictures of the New Guinea men, women and kids, and 
what a sight.  Not enough clothes on to wad a shot gun.  No wonder bob Tewksbury says it is hard to 
get used to.  Why don't some of you other birds limber up a little and send some pictures?  By George, 
here is a picture sent to me by jack Fraustein from Panama.  Is she a knockout?  This gal reclining 
against a palm tree would make Hedy Lamarr or our own Marjorie Stewart look haggard and drawn.  
No wonder Jack isn't anxious to get home.  Nice going, Jack.  Wait till I show this picture to your 
Uncle Russ up at the Fire Station.  This will wake him up.  Howard Herron is back in the states after a 
long service down in the So. Pac.  Here is Warnie Sunday's latest address.  Lt.(Jr,G) Warren G. Sun- 
day, USNR, Lee Field, Box 7B Green Cove Springs, Fla.  Hope the new baby is doing well, Warnie.  
And say, Peggy Durnbaugh, we're remembering that date, Dec. 12th. O.K.?  Let us know right away, 
please.  Dick Logan has just been shipped out of New York as a medic from New York and attached to 
the 263 Inf. Reg.  Write.  Here is a letter I got a bang out of.  My old friend Ray Robinson, the son of 
Sen. Arthur and Mrs. Robinson of Indianapolis.  What a guy.  He was on one of the famous Mexican 
trips put on by H.C. Baldwin agency of Indianapolis, and boys, none of you have anything on this bird.  
I could write a whole Bullaton on this boy's episodes  He should be in the intelligence instead of the 
infantry.  He talks anybodys language.  He talks like the "deep south" when in Mississippi, like a Tex- 
an in Texas, like the Spix in old Mexico, and when we get up into Oklahoma coming back, his conver- 
sation with the Indians was a scream  Ray has been all over France, into Belgium, into Germany, and 
now back in Luxemburg.  Not a scratch so far, but says the Germans are tough.  Plenty of luck, Ray.  I 
always remember you as a real guy, and no mistaking that.  Glad you like the B.  Here's a letter from 
Richard Phillips from APO 650 N.Y. City.  Same address as Verling Weesner had when he was on 
Corsica.  Will send you lee's address.  Where do I get the stories?  Mostly from the Brunswick Club, 
and some from the Women's Clubs, and a few more from the trade papers.  Here's a Xmas card from 
Eddie Drerup.  Eddies with the 559th fighter Grp. In England, which was only ten miles from Jim Day- 
walt, but the boys probably didn't know it.  Now, I am closing and as the clock now says 2 A.M., I 
know about how John Magner felt after 13 days and nights with the Inf. on Leyte.  Give me the dope, 
boys, good or bad, and I will print it.  Keep up your courage, and don't forget to write.  Homer T.   
DECEMBER 26, 1944
     Nice meeting today, even though there were quite a few who didn't get there.  The food s good, the 
singing pretty good, and everybody seemed to enjoy themselves fine.  If you think our attendance has- 
n't been good this year, you want to look at the Chart that Frank Rettig has kept up for the year.  It is 
almost solid.  John Beauchamp has a splendid idea in loading in three or four boys from off the streets 
around town in your can and taking them along when you drive to Marion or some other neighboring 
city to see a basketball game.  Of course you will make friends out of them.  The next opportunity will 
be New Year's Day, when the local H.S. team will take part in a four team tourney at Huntington.  
Peru, Huntington, Ft. Wayne and Wabash will play that day, and may the best team win, for that is 
Wabash this year.  I may be able to get over there that day and take some kids for you if you talk to the 
ration board.  Next week at Kiwanis, the new members will be inducted into membership, and Cecil 
Gamble will give a sort of achievement report for the year.  Howard Halderman will have charge of the 
initiation.  And that means a good time.  So be on hand early.
             SHE'S A LADY
     A lady lecturer, one of the earliest known, came over here from England and during her trip across 
the country she was left behind by her train in a small hamlet.  The only living person around was a 
farmer and she asked about trains, only to find that none would be along until morning, that there were 
no hotels nor even a private home where she could rest the night.
     In desperation she gasped, "But I must sleep somewhere if I stay here all night."
     "If you sleep anywhere tonight in this place you'll have to sleep with the station agent."
     "Sir," she stormed with proper indignation, "I'll have you know that I'm a lady."
     "I supposed you was, ma'am," said the farmer, "and so is the station agent."
             IN STYLE
     A boy who had left the farm and got a job in the city wrote a letter to his brother who stayed on the 
farm, telling him of the joys of city life.  In it he said:  "Thursday we autoed out to the Country Club 
where we golfed until dark, then picnicked and later motored to the beach where we weekended."
     The brother on the farm wrote back:  "Yesterday we buggied to town and baseballed all the 
afternoon.  Today we muled out to the cornfield and gee-hawed until sundown.  Then we suppered and 
piped for awhile.  After that we staircased up to our room and besteaded until the clock fived."
     When the woman motorist was called upon to stop, she asked indignantly, "What do you want with 
     "You were traveling at forty miles an hour," answered the police officer.
     "Forty miles an hour?"  Why I haven't been out an hour," said the woman.
     "Go ahead," said the officer, in despair.
     Now gang, all round the globe, hang on to your hats for here we go.  Last week, I got to popping off 
about the basketball teams and I forgot a couple things I wanted to tell you.  For one thing, it snowed, 
and I mean snowed.  The snow fell until it was about eight inches deep.  Deep, heavy, fluffy snow.  
(When I tell you this, I can hear the boys in New Guinea and the Philippines say, "Boy, wouldn't that 
be swell," and I can hear you boys in the Aleutians, Iceland, Greenland, and even in France, and Italy 
groan because you already have too much snow.)  Anyway, Cecil mills got out four of the old bob- 
sleds, and the kids have really been having a big time.  Never saw this much snow before Xmas in 
Wabash.  Cecil has built his reindeer up on the Court House lawn, and is now working on a real scene 
of shepherds and dogs and sheep, which will look fine when illuminated with flood lights.  Christmas 
trees are beginning to appear inside the houses, but you know as well as I do that this Xmas won't be 
the same with you boys scattered all over the world.  This is the first Xmas for the Showalters when 
some of the kids won't be home.  But, with bob in the Aleutians and Charley in Galveston, Texas, and 
Dorothy in Ft. Pierce, Florida, kids will be scarce around our house.  BUT, boys, what a time we will 
have when they do all get back, and bring along their kids.  And that time will come for all of you.  
Even a war don't last forever.  Now, let's see.  Rex Anderson is home from operating a PT boat in the 
Pacific.  He was in on the Moratai affair, with most his experience ranging from New Guinea and Bink 
Island north to the Philippines.  He looks good, and listen.  He slipped away over the past weekend, 
and married a little girl from Indianapolis.  They are honeymooning down at Turkey Run this week.  
He married Barbara Bogue, whose Dad is a coach at Washington High.  So we congratulate you, Rex, 
and believe me, the boys will be expecting big things from you.  You know this old Bull is always 
getting me into some kind of trouble.  Of course, you have all read about the Bing and Peggy Durn- 
baugh "blessed event."  This week I talked with Ding's mother and she was telling me about Mrs. 
Mitting calling from the Green house and asking which hospital Peggy was in out in California.  "Hos-  
pital?"  Why where did you get that?"  "Yes, she is having a baby, eetc. Etc. and I have an order for a 
dozen roses for her."  Then it develops that good old George Smith read in the K Bullaton where Peg- 
gy was going to have, etc. etc. and he thot he would be nice and wire her a dozen roses.  So now, the 
roses are being held up until we get more news, which will be forthcoming one of these days, we hope.  
And this is something too.  The sailors on that tanker U.S.S. Wabash, out in the Pacific, have already 
begun to write lvo0e letters back here to the girls who sent their pictures to the ship, and the girls are 
thrilled to death.  One of the boys on the ship wrote me for my recommendation on a certain girl, and I 
gave her a big build up.  Lots of fun, and you never can tell what these kids will do.  John Hawley 
writes back from Burma that lately his outfit got hungry, and went p stream to catch some fish.  No 
hooks, no lines, not bait.  So a couple of them went ups stream, and tossed in a couple sticks of TNT.  
The rest of the crowd waded out where it was shallow, and here come the slap happy fish some swim- 
ming crazy, others belly up, and they threw them out on the bank.  One fish weighed 14 pounds, and 
they had a fish fry that lasted five hours.  Over 300 pounds of fish.  John is at APO 218 with 124th 
Cavalry.  Here is a note on Max Stevens who was on Biak Island for a long time.  Now, he is in the 
Philippines with his Liberator.  I wonder about Max Derck, who was also on Biak, and there was Satch 
Buehler too.  And now comes the rumor that the old National Guard is all up on Leyte.  How about 
you Bob Tewksbury?  Got some bad news for you, boys.  Bob Wolff, with the infantry in Germany, 
the son of Rev. Fred Wolff, was killed in action Dec. 1st.  Bob was sure a fine boy, and it makes us just 
sick back here in Wabash to think of it.  All Wabash is sympathetic with the Wolff family who live in 
Lebanon.  Hard to say why these things have to be.  This will shock Dick Runnells, Parker Spinney 
and the rest of his young friends.  News just came back that Junior Vrooman has arrived in New Cale- 
donia.  Carl Strong was with him for a while but has gone on now.  Dr. William Wilson, the 1920 Q.B. 
on the WHS football team was on that island but understand now that he is on the road home.  Philip 
Magner writes home that his mail comes good, and says he get so many bullatons that he thinks I must 
write them twice a week.  No Phil, once a week is enough.  In fact, I am in a dilemma.  People don't 
want to talk about insurance or monuments.  They want to talk about the boys, and the B. etc. and that 
don't make me any money.  Boy, I have here one of the finest letters from Capt. Wilbur Van Horn 
from the Philippines.  I read it to the club, and it should be in the P.D.  Very good.  And I agree with 
you thoroughly.  We hope the boys will find what they want in Wabash, as their ideal town to bu9ild 
their homes and their businesses.  Reminds me that Bill Krider, a marine back from months in the So. 
Pac. Was in S.S. Sunday, and told several people that Wabash was where he wanted to live after the 
war was over.  Bill looked good but was pretty thin after several months with one of the jungle fevers.  
Plenty of luck, Bill.  Good old Bob Hatings, a Major, by the way, landed recently at APO 565, New 
Guinea which is Hollandia, and found there Kenneth Crouch.  What a time they had.  Lee Sarten, who 
spent so much time in New G. spent his furlough here and has now gone again.  Here is a Xmas card 
from M/Sgt. Gordon Owens, who left Wabash for Watervelict, Michigan years ago, and is now in ser- 
vice in Australia.  Write me a letter, Gordon.  Here's a V mail from John Fitzpatrick from Italy.  The 
same to you John.  Dozens of cards from Glen Waite, from Craig Field, Ala.  Fred Clupper, Frank 
Alberson with the SeeBees in the Pac., Jim Smith from Italy or So. France, Dick Tewksbury from 
France.  APO 149, and from Bob Naugle and Barbara (Sims), in which he says, "Dear Homer T.:-" I 
think you have composed the most informative sheet in the world's history.  Barb and I wouldn't miss 
reading it for the world.  Card here from Harold Bowman, now running a bowling Alley back at 
Bluffton, Ind.  Says the B. is their only connection with Wabash.  O.K. folks, we miss you too and 
hope you will be back some day.  Here is one from T/Sgt Clarabelle Davis from Mac Det. IRTC, Camp 
Hood, Texas.  Wants her Bullaton.  O.K. here 'tis.  Pass it around.  When she was home on furlough, 
she told me that 122 girls read the sheet each week.  You boys in the Pacific keep your eyes peeled for 
Jim McVicker on an LSM 208.  Max Simons got to see Bart Smith out in the Pac for just an hour or so 
before Bart started for home.  Will be here one of these days.  Bob Simons is in a tower on some little 
island about 2 miles long and a mile wicde out in the Pac.  Harry Bradley has just written his sponsor, 
Harley Gamble, that he too is at APO 72 which is the Philippines.  Has done a 3 year stretch, and get- 
ting awfully tired of it.  You must be due for a big furlough soon.  Card here from Verling Weesner.  
APO 650.  Have Roland Bowman and Richard Phillips, (Ruskin's boy) at the same APO.  Here is a 
card from Don Emrick from Panama APO 827 out of New Orleans.  Let's have a letter, Don.  Tell 
about those Panama Hatties that Jack Fraustein is always talking about.  Jack, did you get the big Xmas 
letter from Uncle Buss at the fire department:  You should be due for a furlough soon.  Such a swell 
letter from Fred Hinkle from APO 465 India.  He is in the supply end of the thing, and is stationed near 
a large city.  I got to know more about India.  Getting more and more of our boys over there.  Haven't 
heard from Bill Lutz in the Air Forces (Indian-China Wing), for months.  All the boys want to know 
how you are.  And you too Bob Schuler up at Attu in the Aleutians.  Bob Printy, who won't write me, 
(largely, I think, because he can't write) is being shipped out soon.  Bob has been a trainer of Judo in 
San Diego for a couple years.  Now, boys, I can see that I am about all done for this time, but I want a 
lot of letters from you fellows who haven't written me for six months or a year.  Your old Buddies 
want to hear from you, and this is their only method of finding out about you.  So, come on, and let me 
tell them where you are and what you are doing.  And, to you boys in France and Germany, keep up 
the old fight  We are bound to win, and even though it looks bad now, it will come suddenly.  We 
pledge to do our best back home.  Maybe we have been to optimistic since D Day back home, but out 
day is coming before you know it.  Now, I must quit, boys, Goodnight.  Homer T.          
JANUARY 9, 1945
     Once more the generally acknowledged leading service club of Indiana (that's us, gentlemen) got 
off to a brilliant start under the capable gavel of Ware Wimberly, our new president.  The one and only 
Howard Halderman initiated the dew members to the club with appropriate remarks.  John V. Beamer, 
the retiring president, pinned on the 25 year old president's pin, and we are off to the best year in the 
history of Wabash Kiwanis.   Not that we ever accomplish very much, but we always think we are, and 
we are honest about it.  Not since the days of Lawrence Russell, when we shoveled snow, or paid a 
fine, and when we rid the City Dump of all the rats, and we did so well that we hauled rat poison all 
over the county.  I well remember when I delivered two cases of rat poison out to Disko for Lawrence 
and the K club.  I felt kind of silly carrying that rat poison into that store with its red hot stove, and a 
bunch of stool warmers sitting around chewing tobacco and swapping lies.  And when I explained to 
all of them how we were on a campaign to rid the county of rats, I did feel silly, as that crowd literally 
rolled off their stools a laughing.  I didn't stay long.  And that, too, was the year that Lawrence appoin- 
ted J. Kenny to the chairmanship of the Public Affairs committee, and Kenny thot he was supposed to 
meet the big shot speakers that come in from over the state, and instead of that Lawrence had Kenny 
driving up and down the alleys of Wabash locating and condemning backhouses, and Kenny at Xmas 
time, made up a little two holer about a foot high, and presented it to Lawrence, as an expression of his 
appreciation for the honor Lawrence had bestowed upon him.  Yea, I could go on and on, but I won't.  
The main thing is we had a good year in 44 and let's make it better in 45.  Was glad to see the box that 
bill Wright, Harold Talbert and Alvah Watson fixed up for everybody to drop in their checks for the 
Bullaton.  Personally, I'm skeptical about it.  I must tell you that I did have a man stop me on the str- 
eet, pull out a check book, and say, "Who do I make this out to?" "If it's a check, make it out to me," I 
said, "but wait a minute, what is it for?"  "Why the Bullaton you send out.  It's worth $200.00 to me 
for all these boys to get it."  And I said, "Oh, no, thanks just the same, but this is a Kiwanis project and 
we are getting along very well with it."  He said "anytime you need it, come and see me, and the $200 
bucks will be waiting for you," and I thanked him and walked off.  And he don't belong to any service 
club in Wabash.  But that is how outsiders feel about it, and Kiwanians, we are going to try and make it 
better and better for the boys and for the town as the year rolls along.  We will follow the boys from 
their basic or boot training all over this country, and when they leave, we will follow them right into 
the front lines of Germany, or over into India or the Philippines and all over the high seas, and we will 
do it because we love these kids from Wabash, and we want to make things as easy as possible for 
them.  With enough money, the pictures we could take and mail out like we did the K picture last 
Xmas, or the picture of my S.S. class.  What would the boys all give to see pictures, street scenes taken 
around Wabash, people on the street, the high school kids either in town or country.  Well, I got to cut 
this out.  Taking too much space.  No ornery stories today, boys, there is too much news, and those two 
last week were a little strong.  But Kiwanians, turn out and hear a fine program next Tuesday noon.
     Now, wait till I get organized here.  Let's see. What a week this has been.  Xmas all over and then 
comes New Years.  Lots of parties, with all kinds of late hours, and not a drunk for the police court.  
Some say that men have reformed since the war, and others say, they just can't get anything to drink 
anymore.  I'm inclined to think they have reformed but I'm not sure.  Anyway, all went well.  Then 
yesterday, some of us after being urged by John Beauchamp took a load of kids to Huntington to see 
the four way tourney.  Peru, Wabash, Huntington and South Side of Ft. Wayne.  Wabash wasn't quite 
up to standard, although they did beat Huntington in the afternoon.  Then at night they started after So. 
Side and had seven points before So. Side knew the score.  The half way they were tied up, but during 
the half, So. Side decided they would stall us out of the game, and they did, 45-34.  That slow appro- 
ach, and pass the ball around, and finally after our team was half asleep, they would break loose under 
the basket and score.   They were good all right, big and tall, but if they had played basketball instead 
of that monkey business, we would have beat the pants off of them.  Well, we can't win all the time.  
We'll still take the state or come close to it.  Say, what kind of intelligence have we got in the United 
States Army, anyway?  Here is a letter wanting me to explain to his company about why we spell 
bulletin, "BULLATON."  Why you dumb bells from No. Carolina and Texas, do you think a writer 
with the education I have don't know how to spell bulletin.  The reason we spell it Bullaton is because 
it is full of bull, you know, Ton O Bull.  Get it?  Now don't ask me such silly questions again, I'm 
ashamed of you.  Lt. Col. Ralph Lockwood was in town this week, and I had quite a talk with him.  
And he is a real guy.  He was originally assigned to training cadets down close to Atlanta, Georgia, 
which he did very well, and then was assigned to the opening up of the airways across the Pacific for 
transport purposes.  He has flown that Pacific time and time again, and made it sound easy enough that 
I think I will take up flying myself.  He gives all the credit for everything to the "kids" as he calls 
them.  Say, boys, today I met a young lady out at High School and she called me off to one side, and 
showed me a very pretty diamond ring.  Then I got to thinking about what boys might be home right 
now and I just figure that Lt. Bill Barrett must have purchased that sparkler with his first pay check.  
And I don't blame him, as this young woman has plenty of good points. Christian Church girl, too, and 
that is something.  And Bill is handsome like his mother and clever, --- and stubborn, too, I suspect, 
like his dad.  Congrats, kids.  I hope I guessed this right, or I am in a heck of a mess.  Probably am 
anyway.  Tell too much.  Can't help it.  Was talking to your wife tonight Kenny Alger, and she tells me 
that the baby is a tomboy.  Picks up her new dishes, and slams them together, and the pieces fly all 
over the floor.  I told your wife that if she had seen you bowl about three years ago, she might have 
expected this.  Art. Foster, now out in San Fancisco sends me a clipping where the Mississinewa, a 
sister ship of the Wabash, was sunk out in the central Pacific.  Not the Wabash, now, but the Mississ- 
inewa sunk.  Art, we have sent better than 550 pounds of gifts to the Wabash, and they love it.  Wait 
till they get his last batch of pictures that I just mailed out.  Talk about Wabash cuties.  I hated to mail 
them.  Some of the girls are now getting letters from the crew.  No proposals yet, so don't worry.  Ge-  
ne Hoover got an extension and he and Pidge Howard were seen together quite a lot, and Lewis Ander- 
son is back in town and looking good.  In a uniform, that guy is really good looking.  Has a fine face.  
In church Sunday, and with him was Edwina Allen, now of Ft. Wayne.  I must tell you about receiving 
a box of oranges and grapefruit from Mercedes, Texas, from the Mercedes Citrus Company.  Herman 
Schmalzried, formerly of largo is the manager and is the father of a blue-eyed blonde who has been 
filling the eyes of Wabash boys for the last couple summers, while visiting her grandmother.  Herman, 
the deal is on.  We ate the fruit at the K Club last week, and they were great.  What would a box cost us 
like that about every two weeks?  And all had to do was to put you on the mailing list for the Bullaton.  
Hope your club goes thru with the plans.  Now, some letters.  Letters from Charles Durham, who used 
to work at Honeywell's and now out on the Pac.  Changing from one spot to another so fast that his 
Bullatons can't catch up with him.  Says he saw one of the Tetrick boys out there and is looking for 
Francis Vandegrift.  Charley says Mahaney is a better poet that James Whitcomb Riley.  Next week, 
I'll have another Mahaney poem.  Trouble with Bud is that he has to have a certain flavored coke in 
order to be properly inspired, and that flavor has been hard to get lately.  But, we'll see what can be 
done.  Very happy to get a card here from Willie Bizjak from APO 629, which is India someplace.  
Your two sisters were part of the crowd I hauled home last night from the tourney.  Whata swell letter, 
John ford just received from Dock Kits from "Italy, the land of gun fire and beautiful women" as Dock 
puts it.  32 months is a long time overseas, Dock and you deserve a furlough.  Keep writing to your 
sponsors, fellows, the appreciate it.  Harley Gamble just handed me a letter that he received from Harry 
Bradley from APO 72 in the Philippines.  He's with the 808th Engineers.  You should see some of the 
Wabash boys over there, Dick Allen, Max Stevens, Wilbur Van Horn, John Magner, Verg Ballard, Jim 
Ballard, a whole slew of them.  My goodness, Harry says here that he has a daughter thirty months old 
that he has never seen yet.  Been over for three years.  Where is that rotation plan we keep reading 
about?  Well, keep up your courage, and ride it out.  You will be back before you know it.  Harley is 
proud of the letters and pictures you sent him. Incidently, Harley Gamble is some fellow in case you 
don't know him.  Smartest card player I ever saw, and does he love it.  Has other good points too.  
He's hard as nails and soft as mush at the same time.  Here is a letter from "one of the Wabash boys, 
who can't get into the Army" as he puts it.  Harold harden, Ohio Cutting Mormitories, Room D O 1658 
Richmond, California, which is close to San Francisco and Oakland.  Harold wants addresses of Wab-
ash boys in San Fran or vicinity.  Right this minute, I think of Art Foster at 748 N. Ridge Rd, San Fran.  
Why not drop him a letter, and Art will dig you up.  You couldn't lose that old Walrus in the Fiji Is- 
lands.  No kidding, do it, and this Bull goes to a thousand and fifty every week, maybe some of you 
birds close to Richmond, Ca. can look up Harold Harden.  They tell me that Glazier and Printy are 
getting together with Harry J. Hutchens out in Hollywood, Cal.  Also that Printy the old judo instructor 
in San Diego may ship out one of these days.  Would I hate to be the Japs that that boy gets hold of.  I 
well remember the first time he and Coach Thom tangled here in Wabash.  I guess they never get old 
in the wrestling game.  And, boys, I am particularly touched (and imagine me touched) by a letter here 
from Bob Howenstine.  A darned good kid, and working in the a signal tower on an island in the S.W. 
Pac. So close to Max Stevens that he could get to him if he had the time.  Max  has been moved now, 
Bob, up to the Philippines with his Liberators.  Glad you get the Bullaton so regular, and that it means 
so much to a hundred or so of you fellows.  Yes, the name of Wabash will be known around the world, 
and I do know that there have been dozens of boys send copies to their own home towns in an effort to 
get the same thing started, but none of them will ever touch this one, as we have a head start on any- 
body else, although I am doing my dead level best to get other cities to copy after the Bullaton, beca- 
use from experience, and from some 2800 letters I know how much all boys like to hear from their 
own home town.  I wish every city and town would do the same thing, but they won't, for lots of 
reasons.  I wish you could see the paper that the Goshen Lions Club has started up there.  It is swell.  
Well, write again, Bob, your letter was fine.  And here is one from Bill Jones, aviation cadet from 
Pensecola, Fla.  My guess is that Bill Jones will make a Navy flier for them all to pattern after.  Hard, 
fast, smart, aw, well, what's ths use?   You guys in the infantry will never believe anybody in the air is 
any good.  Bill says plenty of his buddies read the B.  Wants to know about Shambaugh.  Well, Bill, 
Shambaugh won his wings, and came home, and he is taking Pat with him from here on.  Pat, gentle 
readers, is Shambaugh's wife, and one of my favorites here in town.  Will send you Jack Courtright's 
address.  I have it here someplace.  Too many of you guys to remember where you all are unless you 
write me.  Boys, I hate to quit, just got started but I must for tonight.  Homer T.  
JANUARY 16, 1945
     Another fine meeting out of the way.  Visitors to the right of us and visitors to the left of us, and 
preachers galore in front of us, we Kiwanians must have offered quite a picture today as we sat at the 
festive board.  Say, this old Christian preacher and writer really had something on the ball, didn't he?  
Born in the heart of Texas, he has roamed far from home in his preaching, and should do his best work 
up here in God's Country.  We hope everybody turns out Friday night to hear Dr. Jones.  The too we 
had Chuck Ravenscroft, one of our sailors, and Jim Schetzle, who just won his wings and is now a 
flight officer in aviation, and too there was an Ensign of the United States Navy.  We are happy that all 
the boys are so pleased with their Bullatons.  The visiting ministers were Rev. Garrison, and Rev. El- 
wood Dunn, of the leading church of the city.  Fire chief Harry S. Ridgeway came as a guest of Dr. 
Kintner.  And, we were all glad to see Lawrence gaunt back again looking hale and hearty after having 
his appendix cut out.  Let's all be back next week for more, what do you say?  Milo Meredith's book 
has been published, and let's hope he has the best luck with it.  Funny thing to me that Milo could 
write a book that is actually non-partisan, but it is.  I have read it, and consider it very fine.  Congrat-  
ulations Milo, and thank you Homer T.  O.K. Milo.              
     Now, I must tell you.  The boys one after the other have been begging for more of Bud Mahaneys 
poetry.  The boys actually like it.  Two letters in one mail brot requests from service men, so I called 
him and asked him to get properly stimulated and belch forth a good verse or two to satisfys the more 
or less depraved appetites of our boys away from home.  So Monday evening at the City Hall, the 
phone rang, and Frank Gurtner the chief called me from the meeting to answer it.  When I walked into 
the police office, I suspected Frank of taking a drink but didn't say anything, and then when I picked 
up the phone I understood.  Bud Mahaney said in his nasal, adenoid tone, "Heh, heh, heh, Homer, you 
wanted a poem.  I got it for you.  Heh, heh, heh."  "O.K.," I said, and I thot to myself at the time, "I'll 
bet this is a dandy."  So I stopped in to pick it up and here it is.  Now, understand, I am printing this 
under protest, and it is only after I read it to Floyd Hartman, John Gividen, Milo Meredith, Jimmie 
Schetzle, and Preacher Martin, that I am tempted to shut my eyes and print it.  Please don't let the lad- 
ies read this, Kiwanians.  Bud is writing this for the soldier boys anyhow.  He says you have to read it 
out loud to get the best effects from it, but read it to yourself.  Here 'tis.
With Old Homer T.'s endurance in this business of insurance,
He is sure to handle every kind of case.
Fire and Theft and wrecks and fenders,-every sort of help he renders,
And he gives you the protection anyplace.
     Now he has a book of prices,-all the virtues and the vices
     Of anything that may a man befall,
     All the rates and definitions, all the finely typed conditions
     Are right there in his office on the wall.
Therein lies a funny story,- an old lady up near "Dory"
Had purchased for herself a wooden limb,
It was special,-seven gaited …all the joints articulalted-
And imported hardwood with a walnut trim.
     Night time it was disconnected and she wanted it protected
     Just in case her house might catch afire-
     So she went to several places to insure this leg and braces,
     But the rates on every call kept getting higher.
Agents stated "Eighty dollars."  "That's too much." The lady hollers
"For a thousand fire protection on the pin,"
Then it was she came to Homer, that old understanding roamer
And explained to him the fix that she was in.
     She declared "I think it funny that it costs so damned much money
     To get some fire insurance on my prop"
     Homer, meanwhile thumbed his rate book, then with that old master sales look
     Said "Your premium will be 15 dollars,-top.
Naturally she was elated and was happy to have waited
Until she talked to homer on the deal,
"They all wanted so much more, why is it your price is lower?"
The lady asked before she made her seal.
     "Well" said Homer, "Here's my "bible" and my company is liable
     For all conditions as set forth,-and so
     Here it says "… a wooden structure with an o'erhead sprinkling fixture
     Gets a rate that naturally is low."
Well she headed homeward happy and our grinning civic "pappy"
Made a profit on the deal,- so it appears
But the one thing that sure missed him, is that that old sprinkling system
Has had practically no pressure for 10 years.
     Now, don't let anybody copy this poem and send it home or they may get the wrong opinion of our 
town.  We really have as nice a people here as any place in the world, but a few of them just "don't 
give a dern."  News?  Boys, I don't know where to begin.  Good news first.  Last Friday night, Everett 
Meyers wife went to the hospital, and in due time, presented Everett with the finest 10 pound baby boy 
you ever saw. And to make it all the better old Everett, in camp in Clayborne, showed up on Sunday 
evening without his wife knowing he was coming.  Everybody is fine, Everett is all smiles, and they 
are naming the big boy, David "Keewanus" Myers.  What a future that boy will have.  And boys and 
gals, listen.  By grapevine, I just learned that Max Simons riding the Lloyd Acree out in the big Paci- 
fic, has purchased a certain young lady, Jo Ann Slegelmilch, a very beautiful diamond ring.  I haven't 
seen it yet, but I will.  Old Max is absolutely O.K. and he has a swell girl in Jo Ann.  We all wish them 
the best of luck.  Say, too, before I forget it, the W.H.S. basketball team beat the pants off Peru, 50 to 
28.  I didn't get to see the game, but it was a dandy.  Watch our boys travel before the season ends.  
This weekend is the County Tourney, with most of the boys betting their cokes on Chester or Lagro.  
We'll see and let you know next week.  Speaking of sports, I just learned that old Hube Dubois of Ma- 
nchester fame, and made still more famous by marrying into the literary Showalter family, was one of 
the Ft. Pierce Football Squad to be presented with a $92.60 Gruen 17 Jewelled wrist watch for playing 
football.  Wow.  Then here is a paper from Ding Durnbaugh from Cal. Showing me his new address, 
and incidentally (?) containing a picture of their football team on which Ding played quarterback this 
fall.  Yes, our boys get around.  Say nothing about this, but they tell me that Dick Bruce gave Miriam 
Boyts a diamond for Xmas.  How these kids do grow up.  Oh, yes, last week in telling you about Bill 
Barrett, I neglected to tell you that Mary Beth Turpen was the girl in the case, and what a girl.  I was 
talking to Grandma Barr---, oh well, let's skip that.  Eddie Yarnelle (Ltjr gr to you has now been tra- 
nsferred to So. America.  L1st Lt Bill Sands is in town from Walla Walla, Washington, and came into 
my office at the same time that Rex Anderson was in here. What yarns the boys told.  Rex, operating a 
PT boat touched New Guinea, Biak Island, and was at Morati.  Some experiences, I would say.  Rex 
was just married a couple weeks ago, and is back now from his honeymoon.  Lt. Dick Baubaer has 
now arrived in Italy on his Liberator.  Bart Smith who was on the USS James Craig, when four Jap 
ships tried to sink it, is back in the states, and will be home soon.  Then Mary Jane Parker Fadel called 
me the other day to tell me that Glenn had called her from Seattle, that he was back after 15 months on 
Amchitka, 63 miles this side of Kiska, which is the same island that my oldest boy is on.  Mary Jane 
was very happy.  Bob is in ordnance up there repairing gun sights, and it's right down his alley.  Char-  
ley is too busy to write, I guess.  I have learned that Capt. Hildebrand is in Galveston too.  Hope you 
meet.  Old Pretzell Myers is back in the states and headed for home.  Good.  Letter here from Derward 
Harrold in which he constantly mentions "Hutch."   At first I couldn't figure who Hutch was until I 
looked at the "USS Doyen" and I knew then it was Gene Hutch- ins, about 33 or 34 years old, wife and 
two kids in the States, who is a cook on the boat.  Derward says he has gained Hutch's friendship and 
picked up 17 pounds.  Bob Printy was in the office this week.  Still a Judo instructor in California with 
Charles Glazier and Bob was telling me something about a widow lady that he knew out there, but I 
better not mention it, I guess.  My Judo is a little rusty, since Coach Thom left Wabash.  Now boys I 
hate to tell you, but we have bad news too, and might as well tell you.  Harold Rudicel was reported 
killed in action on Dec. 19th in France.  A fine letter from one of his buddies came the same day as the 
telegram, and his death came as a real jolt to his comrades, as it did to Wabash.  Swell fellow, and all 
Wabash sympathizes with his folks.  Another death in France last Dec. 2nd was Jimmy Callopy, whom 
everybody at the General and over at the Bowling Alleys especi- ally remember.  Another swell fellow 
with plenty of friends in Wabash.  Pfc. Joe Garner was slightly wounded in Luxembourg on Dec. 24th.  
Tough break Joe.  Keep that old chin up.  I just learned Bob Clark's address in a hospital in France, 
and wrote him last night.  Max Rogers, graduate of Lagro high in '42 was reported lost on the Submar- 
ine Harder in the far Pacific.
[Note: USS Harder (SS-257) sunk by depth charges 24 Aug 1944 off Dasol Bay, Luzon, Philippines, all hands lost]
A postal here from Joe King of Lagro tells me that Joe Jr., Truman Baker, and one of the Tucker
boys as well as an Ashley boy are all with the first army in Germany and 
France.  Letters galore.  One from Freddie Hoeffer from France.  Tell me what town you have been 
thru, Fred and your permanent APO.  Maybe we can steer you into somebody.  Fred says "This army 
has sure made an outdoor man out of me, but when I get out of this army, just let somebody catch me 
outdoors."  No bullatons lately, he says, but they will catch up in time.  Will keep an eye on your wife, 
so don't worry about her.   She will be here when you get back.  A great many young men have found 
out how much they respect and love their wives and families since they have been away.  About a mo- 
nth ago, I mentioned receiving such a nice letter from Roy Cover from APO 80, same spot as Bob 
Clark, Glen Yocum, Roscoe Jackson, which was plenty hot.  In this letter Roy paid such a fine tribute 
to his wife and three little boys, that I am going to send the letter up to his wife in Muskeegan, Mich.  
The P.D. tonight says that he has been wounded and is in a hosp- ital.  I hope I am kept informed on 
which hospital he gets into so that the B. can follow him.  Don't for- get fellows.  Anytime, you change 
your address for any reason let me know.  The best of luck, Roy Cover.  If you knew how anxious we 
back here in Wabash are to be of help to you, whether you are in boot or basic or in a hospital, you wo- 
uld immediately notify us of your change of address.  Letters here from Jimmie McVicker from San 
Diego, Cal., from Duke Bridegroom now Sgt. Robt. Bridegroom US MC Marine Barracks Naval Tor- 
pedo Station Keyport Station, S/Sgt. Ralph Comer in Belgium at APO 469 with airborne troops, good 
old Lew Kretsmeier at APO 635 in England, Jack Fraustein from APO 827 Panama, Wentworth Lewis 
from APO 633 from France, a fine letter of appreciation from the Paul Brembecks from 1808 No East 
St. Victoria, Texas, from Francis Brady  from Tom Hickey, from APO 719.  Spent his first night in a 
fox hole after he landed. Boys, I'm but I must quit and I haven't started yet.  Anyhow 40 letters here 
unanswered, but keep writing fellows.  When you quit, then I have to quit, and this is so big now, it 
must be kept up until the war is over and you are home.  Next week more det- ails, more letters, more 
stories.  Homer T.  
JANUARY 23, 1945
     Well, we're still here doing business at the same old stand, even after that poem we printed last 
week.  No as much criticism as I expected, although I feel a little guilty this week as I meet some of the 
older ladies of the city, who meet me with downcast eyes.  We had a nice meeting today with 54 pre- 
sent and that is a lot of men to sit down at one table.  We had a good time, and Paul Hines gave me a 
story for the Bullaton that I couldn't possibly run, but I did pass it on to a few of the boys, and they 
dressed it up, and laughed their heads off, but I still can't use it.  We were happy today to have as a 
guest Captain Best of the Salvation Army.  There were several other guests from here in town, but we 
didn't write their names down, and we hope they come back sometime.  The attendance is swell.  John 
Beamer is leaving town for a while.  He wouldn't give me any reason for his leaving or where he was 
going or when he was coming back.  He probably has to leave town for some reason or other.  Well, if 
you hit a good spot John, send for me.  I should have left years ago myself.  I noticed this noon that the 
sheriff was giving me the old glass eye.  Well, let's get along.  
     Here is a droll little story that Mrs. Wimberly (bless her heart) handed me that she picked out of 
Ware's pocketbook, while looking for her weekly allowance.  I thot it clever, to the point, and spirited.  
Here 'tis. 
      "A Scotch Presbyterian Minister wanted a little brandy, for medicinal purposes of course.  And so 
he met Elder McTavish on the street, and suggested to McTavish that some of his excellent peach 
brandy would not be unwelcome as a holiday gift.  McTavish said, "Dominie, I'll gi'e it to you, a 
whole quart of the best, if you'll make an announcement of it from the pulpit this comin' Sabbath."  
The minister agreed he would.  So that night a quart of peach brandy was delivered by McTavish.  On 
Sunday morning, among other announcements, the Minister said, "And among other things, I want to 
thank Elder McTavish for the fruit and especially for the spirit in which it was given."
     No bad, Mrs. Wimberly, not bad.
     "Here's where I cut a good figure," said the chorus girl as she sat down on the broken bottle.
       Officer: "Schoenholz, where did you get that black eye?"
Jack: "In the war, Sir."
Officer: "What war?"
Jack: "The boudoir."
Clerk to boss:  "I'll have to have a raise in salary, sir.  Three other companies are after me."
"Oh, is that so!  Who are they?"
Clerk "The light company, the phone company, and the water company.
     A German guard in Denmark was getting tired of his job, "Ach," he says, "I vish de var wass ofter."  
"And," remarked the Dane who was standing near by, "what would you do if the war was over?"  "Vy, 
said the German, "I'd take a bicycle trip thro greater Germany."  "Oh, yes?" retorted the Dane, "And 
what would you do in the afternoon?"
     I've found out the difference between my legs and Betty Grable's-mine just hold me up-her's 
support her.
     Now, young ladies and gentlemen of the Foreign Missionary Society of Wabash, Indiana, and now 
traveling thru distant climes and over rough and tempestuous seas (boys, (I'm on high tonight), repre- 
senting as you are, the finest city in this grand old land of ours, where the flowers are always fragrant, 
where the girls are ever prettier, where the music sounds so much sweeter, where even the city dump 
smells like a flower garden, that's Wabash.  (Boys, when Mahaney reads this, he will turn green with 
envy, and I tremble with fear and trepidation as to what Jerrry Jontry will say) but, things are happen- 
ing so fast that we can hardly keep up with them, even on the radio.  Why only a couple weeks ago, I 
had letters from Bill Leach, Bob Tewksbury, Maurice Penniston, Harry Bradley and they were on New 
Guinea.  All of a sudden, they are surging across Leyte, where I picked up another batch of letters, and 
now, no doubt Virg Ballard, Jim Ballard, john Magner and the rest of that crowd are standing on the 
west band of Mindanao looking west across the China Sea.  Think of shelling the china coast.  And old 
Jerry Jontry, the old maestro is right with them, and so are dozens of other boys from Wabash.  News 
breaks fast, too fast for me.  Yesterday, Joe Cooper, that sly devil, sat here in my office for an hour and 
gave me the old Bull, etc., and after he left, they bring in the evening paper and right there in the paper 
it says "Betty Chamberlain and Joe Cooper are united in marriage" in a "Quiet" wedding.  It must have 
been quiet.  Never knew a thing about it till I read it in the P.D.  Anyhow, Betty left Sunday evening 
for Washington, D.C. where she is in the Waves, and on our mailing list.  Betty you pretty little rascal, 
why didn't you tell me something about this?  Wait till I see Joe.  Anyhow, they are both grand kids 
and we wish them the best of luck in all respects.  Now. Basketball.  Wabash plays Marion tomorrow 
night, and this will be the first game since the holidays, and we are hoping.  I wasn't intending to go 
but I find I have some business to attend to in Marion tomorrow night, and if I have time, I will try to 
get in and see the last quarter.  Last week-end the one and only county tourney brought into Wabash a 
lot of tractor gasoline coupons, as I never saw more automobiles in my life.  Just a mass of seething, 
yelling kids.  This old basketball madness does possess Indiana.  And boys, Chester won it over Lagro, 
but Lagro was not quite up to par and Chester was hot as a pistol after twenty seven rounds, score 46-
25.  Many outstanding players but of them all, Frieden of Chester, Whitesel of Somerset, and Koehler 
of largo stood out especially. Fred Sunday and his beautiful wife, the former Doris Gurtner, was home 
this past week from Oklahoma City, and says it looks like he was going to be shipped out again, this 
time probably on the B29.  Bob Printy of wrestling fame breezed into the office here Saturday all full 
of steam and big talk, and incidentally mentioned a certain widow out in Calif.  Now, Harry Williams, 
the big stock and truck man of Lagro tells me that the scuttle butte has it around Lagro, that wily old 
Bob is already married to the lovely widow.  Coach Thom will get a kick out this.  Can you imagine 
Printy being married, Coach:  Grapevine has it that Jim Ballard is now on Palau Island, and we under- 
stand that Wade Campbell, the oldest boy of old Curly Campbell and Wilbur Van Horn, have met in 
the Philippines.  Nothing please me as much as to know you boys are meeting each other from Wab- 
ash, and I want to know it every time any of you meet in these distant places.  Ensign Homer Cleven- 
ger, who operated a LST boat along side of Joe Delaplane and Alf Plummer across the English Chan- 
nel since D day, has been home.  Haven't seen him yet but I will.  By the way, Bob Campbell is back 
in the hospital at Hot Springs, Arkansas, what they call the Army and navy Hospital.  Don't know 
what's wrong.  Here is a report too that Pfc. Howard Tyner is in a hospital at APO 121 B.  Eddie Yar- 
nelle was promoted to a full Lieut., before being transported to South America.  Good boy, Eddie.  I 
hope you can get better discipline out of our men than I could get out of you and Rich back in the old 
days on the hill.  But, Ed, I took your Dad to Richmond one time, and I can't blame you kids for any- 
thing you might do.  Remember that trip, George?  Bill Sands has now gone back to Walla Walla as an 
instructor in bombadiering.  Bob Schmalzried and his wife, Joyce Summerland S. just live a block 
from Bill and his wife.  Say, what's wrong with you folks?  No family yet?  Come on and get busy.  
Remember Maurice Pennisten?  He is or was on Leyte with the old 38, and I see here where he wins a 
medal and a Bronze Star for bravery.  I can understand that alright. And you would too if you read 
some of the poetry that boy has sent me thru the mail.  Oh, K., Penny, hit them on the nose.  By the 
way, boys I am always delighted to hear from our girls in the service, alth- ough I pay more attention 
to the boys.  Here is a swell picture from Cadet Nurse Doris Peters, who in my opinion is one of the 
finest girls Linlawn has turned out in many a day.  She is tops and thanks, Doris for the picture.  Plenty 
of good luck,  Here is a V-mail from Eldon Stoops, and he says he never heard of a Wabash boy on 
this island in the Pac.  APO 293.  No, that is a new one.  We have no one there.  Glad that Bullaton 
gets right thru to you.  It don't get to all of them so fast, but I was thrilled to beat the band when I read 
here where Virgil Ballard after having received no mail at all for over four weeks as he had come up 
from New G. to the Philippines, and then on Xmas eve, the mail brought him one Bullaton for a Xmas 
present.  Eldon Stoops can't get over the fact that Duke Bridegroom is married.  Didn't surprise me 
much, Eldon.  He had that look while he was home.  Now, listen, Eldon, don't worry about there not 
being any girls left around here.  There are hundreds of them.  They are literally under our feet, and 
they will be here when you get back, and a big fine looking lug like yourself won't have a bit of tro- 
uble taking your pick.  Better see me first, however.  I can kind of steer you along.  I'm not worrying 
about the election, Eldon.  It's better this way.  If Dewey had been elected, the Democrats would have 
blamed the Belgian reverses on him without a doubt.  Here is something.  Ralph Spiker, my old sign 
painting friend, who was injured in Germany, went thru young Doctor Bill Sholty's hospital over on 
the front, and Doc operated on his wrist, and took care of his frozen feet.  Now, Ralph is up in the 
hospital in Battle Creek, Mich. And we hope will be home soon.  I just picked up Wally Jones' newest 
hospital address, wrote him an Air Mail and shipped him a couple late Bullatons.  Hope to hear from 
Wally soon.  Hello, here is a letter from Bill Guernsey from India. He says he talked to Harry J. Hutch- 
ens on the phone in San Diego a few months ago, and Harry J. told him to write Homer T. for the K 
Bullaton, and he wants it bad.  So we air mailed him a letter and told him that APO 433 had belonged 
to Harley Sutton over in India.  Bill and Harley both connected with the air service.  Bill is with the 
61st Air Service Group.  Hope you meet, boys.  Bill says he got married to Miss Elsie Cook of Morg- 
antown, West Virginia.  That's swell, Bill.  We hope to meet your wife in Wabash someday.  Write 
again.  What a letter here from Wally Walters of the 3rd Marine Air Wing out in the Pacific.  I like your 
view point Wally.  Tells about being squid fishing, and something got hold of his leg with a lot of 
tentacles.  What was it, an octopus?  I would say you had a narrow escape.  I am going to see if I can't 
dig you up some pictures around town here that you would enjoy.  You might dig me up some over 
there too.  I hope to hear from Bill Leach again one of these days.  He was in New Guinea for quite a 
while but now evidently up in the P. with the rest of the 38th.  I'm still getting Xmas cards yet on the 
16th of January.  I just opened one here from Max Brubaker, with a nice letter attached.  He is in France 
with the 217th FA Bn. And while he thinks the gals in France look pretty good, yet he hasn't seen any- 
thing that can approach those Wabash County girls.  Good judgment, young fellow.  A lot of these 
boys who step out to see the bright lights over in these other countries may get all messed up.  This 
was won't last forever.  Things will all be cracking up some of these days, and you will all look back at 
it like a bad nightmare.  Youth forgets quickly.  Just keep pitching in there boys.  Bo your job and 
don't let your carelessness cause some other fellows death.  My wife called me an hour ago to tell me 
that someone had just called her that Bill Barker's picture was in one of the groups of war prisoners in 
the Nov. 4 issue of the Liberty magazine.  Will have to hunt it up at the Library.  Bill was shot down 
two years ago over Italy flying out of Africa, just a little while before Ward Vandegrift was shot down.  
War is also a prisoner of war in Germany.  It won't be long anymore, boys, it won't be long.  Now, 
boys, the old man has about washed out for tonight.  I started out like a two year old and I end up like 
the old Hereford bull that Paul Hines was telling about.  I'm going home to bed.  Goodnight gang, and 
good luck.  Homer T.  
JANUARY 30, 1945
     An apology is in order.  Last week, in relating that story about Mrs. Wimberly (bless her heart) pic- 
king our president's pants pocket, I thot she was looking for money abut she tells me that preachers 
never have any money, and that she was looking for some addresses and telephone numbers she is sure 
he carries around with him.  And I don't blame him a bit as we do have a lot of cute waitresses up at 
that church every Tuesday noon.  Anyhow that "peach brandy" story was a good one, folks.  Now, to- 
day we had a good crowd, lots of good singing and real good meal.  I didn't get to stay for the program 
as I went to Peru to the Flood Prevention meeting.  Slowly, but surely, something will be done on the 
millions of dollars loss suffered from Flood waters every year in the Wabash Valley.  Next week, we 
celebrate our anniversary, the 30th for Kiwanis International.  It was founded in Detroit in 1915 as a 
trade organization and then changed to a Good Will Builder and it has done marvels since that time.  It 
is a mighty power for good in the United States and Canada, and the record of Kiwanis in Wabash is 
something to be proud of.  By the way, fellows, you are doing a fine job of getting your Bullatons mai- 
led, and I hope you are hearing from some of your "boys".  Even if you aren't, I hear from a great 
number of those you are mailing.  Once again, boys, please write your sponsor, if he puts his name up 
in the corner.  If he doesn't do that, he doesn't deserve to hear from you.
     Some of our roughneck members are still trying to get me to run that story Paul Hines told, but I 
won't do it.  We print only humorous stories with a questionable twist, nothing vulgar.  We have a new 
poet in Wabash.  I am printing three verses here sent to me by A.H. Zeidler, officer manager down at 
the General Electric, who came in here with John Gividen.  Poem entitled, "It Can Be Done." I don't 
know whether it can or not but that is the title of the poem.  
Precedent said that it couldn't be done,                   There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
     But he with a chuckle replied                                   There are thousands to prophesy failure;
That "maybe it couldn't" but he would be one         There are thousands to point out to you, one by one 
     Who wouldn't say so till he'd tried.                         The dangers that wait to assail you'
So he buckled right in, with the trace of a grin         But just buckle in, with a bit of a grin,     
     On his face.  If he worried, he hid it.                        Then take off your coat and go to it;
He started to sing as he tackled the thing                  Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing
     That couldn't be done, and he did it.                        That "cannot be done," and you'll do it.
                                            Precedent scoffed:  "Oh, you'll never do that;
                                                 At least, no one has ever done it."
                                            But he took off his coat, and he took off his hat,
                                                 And the first thing he knew, he'd begun it;
                                             With the lift of his chin, and bit of a grin,
                                                 If there was any doubting, he hid it;
                                             He started to sing as he tackled the thing
                                                 That couldn't be done, and he did it.
     This afternoon, while sitting in that flood meeting at Peru, I leaned over and told Bud that he should 
write out a poem while we were listening, but he stuck out his tongue and it was coated, and it seems 
that he has been having one of his ingrained headaches so I shook my head, "O.K," and went on 
listening.  Pretty soon he punched me and handed me this little gem:  
"I sat by a duchess at ten
     Embarrassed as I could be
Her rumblings abdominal
     Were something phenomenal
And the guests all thot
      It was me."
     Isn't that sweet?  Such an inspirational thing.  And one of our service men wrote me thus:  If Bud 
Mahaney had been born a Hoosier he would have been as great a poet as James Whit. Ri." I asked Bud 
what state he was born in once, and he said as near as he knew he was born in a state of unconscious-
ness.  I had no more to say.  
Now, my young friends, scattered throughout this country and over seas, I bid you good evening.  I am
       off to a fairly early start tonight, and am bulging with information I believe you will want to hear.  Our 
       first concern is to win the war.  No more talk of conversion, or changing of jobs until this thing is defi-
       nitely won.  A great many people, unknowingly and unwillingly, let out fighting men down, because
       they were too optimistic, and thot Germany would be out of the war by October.  Now, the theme is to 
       double the effort, and never slow up until Germany gives up.  I heard our congressman Forest Harness 
       this P.M. in Peru, and he told of the conditions among the fighting men in France, Belgium, and Ger-
      many, where he recently went on an inspection trip, and he says, "Our morale is fine, but the conditions 
       are terrific, and the fighting is beyond any man's imagination that hasn't participated in it."  He says, 
       "Win the War first."  And last night at the Presbyterian Church, five-hundred Wabash people heard Dr. 
        A.J. Cordier talk on the Dumbarton Oaks Conference in Washington, D.C. and it was mighty enlight-
        ening.  Dr. Cordier of Manchester College is now with the department of state, and is doing a good 
        job.  Now, I must also tell you about our basketball team.  Last week I told you they would play Mar-
        ion.  Well, they did and they won by ONE point.  This is the darndest ONE point team I ever saw.  
        Last Friday night, they played Burris here and won by Weaver turning and flipping the ball at the 
        basket and the gun goes off, and we win again by ONE point.  Then on Saturday night, they go down 
        to play the crack Tipton team and win by ONE point.  The darn fools wont play good unless their 
        opposition is either three points ahead, or they are three or four points behind.  And then they all go 
        crazy, and play so fast and furious, they get their opposition so excited they make a half dozen fouls, 
        and we win.  No kidding.  Listen to this.  Five minutes to go and the score is 35-24.  The coach is wild, 
        pulling out his hair by the handful.  He gets mad or smart, one or the other, and jerks out the whole 
        team.  By that time, the time is 3 minutes to go.  Game is lost.  Second team makes a basket.  Then 
        Lawson puts the first string in again, and the fireworks started.  They played so fast, and furious that 
        the referees were even confused.  Somebody shoots a long one, and then are fouled.  Two tries and 
        makes one of them.  Weaver is fouled and makes on of two tries.  Then we get a basket.  Finally, half 
        a minute to go.  Up and down and back and forth.  My Lord, what a game, and then with the crowd 
        screaming their heads off, Wabash gets possession of the ball, it is passed to Weaver, and he whirls 
        and shoots and the a gun explodes, and the game is won, 36-35.  This team is about fifteen points bet-
        ter than any of these teams they play, but they aren't satisfied if they get ahead of their opponents.  
        One other point, before I pass on.  Saturday night at Tipton was Devonne Cassiday's last game as he 
        Left for the army this morning.  Too bad.  And what a boy.  Finest attitude on the team.  And the boys  
        Were crazy about this kid.  We sure wish Cassiday the best of luck in service.  I could tell you more  
        But there isn't room.  Billie Rettig Ostheimer phoned me this morning that she had a letter from Bon- 
        nie Davidson, (the girl who makes and delivers doughnuts to the boys in the front lines in Belgium)  
        and Beanie wrote her to tell her that Dr. Bill Sholty had just read in the Bullaton where she was and  
        she was just 15 minutes "via jeep" from him and that he was coming right over.  He hadn't got there 
 yet, when Beanie quit writing, but Beanie wanted to tell Billie that he was coming and how happy she  
        was about it.  There's a great guy, Bill Sholty.  I hope he locates in Wabash after this war is over.  Wh-   
        en Ralph Spiker went thru his Hospital, Bill operated on his hand, and then went back repeatedly to se 
         see him and talk, mostly about Wabash.  Now, Doc, I find that George Jolly has the same APO as you   
        do. George is with the 602nd Tank Des. Co. B, and he will be tickled to death to see you or anyone else 
        from Wabash.  I have here such a swell letter from George.  Keep the old chin up, young fellow, you 
        will be back before you know it.  Remember Woody Drook?  Just found out by grapevine that he was 
        one of the boys they were dropping down among the Germans in France, three or four months before 
        June 6th.  Of course, they didn't catch him and they haven't yet.  I find here that Jim Fedewa and Dick 
        Baumbauer are at the same APO Fighter Base over in Italy, a Liberator group.  Nice letter from Deck.  
        Mad because I thot he was in England.  Say, here is a gunner Bob Friermood, a brother of Max, who is 
        also at APO 520 in Italy.  Get together, boys, get together.  And Jimmie Guthrie over on Guam.  Did 
        you know that Ralph Ogan is on Guam?  He is in some town on west side of island, 254th Sig. Const. 
        Bn at APO 246.  Bob Simons get that address?  Maybe you can see him.  Lea Colvin  has changed 
        APO from 27 to 86.  Are any of you boys in on the invasion of either Minora Island or further north, 
        and now on the march on Manilla?  Let me know.  Bob Tewksbury is on the Philippines and Dick is in 
        France.  Did I tell you Bart Smith is home from the So. Pacific, and looking great.  On the James Cr- 
        aig, a D.E. which had plenty of close calls.  Here is a card from Sgt. R. "Duke" Bridegroom, USMC
        P.S.N. Yd., Bremerton, Washington.  Says, "Keep your swell Bulls coming.  Will write again soon.
        Big news flash for you and Dohse.  "Wonder what Duke means by that.  Well, we will wait and see.  
 Say, Sgt. Henry J. Smith, out there with the 161st Inf. At APO 25, do you know that you wrote a reg-
ular masterpiece of a letter back here to Ernie Clark?  To read your letter even raises my morale.  Co-  
me in when you get back.  You and I are going to have our pictures taken together.  You, my boy, are 
the first man in all my experience that ever expressed any concern over my health.  Plenty have expr- 
essed plenty of concern over some bill I owed them, but nobody but you ever said anything about me 
injuring my health.  After all I have lived thru, writing Bullatons at 2 in the morning won't ruin my 
health.  So don't worry, but I appreciate your kind thots.  Listen, whenever any of you run across an- 
other Wabash boy who isn't receiving the Bull and you think he should, write his address on a card and 
mail it to me, and he will be put on, and another thing, whenever you move, either write me the new 
address or have your folks send it in.  Just now, I am looking at a picture of Eddie Ritchee, a gunners 
on a Dive Bomber in the navy out in the Pac.  Eddie, if all the boys knew how I value these pictures, 
they would all see that I got one.  Here is a picture of S/Sgt. Allen Rout and his baby, a darned cute lit- 
tle kid.  In the letter, Allen says that he finally met three boys at Valdosta, Ga. Air Field, the two Pulley 
brothers, and Don Baer, and he is mighty pleased.  Glad you are coming back to Wabash when the big 
"noise" is over.  So are about a thousand others.  Boys are we going to have a bunch of houses in this 
burg.  The name and fame of WABASH is really getting around.  Kenneth Vigus, manager of a hotel 
in California, found a Keewanus Bullaton lying on a table in the lounge of his hotel.  That gave me a 
bang.  Here is Jim Schetzsle new address F/B James R. Schetzsle, T-138260 C and R Pool Sqdrn B, 
LAAF, Lincoln, Nebraska.  Jim had a nice furlough.  Good boy.  Here is a letter from Verling Weesner 
in which he wants more info on Phil Magner.  Here it is; full address Lt. Philip G. Magner, 0-516626 
132 QM Bn, APO 782 c/o P.M. N.Y.  Verling says he has stopped more trucks than the M.P.'s since I 
put Phil's letter in the Bullaton.  I hope you locate him, Verling.  A.C. Graebner is O.K.  Sears are now 
putting in a farm store where Chet Crist used to be, and is going to need all you boys, including Kret-
zmeier and yourself.  Just had a swell letter from Lew this morning from France.  He likes France but 
prefers U.S.A. and especially Wabash.  Wait a minute.  Gotta quit, boys, and I haven't even started.  
So many I would like to mention and am wondering and worrying about.  Won't you fellows in the 
hospitals write as soon as you can?  Once more, gang, I say, goodnight and good luck.  Homer T. 
February 6, 1945
Yes, I'll admit that this is the oddest looking Bullaton I ever turned out but I did want to work this 
poem into this week's Anniversary issue, and poor old John Beamer put his heart and soul into this 
thing.  There isn't much rhyme, but there is a lot of reason to it.  It doesn't touch your heart strings like 
Bud Mahaney's poetry however.  The meeting today was one of the best in many a day.  Ware Wimb-
erly was at his best, and he introduced various orators of the club, Harley Gamble, Edward Beitman, 
democratic Milo, O.J. Neighbors and Bill Delaplane, and they told of our past glorious 25yrs. In Wab- 
ash.  Then to top it all off, Tom Kelley, Lt. Governor from Ft. Wayne gave us a swell little 5 minute 
talk on Kiwanis and we had a lot of visitors, Jack Miller of the Lions Club, Maurice Groverman of the 
Rotary, D.L. Leland of the Exchange, and Lt. Sellers, the handsome son of Kiwanian Sellers.  A swell 
time and a wonderful meal.  The ladies urge Kiwanians having any extra red points to drop them into 
the Bullaton Box.  By the way, I wonder how much money has been dropped into that box by this 
time.  The new attendance board marked off by Asher Gray made its appearance today and Frank 
Rettig was marking them down.  Don't miss.
     The following Poem on the Achievements of the Wabash Kiwanis Club was contributed by John V. 
Beamer, who is on a business or monkey business trip out to Arizona.  "Achievement Report of the 
Wabash Kiwanis Club 
Twas January of '20 and all around the town                                                                                                 
Was need of some men to make things go 'round.
        And so they came to choose themselves a name
        That would do great things and bring our town fame.
        The name they chose was Kiwanis-then new,
        But, boy, what work they started to do.

        They cleaned up the city, officials and streets;
        They cleared away rubbish and gave kids treats.
        Privies became scarce as proverbial hens' teeth,
        And glory did crown them all as a wreath.

        Farmer's boys were taught how to raise more pigs,
        And sometimes some things made several dance jigs.
        The sows were made meeker and the boars would bolder grow,
        And pigs came in abundance for Kiwanians to show.
        With this job finished and pig honors won
        They found that this was a job well done.
        They turned to potatoes the farmers to show
        How the school books said that taters should grow.
        But prices went down and taters were small,
        And some brothers didn't get their seed back at all.

        And then at baseball the old boys took a fling,
       But all were too slow or too fast on the swing,
       They played the young Wilsons from Rich Valley way
       And were put off the diamonds forever to stay.
       And now they were experienced and hearkened the call
       To teach the young boys how to play soft ball.
       This all was done with lots of real fun
       And kids tummies were filled with pigs in a bun,
       And with pop and ice cream and all such things
       Which to the boys misery usually brings.
       Back there someplace they felt quite flush
       And built the Riley hospital wing in a rush-
       So much of a rush that some members got sore
       And didn't come to the club meetings any more.

       Quite properly was held a baby contest-
       What or who won has never been guessed.
       For diapers still smell in the same old way
       And new papas pass cigars even to this day.

       Tonsils have been yanked and eyes fixed with cheaters'
       At helping all others they sure are world beaters.
       Trees were planted and still do grow
       Their own and Kiwanis grandeur to show.

      But times do change when wars begin to rage,
      And we have written in history our page.
     All bought or sold bonds for all wartime needs;
     Many gave blood and did all kinds of deeds.
     To help win the war was Kiwanis goal
     And something was done by every last soul.

     The biggest of all was one that you see,
     The "Bullaton" edited by Homer T.
     Bringing news and cheer to each fighting man,
     That truly is the Bullaton's plan.

     Oh, others have come and others will go,
     But one thing sure this club isn't slow.
     If there's a job to be done its members do it;
     They always win because they stick to it.
     And so on and on this ditty could go,
     But I must stop ere I spoil the show.
     "Was he surprised when you said you wanted to marry his daughter/"
     "Was he.  The shotgun nearly fell out of his hands."
     Scotty:  "Are you free this evening?"
     Blondie:  "Uh, uhuh, wellnot exactly free but surprisingly inexpensive."         
     Have you heard about the moron who dies and went to Heaven?  He was there three days before he
     discovered that God's last name wasn't Damn.
     Editor's Note:  We have more poets in this town than we have Hipskinds, all on account of this darned
       Hello gang, how's tricks?  The old town is fine back here.  It's been cold, darned cold this winter.  I 
haven't said anything about it for fear you'd get the idea that your wives, sweethearts or mothers were  
     freezing to death.  Don't worry.  They're all right, but I will be glad to hear the birds sing and the grass
     get green for lots of reasons.  Off with the long underwear and on with the shorts, no more itching and
     scratching, and we will all feel better.  Now the W.H.S. basketball game with Rochester.  Repeating
     what I told you last week, this is the craziest basketball team I ever saw, Rochester was no mean outfit.
     A 6-5 ½ inch center made Rocky look like a kid, and they had what it takes, but we battled around until 
     with only four minutes to play the score was 3-24 favoring Wabash.  Then, unable to stand prosperity, 
     the boys got to watching the girls in the stands or something (and I don't blame them much,) and the  
     first thing we knew the score of 32-31 in our favor.  Then one of their men threw a foul and it was tied.   
     Then they shot a basket.  "It's all over.  What's the matter with those guys?" and other remarks floated a
     around. Then Rocky woke up, and shot two baskets at about as many seconds and the game was over, 
     36-34, making the Valley score stand at 9 wins and no losses.  Driscoll showed up very well in Cassi-     
     day's place, but the boys missed that little blonde kid.  He's in the navy now and if you younger kids 
     want to help him over the bumps of his boot training, mail a card or letter to Devonne Royce Cassiday, 
     AS 9822172 U.S. Naval Trng. Center, Sampson, New York.  That is where Dutch Struck is and I want
     Cassiday to meet Dutch.  Do them both good.  Lots of you guys will be glad that Art Overaa had a cha-
     nce to come home from Kessler Field where he is serving in the ground forces of the Air Corps.  Art's
     a great guy, and he saw the game with Rochester, and got him a seat up in the box at the south end
  where he could see all the kids as well as the game.  He wore a continual grin all thru the game.  Then 
  Walter "Smitty" Smith is back on rotation from New Guinea.  Was on Biak Island in the engrs.  Showed 
 me a wrist watch that he took off a Jap made in Japan.  Smitty operated a crane, and bulldozer.  Never 
dug a foxhole by hand.  Scooped out a big shovel full with the crane.  Lowered the steel shovel over the 
hole and crawled in and slept peacefully.  He looked good.  Then yesterday, Bob Campbell came in and 
he was back from Finchaven, N. Guinea too.  He was pretty shy but I got him to talking and he told me 
all kinds of yearns.  All about the people, how they act and look.  Must be something.  Said it was any- 
thing at all to see a native woman walking along carrying and nursing two little pigs at the same time, 
making pets out of them.  The pigs won't leave and when they are big enough, they eat them.  Bob pic- 
ked up some of this fungus growth or whatever it is, and is home from Hot Springs, Arkansas.  Today I 
received a letter from Capt. John Stoops, a young doctor from APO 339 which is Belgium.  He hasn't 
met Doc Bill Sholty, but did cross paths with Lt. Jessie Lehman, one of the twins who is now a nurse, 
and they say a good one.  Jean enclosed a Newspaper from over there telling about Dick Tewksbury, of 
WABASH INDIANA, who was the big factor in winning a football game in Paris.  Can't keep Tweky 
down, nor his older brother, Bob, either, now in the Philippines.  And here is one swell letter from Wil- 
lie Bizjak, now a 1st Lt. And I am going to take a chance and tell you that he is with the 669yh AAA 
M.G. Btry APO 219, New York.  That is Burma.  Says he moved there recently from Assam.  Well, I'm 
glad you enjoy the Bullaton.  After receiving better than 2800 letters and cards all telling me the same 
thing, how it is the chain by which they hang on to civilization, and how other boys send it to their 
home town in the hopes they will do the same thing for them, even I am beginning to be sold on the 
value of the B.  In fact, I just now find here that you have the same APO as Pfc. John Hawley, the rug- 
ged son of Harry Hawley of the Ford Meter Box.  John is in the 124 Cavalry L Troop, and has your 
APO.  Don't you think you can get together.  Write each other a letter or go to Red Cross.  Do it at once, 
and there is Harley Sutton at APO 690 and Bill Guernsey at APO 433.  if you boys in India and Burma 
will loosen up a little more, I will get a map and study the darned thing, and we'll get some of you to- 
gether.  Bill Lutz is over there and Schuyler Hudson, and no doubt a lot more with these new APO's.  
Speak up boys, and let me know.  Another thing.  I want to know if any of you are on that march to 
Manila.  Tell me who, please.  I just wonder if Wayne Chapman could be in that outfit.  I got your letter, 
Wayne, and it is a knockout.  362nd F.A. with APO 96.  Yes, there are a lot of Indiana boys over there.  
What is your captain's name, whom you say is a Hoosier.  I'll read your letter to the K Club, and some 
more places.  By the way, I was at Gacky's tonight and Norma tells me the baby has her second tooth 
now.  (Norma is Kenny Alger's wife and the baby, Charyl, is his too, as it looks just like him.)  Says the 
baby is getting along fine now, and she don't have a bit of trouble getting rubber pants (for the baby, I 
mean) as she works in the drug store and knows when they come in.  And, Walter Smith, while I was in 
there I talked a few minutes with your wife Jean, and she thinks you are about the berries, fellow.  Bar-  
bara Streng that's Carl's wife works in there too, and she is as cute as a button.  No wonder you boys 
want to get this war over and get back to Wabash.  Then too there is Martha Knotts, wife of Forrest 
Knotts, over in Finchaven, New guinea.  She works a full shift at the General Tire, and at Gachenhei- 
mers too.  What a woman you married, my boy.  Why don't you write me a letter?  Here's a nice letter 
from Gloe Vrooman Jr. from Guadalcanal, and that he is moving north right away to Los Negros Island, 
so if any of you boys are on that island keep your eye peeled for that First Marine Aircraft Wing that 
Junior belongs too.  The best of luck kid, and one of these days, that mail will roll in so heavy, that you 
won't be able to read it.  Say here is an Indiana newspaper from Calcutta called the Hindustan Stand- 
ard mailed to me by James R. Thomas from APO 465.  Fred Hinkle has your APO and I am here tel- 
ling him that you are with Hq. Co. Base Section 2.  Maybe you can meet.  Fred told me that he was on 
the outskirts of a big city where they had picture shows the same as we do.  A letter here from Jim Clark 
from Scotland, wanting the latest dope on Freddie Vincent.  He's up to the House of David growing 
another cootie nest (beard).  What's this Bull you give me about writing the verse for a new song? 
FEBRUARY 13, 1945
     What a day in Kiwanis this one was.  First place, among our guests were some wonderful young 
men.  Lt. Don Baer, Lt. Robert Brooks, Air Cadet George Parks, and two seamen, G.N. McVicker and 
Jim Biggs.  As I looked those boys over, the thot hit me, "what chance has the Japs or Germans or any- 
one else against fellows like these." Kiwanis means a lot to us who meet there week after week, but the 
presence of our service men does something to the entire group.  Then during the introductions, Com- 
mander Don Cross gets up, and announces that he has come to tell us the American legion has voted the 
amount of $300.00 with no strings attached, to be used to send more and more Bullatons to the service 
men of Wabash County, it made me swell up with pride in the whole-hearted cooperation that this town 
gives in furthering things that are worth while.  Hats off to the American Legion of Wabash, Indiana.  
They want the boys now at War to know that they are backing them up in every way possible, and this 
gift is just one of the many things they are doing.  Of course, they remember their days spent in the mud 
of France twenty-five years ago, and they remember how important that old mail was from back home, 
and they want to lift the burden a little, and then on top of that Mr. Visser director of Wabash County 
Scouting introduced Dave Harvey, Eagle Scout, John Beamer, Eagle Scout and five other high ranking 
scouts; Vic Hipskind, Emerson Erb, David Ford, Tom Weesner and Melvin Drill.  Each boy made little 
speech, and it impressed me how easily each one expressed himself.  Truly scouting is a wonderful 
thing.  Mores the power to you, Bill Visser.  Come Again
     No kidding, fellows, we are breeding all kinds of poets around Wabash these days some good, some 
not so good.  Am, getting quite a collection, but most of them are too sensible, or too sentimental, not 
enough of the old spizzerinktum in them.  The poem of the "ole Woman from Dory" hit the jackpot for 
sure.  I gave out a hundred extra copies myself, and I just learned that Byron Kennedy up in Detroit 
mimeographed 500 copies and gave them out all over Detroit.  What a rep Wabash will have when this 
war is over.  Now, some stories.  Here's one Harry Ridgeway handed me.  Pretty cute, and so typical of 
Wabash boys.
Teacher to Class- children, you will tell me now what you would like to be when you grow up.
First Pupil – My name is Dan, when I grow up to be a man, I am going to Japan if I can, and I think I 
Second Pupil – My name is Sadie, when I grow up to be a lady, I want to have a baby, and I think I can, 
and I think I can.
Third Pupil – My name is Sam, and when I grow up to be a man, I wont give a damn about Japan, but I 
would like to help Sadie with her plan if I can, and I think I can.
     Today over at the union Coffee Shop, one of the younger war widows, wiggled her finger at me a 
couple times, and I went over, and she fished out of her pocketbook a little two verse poem she had 
made up that she thot might fit in the Bullaton.  It's
"I'd trust my husband anywhere, she said:
     My faith in him is full, 'tis satisfied.
I know that all his thots are fair," she said
     I know he's put temptations all aside.
"I know that he is strong, sublime," she said
     I know that all his love is mine fore'er
I'd trust my husband anywhere," she said,
     Unless a woman happened to be there.
Note.  Isn't that sweet?
     Here is a story that Pvt. Wayne Chapman sent back from the Philippines that gave me a laugh.
     "A Captain took his men out on the field to give them a little training of Manual of Arms.  They 
were all recruits.  He shouted, "Right Should Arms.  Left should arms.  Port arms and Order arms."  
They all got thru it pretty good except one rookie.  He would always grasp the rifle by the barrel or the 
stock when the officer gave it back to him, instead of the balance of the rifle as he should.  Finally in 
disgust the officer got mad, three his hat on the ground, and shouted,"  "Say, you dumbbell, where is the 
balance of your rifle?"  The reply, "Damned if I know, sir, this is all the supply sergeant gave me."
     Now, boys, if you think I don't have more news tonight right in my head than you could read in the 
PD in a week, you don't know me or the Plain Dealer.  I don't know where to being.  Taken your cho- 
ice, boys.  We have love, marriages, divorces, fighting, basketball, babies, and more on the road, and 
that never ending story of our young men abroad who are spreading the name and the fame of Wabash 
to all corners of the globe.  If I had time boys, how I could go on here for four pages on what our boys 
are doing, but there isn't room.  To you who are new on the mailing list, just read a couple issues and 
you will get next to what is going on.  About 1100 on the mailing list now, and growing every day.    
Mercedes, Texas sent me another copy of their Bullaton patterned after ours and it is a dandy, and the 
boys from Mercedes will love it, (wait and see, Mercedes) although our boys from Indiana call Texas 
"the land that God forgot," and it is hard to realize that anyone in Texas has enough ambition to write a 
scandal sheet of their own, but they have and it is good.  Now basketball.  Last week-well, I offer no 
apologies, but ---the referees called 4 fouls on John Rockwell in 7 minutes and 10 seconds, and the 
coach took him out.  In went Nate Hartman ready but rough, and he mussed them up considerable.  In 
the meantime, Weaver gets three fouls, which practically put him on ice.  But, never the less, the Wab- 
ash boys were ahead of Plymouth at the half.  The going was awfully rough.  Plymouth was big and 
smart.  They run Miller and young Bowman into the line up, but they rolled young Bowman around 
over the floor like a teddy bear, and Miller showed up fine with great promise.  However, Plymouth got 
out ahead of Wabash, and Wabash couldn't get caught up, even though Rocky went back in the game 
for exactly seven seconds, when he was put out in his fifth foul.  The score 52-39.  We're not discour- 
aged.  This is the best team we ever had.  Tatum says that they found out afterwards that one of the 
referees father is a janitor in the high school, and that the other officials mother was a cousin of the 
principal of the Plymouth High, and blood is thicker than water.  Tomorrow night, it is Monticello, and 
then Sat. night So. Side of Ft. Wayne.  WE ARE GOING TO THE STATE THIS YEAR.  Wait and see.  
Lt. Robt Scranton was in the office yesterday.  Looks good.  New York City at port of embarkation.  
Collecting addresses of former friends.  Loves the GB. And says everybody reads it.  Then Don Baer 
and the two Pulley boys, Bob and John, all three now aviators on twin motor jobs, came in and we had a 
time.  All three Christian Church boys, and they were a sight for sore eyes to me.  Wonderful fellows.
The boys are not sure where they will go from here.  Then Richard Lewis, "Smitty" came in and spent 
and hour telling me about the ship he was on.  Said he liked it in the navy, was in on the Philippines 
affair, front end of the boat caved in with a torpedo.  Said he got all he could eat.  He is a cook on the 
boat.  No wonder,  Then next in line was George Parks, last year's flash heavy weight half back.  An- 
other C. Church boy (absent most of the time however) and he will be a pilot one of these days.  Crying 
for an Airport for Wabash, already.  Take your time, George.  Let's see what the new aviation law for 
Indiana will be.  We'll have one all right.  None of these boys are married.  But Jim Biggs is. Has a 
swell little kid, Jim says, ornery as they make them, but a lovely mother.  Jim married Gertrude Weling 
a former nurse at the local hospital.  Kid ought to make a football player.  Speaking of babies.  Permit 
me to announce that Max Stevens, now navigating Liberators out of the Philippines, is the proud papa 
of a fine baby boy, born in a hospital in San Antonio, Texas.  Congrats Max.  That puts you even with 
the rest of the boys.  And now, young ladies and gentlemen, get ready for a shock.  Clo Dohse is going 
to have a baby, or rather his wife is.  I'm not sure he knows it yet but Duke Bridegroom writes me that it 
is so, and Duke says something else to arouse my suspicion about himself.  You remember Duke mar- 
ried a few weeks ago (or was it last summer), anyway, he has a big secret to tell me.  I'm beginning to 
feel like Father Confessor or something.  I haven't been able to get #177 yet, but I will keep trying, and 
I won't give away any secrets until you tell me.  I have known about Clo Dohse's "event" for a long 
time, Betty (bless her heart) told me a good while ago, but Duke-well, we"ll wait.  Ho, ho, here is a 
good one.  A woman came in Saturday and told me that she got hold of a Bullaton with that poem of 
bud Mahaney's in it, "Old Woman from Dory," and mailed it out to her sister in Arkansas, whose hus- 
band was sick in a hospital.  She just got a letter back from the sister, who told her that she took the B. 
to the hospital to read it to her husband, and after she read it, the old man got to laughing until the tears 
run down his face, and suddenly he kicked aside the covers, and stood up in his underwear and said, 
"Hell, maw, this is no place for me.  Hand me my pants, there's a war going on."  That's a fact.  It hap- 
pened.  That is raising morale, isn't it boys?  Pat Cody, boys, was injured in France, and is in bad shape, 
but was able to phone from Boston the other day.  Keep that old chin up Pat.  The other night over  
WLW , came a story of one Lt. Robt. Tewksbury, who was assigned the job of taking 200 Philippine 
guerillas and capturing a town on Luzon.  No details were given, but he was successful, the announcer 
said.  Bob is attached to the 38th Division, which made landings west of Manila a week ago.  We have 
better than 30 boys in the outfit.  It's the old Nat'l Guard outfit.  What a thrill they must have got as they 
battered down the doors of those Manila prisons.  Phil Magner writes that thru the Bullaton Doc LaSalle 
had phoned him and they got together and ate pork chops, and had a swell time.  Good boy, Phil.  Keep 
your eye open for Joh Fitzpatrick or Rod Hipskind.  By the way, Sunday's Star carried a 2 column story 
on Rod Hipskind, the artist, and showed a couple of his sketches.  That gave the old town back here 
something to talk about.  Watch for his cartoons in Stars and Stripes, fellows.  Then today, I opened a 
letter from Tom Hickey from Burma, enclosing one of those big Pin Ups of Margie Stewart, which he 
swiped from a USO hut out there, and mailed back to me.  That goes up on the wall.  That Hindustan 
newspaper you sent me from Calcutta was swell and am turning it over to Ware Wimberly to read.  
Keep writing, Tom.  Am wondering about big Sgt. Bill Leach.  That guy is all right.  He sent me pic- 
tures and presents from Hawaii and from New Guinea, and he is now with the 39th walking the streets of 
Manila, I hope, as I have a job picked out for him on the police force if he wants it.  No kidding.  Hey, I 
must tell you about Hubert and Dorothy Dubois, my own projeny who are beating around over this co- 
untry.  Couple weeks ago, Hubert, was moved from Ft. Pierce Fla. To Newport, R.I.  It was sudden, and 
it was up to Dorothy to pack up the old Plymouth, and load up the two boys, Tommy age 2 ½ and Bill 
age 3 months and hit the road, either, for Wabash or Rhode Island.  So they drove, mamma and the two 
kids for three and a half days and 1200 miles and ended up at Philadelphia, at Aunt Fanny's.  Then she 
phoned us here and told us what she had done.  The roads beyond New York are almost impassable, but 
it is a wonder Dort didn't try it.  I'm glad she isn't a boy.  What with this Bullaton and all of you to wor- 
ry about, and my own kids scattered al over the world, I guess I got plenty to think about.  Now, I have- 
n't mentioned a letter, and I have thirty here, but maybe next time.  Just keep writing boys.  Tell me 
your troubles and your experiences, and the Bullaton will come to you without fail.  Homer T.
FEBRUARY 20, 1945
     Well, I'm late tonight, and I got to tear into this, as I got to get some sleep tonight, as I'm going to 
the big city tomorrow morning early with Bud Mahaney, and that is going to eat up a lot of my reserve, 
just to listen to that line for 85 miles and 2 hours.  But by the time we get back, we will have the outline 
of a half dozen poems worked out, and besides, I am going to sell him some good insurance on his car 
before we get back.  I sat down opposite Howard Halderman, Bottle Talbert and Fank Rettig, and that is 
a hard hand to beat.  Three of a kind, three jacks, I think.  The yarns they told me.  Anyway, we had a 
good meeting.  The lady who spoke to us, (I couldn't get the name) was not only intelligent, and a good 
speaker, but she was a charming speaker.  Think of living for 30 years in Thailand or Indo China.  How 
little we little people really know about the rest of the world.  After all she told us about Thailand mea- 
ning "Free" land for 600 years, except when the French and the British came in and took a couple of 
provinces, and how easy it was for the Japanese to come in a few years ago and convince the people that 
they had been robbed of their liberty and "Freedom" by the French and British.  Now is no time to 
blame our allies, but I wanted to ask one question.  After our boys from Wabash and others from this 
side of the world take back Singapore, and then Bangkok in Indo-China, and drive out the Japanese, 
"Who are we going to give the country back too, the people of Thailand, the French or the British?"  
You guess, I have mine.  Anyway, the missionary was a good Christian, carrying out the commands of 
the gospel that says, "Go ye, and preach unto all people, of all nations,  etc." or something like that, and 
I'll bet she has done more good for humanity personally than all the Rotary Clubs in the world put 
together.  What do you think?
     Now, let's see.  What we got, Poems, yes, and the best one is to doggoned personal.  Let's see if we 
can find some stories.  Don't hold your breath, you members of the Ladies Aids of the city, (who aren't 
really supposed to be reading this thing anyhow), you're not going to be shocked this time.
     On his journey to the Middle East, President Roosevelt reached a country where the natives all 
greeted him with shouts of, "Qua ho la!  Qua ho la!"  the President graciously acknowledged the shouts, 
but finally turned to an aide for translation.  "Qua Ho la, Sir," replied the officer somewhat reluctantly, 
'means 'That's her husband!'"
SIGNS OF THE TIMES – Sign on a small, dingy, doubtful-looking restaurant in Minneapolis:  "Come 
in Anyway."  A Seattle restaurant sign reads: "Waitress wanted.  Will marry if necessary." 
     All a sweater does for her is to make he look warm!
Othello:  "You are always wishing for something you haven't got."
Ophelia:  "Well, what else can you wish for?"
     In an Army hospital one nurse warns another:  "these are the dangerous cases.  They're almost well!"
    We were checking out of the Roosevelt Hotel in New York.  At the next window was a sailor paying 
his bill.  He looked up at the girl cashier and asked what it was she wore around her neck.
     "That's a ribbon, of course, why do you ask?"
     "Well, everything else is so high around here, I just thought it was you garter."
     Hello, fellows.  Hows things tonight?  Yea, I know.  And I don't blame you a bit.  I'm not feeling so 
hot myself this evening, but imagine I will survive as I always have.  Funny thing, boys, I 2work in re- 
verse, I guess.  I run around all day, up to the City hall, back to the office, and out on a wreck, or to de- 
liver a couple policies.  Meet the coal dealers, hunt up the garbage and ash collector (Oh Lord, why did I 
mention that) back and forth, in and out, up and down, and by evening I am all in.  Then I start writing 
the Bullaton, slow at first, and the further and the longer I go, the better I feel.   There are several hund- 
red of you fellows I don't know at all, but there are hundreds of you that I do, and when I think of you, I 
can see you on the football field, or out to the High School, or in at Teels or at Gachs, and I feel just like 
I am talking to you this way.  And especially those 182 boys in the service from my old class.  I know 
we are again getting together thru these Bullatons.  And I still want you boys to be big not just physi- 
cally, but in those other ways, that make you respected, and valued and loved by those around you.  We 
want to turn out boys so strong that they can take care of themselves in every way, who can associate 
with any kind of crowd and still stand on their feet, make up their own minds, and keep clean enough 
that they can come back to Wabash someday, and raise their families here, and really live in a way we 
will all be pround of.  Sure, I'm personally proud of all of you and what you have done, and last Sunday 
P.M. when the big crowd gathered at the Lincoln Monument at the Court House, and the Boy Scouts 
laid their wreaths at the foot of Abraham Lincoln, and then Mr. Tewksbury, "Tecky" as you all know 
him, stepped out and in a voice, strong, firm, and earnest, made a speech which would have done credit 
to Lincoln himself, and never a break or a moment of hesitation.  He has guts to, as I know that one boy 
is in France or Belgium and the other only last week was reported on the radio as having accomplished a 
difficult feat on Luzon.  See what I meant a little while ago.  That's settling in Wabash and raising a fa- 
mily to be proud of, isn't it?  And that's what I want you to do, and wheat the Kiwanis Club and the   
American Legion wants you to do.  Now, wait a minute, I am getting sentimental, and I'm really hard as 
nails.  Basketball, Yep, got beat by So. Side of Ft. Wayne by 4 points, but the best team didn't win that 
game.  I won't alibi.  We still have Rochester to beat to clinch the Valley Championship tomorrow  
night, and Rochester is tough this year.  But, regardless, I still say we are going to the state.  Arrange-  
ments all made.  Next week I would like to tell you about Coach Coolman and his Junior High team that 
has hardly lost a game this year.  Incidentally, Glenn is an institution, himself, to be proud of, and many 
of you will get a thrill just to think of your experiences under Glen Coolman in Junior High.  Now let- 
ters.  Let's see.  Here's a letter from Bill Fleshood from the SW Pac.  Fine letter, Bill.  I haven't heard 
from your bros. lately but they are getting the B. and I sure will send your regards to all the boys.  Bill 
met Bob Burdick lately and got a bang out of it.  Bill says, "Every B. gets better.  The guys who read it 
say "How in the H--- can one man keep track of so many guys, where they are, and what they're do-  
ing?" and Bill says that all he can say is "You don't know Homer T."  This kind of talk makes me awful 
mad, Bill, so mad, I will never take your name off the list.  Well, thanks, Mrs. Eugene Young, from 
Mountain Home, Idaho, who is with her husband, "Buck" at an air base out there.  She gives me her 
brother's correct address over in India.  I already had it as Fred is one of my best writers.  If any of you 
have brothers or sisters in the service who aren't getting it, let me know their address, and their names 
will be added.  Give Buck my regards.  Two things I hate to tell you about, but I know you want the bad 
as well as the good.  Lt. Tom Sundheimer is "missing in action."  No details are given, but he may be a 
prisoner of war.  This happened the last of January on the front lines in Germany.  One grand fellow, 
Tom is, and we hope we get better mews of him soon.  Another jolt is that John Hawley, Pfc, who was 
moved from Assam to a base in Burma, was wounded in the right leg.  In 18 hours, he was moved from 
the scene of the accident to the 20th General Hos. In Assam.  I know a couple of you boys are in or near 
Assam right now, and you get right over to that hospital and hunt this kid up.  Keep the old chin up, 
John, you got what it takes, and write when you can.  By George, the next letter I pick up here is from 
Calcutta, India, from Pvt. James R. Thomas, that's Paul Thomas' boy, and he mentions Ledo road being 
opened up, and I know John Hawley has mentioned the Ledo road a couple times.  And tell Bob Carp- 
enter about Hawley too, if he is there with you.  One of you might be able to see him.  I got a kick out of 
your picture in that paper and will show it to your Dad.  You look big enough to be able to whip the old 
man when you get back.  Here is a swell letter from "Burkie" Lemoine Burkholder from Luxembourg.  
Says he sees Charles Hettmansperger once in a while.  Burkie is in a nice quiet (?) outfit, the Glider Inf.  
Excuse me from that.  Write again.  Here is a swell letter from Sgt. Harry Hayes, who tells me he never 
sees Wabash Boys, and I find here Frank Hollingshead, Fred Clupper, Jack Titus at the same APO, and 
Ralph Snowberger, Rowan Carlton, Ralph Bent, Joe Christle, and Harold Wolf at APO 558 and Bob 
Neighbors, Don Stone, John Louis Adams, Ed Drerup and Myron Smith at 559, and upon good author- 
ity, I am told that you fellows are all within ten miles of each other.  If any of you want a fuller, let me 
know.  Hayes says that he has married a little English girl and wants to bring her back to Wabash and 
prove to her that people can be as nice as Wabash people are.  Boys, I hope you aren't oversold on this 
old burg.  Right now, the snow has melted, and it is dirty and dingy, and there isn't too much for young 
people to do, but, it's true that you can brighten it up all you want to when you get back.  Say, did you 
boys hear that Dorothy Pontius is married.  Yep, I wrote her husband's name down but I can't find the 
paper. They live in sunny California.  He is a Sgt. and his name is something like Psychiusco, a tough 
one to remember.  Don't know the guy, but picked off one of my old favorites.  Big smile and lots of 
sunshine, Dorothy has.  Plenty of luck, you two.  Last week, Lt. Robt. Brooks visited our K Club.  Dur-  
ing the week, darned if he didn't get married.  Somebody said an awful nice girl.  Hope so.  Say,  do any 
of you guys in the 38th division over on Luzon know Lt. Col. Harold Carpenter.  If so, you might tell 
him his brother from Indianapolis stopped in at my office the other night was telling me that his brother 
had quite a number of Wabash boys in his outfit.  I want to hear from some of you birds as soon as 
possible.  The whole world, and especially this small spot on the map is watching the progress of the 
38th, an we are more anxious about you.  Write when you can, and tell me who all is with you.  I can't 
see how they could possibly get any mail in and out of manila, but I guess they do.  I just heard that Bob 
Haag is headed home from India after about 3 years over there.  Find.  Here's a nice letter from Bob 
Simons from Guam.  Says he can't help but be impressed by all the recent marriages.  He is not consid- 
ering that just yet but he does have an eye on some young lady from Evanston that he feels would meet 
with my approval.  O.K., boy, bring her in.  Am so sorry I didn't get to meet Don Schneider and his 
wife.  Don and his young lady were in the office a half dozen times before and after matrio but missed 
me each time.  Well, plenty of time in the future, as you will all be surprised how long you live after 
you get to be 20 or 25 years old.  Now, I'm nearing the end of this tirade, but first I want to say that is 
time I was hearing from Joe Palmer, Wilbur Van Horn, Gordon Owens, Harry Bradley, John Fitzpat- 
rick, Rod Hipskind, Wally Jones, Harry Forbes, Pete Martin, Clo Dohse, and his brother Dale, Jack 
Mathers, Dick Baubauer, and a whole lot more.  Where is Dick Wibel?  I am wondering about another 
old friend, Ray Robinson who was in Luxembourg before the German bulge.  Keep writing, boys, and I 
will give the info right back to you.  Now, good night and the best of luck from all of us to all of you.  
Homer T.  
FEBRUARY 27, 1945                         
           I imagine a ghost writer will be about as popular with you fellows in the service as the poor fish who
     wished for a White Xmas is just now around Wabash.  We've spent the winter with a broom in one hand 
     and s snow shovel in the other and yesterday we got a few inches more snow.  Of course there wasn't 
     anybody shooting at us, although the Mayor did make a couple of nasty cracks in the paper about house- 
     holders keeping their walks clean.  Homer T. had to miss Kiwanis today, hence the ghost writer stuff. 
     I finally got it figured out tho, John Gividen talked to us today and John being an educated guy Homer 
     must have been a bit worried for fear he would use words that would be too hard to spell.   Milo Mere- 
     dith says when Homer attended Wabash College the members of football team didn't have to take spel- 
     ling and that explains some of the words you fellows probably wondered about in past issues.  John
     gave the Club a fine talk today on "Decentralization in the Industrial World."  A bunch of boys from 
     Junior High furnished a musical treat, too.  We've got more talent around Wabash than Hitler has head- 
     The other day in the mail I received a swell letter from Joyce Stevens (Max's wife) from San Anto- 
nio, Texas, telling me how much the news contained in the Bullaton means to the wives of the boys, and 
I am so grateful for your kind remarks, and she includes a few verses of poetry which I am taking the 
liberty of printing here, in the hopes first that you will like it, and next that old Max, (who is riding the 
head end of a Liberator out of the Philippines over Formosa and Iwo Jima) will get a kick out of it when 
he sees it.  It is dedicated to his little son, and the poem was written at 2 A.M. while Mrs. Stevens was 
still in the hospital.  I think it is swell, and that you have plenty of what it takes.  And someday, maybe 
the boy will sit in the same chair that his Dad did in the old S.S. class.
            "To A Newborn Son" –by his mother
Open your eyes, my little man,
And take a chance on life!
This is a dark, mysterious land,
But you must face its strife.

There is no one who can live for you,
Nor bear your many pains,
But God will help you see it through,
And guide your footsteps aims.

This is a war-torn, cruel place,
Yet, tomorrow the sun will shine,
And dawn will lighten up your face
When darkness passes the prime.

Don't be alarmed at the battle-cry,
Nor flinch at the sight of blood;
But elevate your ideals high—
Let Faith your small heart flood.

Where now is the stench of bodies dead,
A rose will bloom someday.
God joined their hands; and duty bled
To chase remorse away.

So open your eyes, my little boy;
This aged world is greeting you!
With every pain there is some joy,
And Faith makes dreams come true.
     A blindfolded medium sat upon the stage answering questions gathered from the audience by a 
roving assistant.  Came the final query.  "This lady," unctuously announced the assistant, "has been 
deserted by her husband, and wants to know if he will ever return to her."
     The mind-reader made a few mysterious passes with her hand, then from her world of darkness 
confidently replied, "Yes, he will return to her soon, and they will be very happy."  "Old girl," said the 
assistant, after the performance, "you were all wet on that last answer.  That woman will never see her 
husband again."  "How dare you question my powers?" retorted the mind-reader indignantly.  "I see 
into the future."  "Oh, yes," taunted the confederate, "Well, I saw the woman!" 
     Yes, there is "A time to laugh."  It says in the Bible, "Ecclesiastes, the 3rd Chapter and 4th Verse.
An old judge, who was known for the remarkable speed with which he disposed of his cases was asked 
by a friend to explain it.  "I always listen to the plaintiff, and then I make my decision."  "Never to the 
defendant?"  "Well, I did at first, but I found out it confused me."
"You're going on a long journey," said the fortune teller to an inquiring rookie soldier, "and it should be 
worth a dollar."
Pulling a bill from his pocket, the trusting doughboy passed it over to the woman palm reader who gave 
in return this simple answer:  "I know, but it's a military secret."
"Oh, tell me," inquired a romantically inclined old maid of a young bride, "When did you first become 
acquainted with your husband?"  "The first time I asked him for money after we were married," was the 
instant reply.
the minister had just concluded his funeral oration over the remains of Rasus Jones, and the little group 
of colored people had discreetly withdrawn so that the widow might be alone for the last time with her 
late lamented spouse.  But one friend, a little more curious than the rest, lingered outside the door and 
listened.  The widow approached the casket, gazed down at the deceased, and uttered a single sentence.  
"Rastus," she muttered, "I hope you is gone what I spec' yo' ain't."
Fellows, this is going to be fast and furious.  This is Sunday night at 10:30 P.M. and I'm leaving for 
Philadelphia by train to pick up Dorothy and my two little grandsons, who I told you got that far, in fol- 
lowing the old man of the family, "Ick" Dubois, from Florida to Newport, R.I. because they knew he 
was being assigned to his ship.  The ship will be commissioned this week at Newport, an LST Carrier.  
Join with me, all of you, in wishing Hubert the best of luck.  We will drive their car back and here's 
hoping they have plenty of gas tickets, as I can't be gone more than a day and a half.  The first para-
graph of this issue of B. is being written by good old Bill Delaplane, the father of Bill and Joe, and I 
have never seen any father more proud of his boys than Bill.  He don't blow about it, be just radiates it.  
Both boys write wonderful letters to him.  I wonder if you write your Dad, young fellows, as much as 
you should.  Try it, if you want to pep the old boy up and put him on his feet.  Now, the news, Jack 
Fraustein got in from Panama, last night, all over smiles and sunshine.  Haven't seen him yet, but Jack 
sent me a picture of the best-looking gal from Panama, I have received from anyplace.  Wow.  George 
Parks still in town, but will leave soon.  Mrs. Forrest Knotts showed me the Bronze Star that her hus- 
band received for meritorious service in New Guinea, and she is very proud of it.  I just added the name 
of Pvt. Paul Smith to the mailing list, and I find him in the Engineers right up in Belgium at APO 350, 
and I find at the same APO, Charles Faust, Lawrence Reed, Russell Snowberger, Waldo Finfrock, Dick 
martin and Lawrence Gray, the old road builder, no a Captain or a Major.  A lot of you fellows should 
meet.  It seems that meeting each other is one thing, you guys get the biggest kick our of.  Have a card 
lying here from Bill Thompson from New Guinea, who says "Quit sending my Bullaton to 913 in Fiji.  
I'm over here in N.G. at 322."  Then he adds, "I met Atlee Lawson the other day here and boy, oh boy, 
what an old home week we had.  We had a beer party to end all beer parties.  Am sending some pict- 
ures."  The beer business kind of shocked me a little but my Kid, Charley, says there isn't any alcohol in 
it, so I suppose it is all right.  But I am sure glad you boys met over there.  Say, haven't mentioned bask- 
etball, have I?  Well, the boys run into a slump and got bumped off by Rochester and Kokomo.  Lost to 
Roch. By one point 37-36 and Kokomo went crazy, score 53-34.  Sounds worse than it was.  The Cou- 
nty begins this week, and I'll advise you on outcome.  There are some mighty good county teams all 
right.  Say, Jim Sailors, that was a fine letter.  The Plain Dealer printed it.  Very good.  We need those 
kind of letters to impress the war onto the people.  You wanted other Wabash boys at 339.  Several of 
them Dr. Jean Stoops a Captain 95th Med G.T. Bn,. One of the best boys we ever turned out, and Dick 
Stubbs, Charles Holley, Russell Eppley and Paul Meyers.  I hope you meet some of these fellows.  I 
have a v-mail here too from Francis (Hank) Brady, who says he run into Jim Thompson, who lived on 
N. Wabash St.  I find here, Hank, that John Eckman from Wabash has your same APO.  Hank says he 
has been sleeping in a hay- loft, which is much better than a snow drift, but that conditions are certainly 
terrible in Belgium.  Whole towns completely wrecked.  It is terrible.  Write again, Hank, and I hope 
your Bullatons catch up with you soon.  And, here is a letter from Lt. Max Brunn.  Says the B. comes 
thru pretty well on schedule and reports a new address of APO 513.  Max is in 606 Ord. Co. (AMM).  
He likes Belgium much better than France, and so do many more.  Send me some pictures, Max.  I find 
here nine fellows at APO 230, Myron Miller, Farra Aubertine, Bud Cowgill, Dick Cowles, Lloyd Ma- 
son, Robt. Martin, Morgan Vanlandingham, Fred Endres and James Pretorious.  Someplace in France, 
but exactly where I don't know.  Can anybody tell me?  And here is a letter from Clo dohse, a gunner on 
a bomber flying out of France at APO 140.  Clo has been on 14 missions so far, and has about 51 more 
to go.  Says every time he drops a bomb, he says to himself, "Well, Adolph, here's a little present from 
Wabash, Indiana."  O.K. Clo, ride it out.  You can't tell me anything about half pint Bridegroom as you 
call him, I know all about him.  As usual, Duke is about a step behind you.  Swell letter from Russell 
(Smiley) Enyeart from out in the Philippine area riding a motor torpedo boat, Sqd. 16 in fact.  Says, 
since he get his mail out of the Philippines, he has received more K Bullatons than any other mail.  Mi-  
ghty welcome.  Hates to read about all his old girls getting married.  Agrees that New Guinea women 
were impossible, but the Philippine women were good-looking, but after looking them all over, he says, 
"Give me those good old corn-fed girls from back in Indiana."  That's the spirit, Smiley.  Have you 
heard from Bob Sheppard lately?  I haven't.  Last I knew of Bob, he was in Florida although I did pick 
up his Brother, Vic's address a week or so ago.  Bob Clark, in a hospital in England, how are you com- 
ing along?  Write me, and you too Gene Stone.  Never a word from you.  Gene has been on one of the 
small seaplane tenders (AVP) out in the far Pacific for months.  His ship the Casco.  Want to hear from 
you Gene. Here's a letter from Wally Walters who is still worrying about my address.  Wally, half the 
mail I get is addressed, "HOMER T. Wabash, Indiana."  Now, what the devil would you want to put a 
street address on it for.  If it makes you fell better, the number of the street is 76 E. Canal Street but you 
don't need it.  Better lay off that Three Feathers and Paul Jones stuff.  Get you into plenty of trouble.  
You think the Kiwanis Club would drink that kind of stuff.  Better than half of them are deacons and 
Elders and three preachers in the bunch.  Of course, oh well, let's skip it.  Yes, Cecil Mills is the recre- 
ational director yet, and always will be, I suspect, best in the country.  And, here is one fine letter which 
should be read to the K club from Lt. Bruce Brubaker, USN, who says his LST 1024 made the landing 
on Lingayen Bay beach, and he sent me a paper printed on the beach which mentions the Modoc incid- 
ent.  Between Modoc and the Bullaton, the name and fame of this old burg is really spread around the 
world.  Now, gang, it's about train time, and it's midnight, and I got to quit this right now and beat it.  
But, keep up your courage, boys.  Don't let your imaginations or your fears get the best of you.  Most 
the things I have been scared of never happened.  You will ride it out.  Don't get reckless.  When you 
hear a shell whistle, dive for a hole right now.  Well, enough for tonight, and good luck.  Homer T. 
APRIL 3, 1945     
     I didn't attend Kiwanis today, and I missed it very much.  Somebody said that some guy came down 
from Ft. Wayne and made a speech, that it was very good, but that he didn't remember his name nor 
what his subject was.  Spring is in the air in Wabash, and the good brother fell asleep during the singing 
and never came to until the applause work him up.  I phoned our distinguished president, Ware Wimb- 
erly, and he is over at the church speaking to a group of women.  So I called his house, thinking it 
would be a good time to chat a little with Mrs. Wimberly, whom we are all found of, and me especially, 
but she was over to the church too (looking after her interests, I guess).  Anyway, they had a program 
and they had a lot of fun without a doubt this noon.  Next Sunday is Easter Sunday, and every Kiwanian 
and everyone of his kids should b e in Sunday School and church Sunday morning.  And especially this 
Easter.  All over this old troubled world, your kids and mine, are going to cast some misty eyes toward 
the old home, and wish he could be here to sit in church again with the folks, or get down to the young 
people's Sunrise Service.  What a wonderful thing those meetings were for the boys and girls.  They 
will never forget them.  Be back next Tuesday, Kiwanians.  Keep your attendance and your enthusiasm 
right at the top.
     Maybe I don't know poetry, but my advisors say the following poem from the pen of the now 
immoral G.T. Mahaney, (I mean, immortal, not immoral, or just what did I mean) is good enough for all 
to read as it contains, truth, fiction, a lesson in life and a suggestion of the hereafter.  Read it and weep.  
I laughed till I cried. 
A Wabash man well known to you                             So Joe set out to see the place,
Would be your old friend, Phil Eskew.                      Now that he'd been restored to grace,
He teaches out at Wabash High                                  And while he traveled, filled with awe,
And is a nice good-natured guy                                  The darnedest sight he ever saw
Who sometimes spins a yarn or two                           Took place before his very eyes.
That might produce a grin for you.                             He sat and watched it in surprise.

He told this one the other day:-                                   For there upon a little cloud
A fellow died and winged away                                  (Where parking harps was not allowed)
Towards Heaven's gates, but as he flew                     Two ancient gals were taking turns
He figured that he'd not get through                           At kicking hard each other's sterns.
Because on earth, with gin and dice,                           The one would bend down from the waist
He'd killed all hopes of Paradise.                                And when the "target" was in place
The life he'd led, passed in review                              The other, with a pointed shoe
As on he headed through the blue,                               Would boot her in the "sitter-roo."
The gals he'd wronged, the lies he'd told                     Then she in turn would bend down low
Should send him where it wasn't cold.                         And let the other fetch a blow.
Yep, there was certainly some mistake;
A guy like him Heaven wouldn't take.                         Old Joe watched this go on for hours
                                                                                       And marveled at the fannies' powers
But anyway, it was his fate                                            To take such punishment as that
To wind up there at Heaven's gate.                               (For neither one was very fat).
And even moreso was he shocked                                 It was just then Saint Pete came by,
To find the Pearly Gates unlocked.                                And Joe said, "Sir, I'm wondering why
                                                                                        These two old maids have lost their minds
So, sheepishly, he wandered in                                       And trade those kicks in their behinds."
A'burdened with his load of sin.
He stood there wondering what to do                             "They haven't lot their minds.  You see,
When Someone's voice said, "How are you?"               They're just as mad as they can be.
He turned, the pleasant voice to greet,                            They've done that now for nineteen years
And standing there was old Saint Pete.                           And, from their temper, it appears    
                                                                                         They'll never stop.  Why is this so?-
"My name is Joe," he said,- "Joe Bill;                             They're virgins, son, from Kokomo;
I came up here from Speicherville                                   They'd never in their lives been kissed
And I'm afraid there's something wrong'                        And all the fun on earth they missed.
I cannot see how I'd belong                                             And then when they arrived up here
Up here in Heaven.  If you'll just look                             Along about their eightieth year
In your big master record book                                         And learned that records are not kept,
You'll see that I broke every rule,-                                   For two whole nights and days they wept
On earth I was a sinnin' fool."                                          And then, with out a tear or wince,
      Saint Peter's face was one big grin;                                 They've kicked each other ever since."
     He patted Joe and said, "You're in;
     Just be at home, enjoy our cheer,-
     We don't keep record books up here."
          Well, boys time marches on.  Winter has gone and Spring is here.  The Court House lawn is green 
and smooth as velvet, and this being Spring vacation, I saw Sammy Butterbaugh, Joe Weaver, John 
Rockwell, Bill Marks, Bill Bowman and some more of those rough necks playing on the grass around 
old Abe Lincoln's statue.  One group was playing mumbley peg, but took time to yell when I drove 
past.  It won't be long, I am afraid until this gang will be following all of you, and while it don't seem to 
bother them, it makes me sick when they have to leave.  Now the big news of the week, the results of 
the USS Wabash Queen Contest have just come thru, and from the hundred and ten pictures sent to the 
ship, the selected Miss Dorothy Small the Queen of the Wabash, with Miss Lena Mae (Mike) Evans, the 
runner up, and the following, Martha Middleton, Donna Sweet, Phyllis (Pidge) Howard, Kathryn Gille- 
spie and Peggy Dawes as the attendants.  Didn't they do a swell job?  The girls are very happy, and 
everyone agrees that Dorothy Small will make a beautiful queen.  Although, just between us readers of  
the B., I can see Jim McVicker out there in that LST 208 in the Pacific, turn green with jealously, but 
don't worry Jim, the Queen is SIX thousand miles from that famous tanker.  Next, we take pictures of 
the Queen and her lovely corsage, or is it cortege, and mail them out to the boys.  A great stunt, a great 
treat for the crew of a great ship.  Long live the Queen and the ship USS Wabash, the news?  Plenty, 
boys.  Lt. Dick Baumbauer wins the Air Medal flying out of Italy over Germany.  Good boy.  It thrills 
me to think of how proud your Dad would have been could he have been here to have known.  Then too, 
Doc Pearson wins a Bronze Star for his care of the wounded on Luzon, where he serves with the 38th 
Inf. Containing thirty or forty of our Wabash boys.  Harold Howell and Verlin Haupt have been woun- 
ded on Luzon.  How bad, we don't know, but we do know that Doc Pearson took time to write the 
Howells not to worry, that he was looking after Harold.  Fine, Doc.  We are proud of you.  Doc Slegel- 
milch, too, has moved from New Guinea to the 7th Portable Hospital on Luzon with an APO 468.  Rem-  
ember that address, boys.  And Harry Bradley, on Harley Gamble's list, is back with Malaria from the 
Philippines for 45 days and is down at Camp Atterbury.  Drop in the office, Harley.  Then too, boys, 
Eddie Richee, is home from the Pac. after some 200 missions in a Navy Dive Bomber.  He is a tail 
gunner and radio man.  Looks swell.  Plenty of feminine hearts a-flutter in Wabash over his return.  
Came to Sunday School Sunday too, and I could tell he enjoyed it.  Great kid, Eddie is.  Eugene Cope- 
land is due home and I found out he is going to marry-attractive little Betty Lou Tate.  I saw the ring.  
And boys, old Bob Harvey, whose first baby I predicted 3 months ahead of schedule, now again is a 
proud papa and Mrs. Bob, who was Dorothy Harrell, is doing fine.  Haven't seen the baby yet.  And say, 
guess who else got married?  Garl Harrold and Shanny Sullivan.  He's a great guy, and Shanny is a 
knockout for sure.  O.K. kids.  You're young but you'll learn.  And Lt. Dean Durnbaugh of Roann wins 
the DFC.  Must be a great flyer, and certainly a lucky one.  Out of Italy over Germany.  Congratulations.  
Letter today from my kid, Charley.  His outfit has been moved from Galveston to Colorado Springs, 
Colo.  General Delivery gets him.  Took wife and young son and drove.  Has engine trouble, and had to 
sleep all night in the car.  I can hear him growling to himself when he had to park along one of those 
Texas highways, especially when he has Virginia and his little son (my second grandson, incidentally) 
with him.  Such is life.  Last week, Chaplin Bob Stone of Norfolk, Va. Navy Station learned that Hube 
Dubois of the USS Palona, was parked off the beach aways, got in touch with Hubert and invited him 
out to his house for dinner, which was most welcome.  I got your son, Tommy all fixed up with a big 
sand pile, and what a time he's having.  My oldest boy, Bob, now out on the end of the Aleutians at 
Amchitka, has one of the prettiest little black eyed girls you ever laid eyes on, and she is still smarter 
than she looks.  Coming over to play in Tommy's sand in a couple weeks.  Here I find Bill Delaplane at 
Navy 167, and we believe that is Luzon.  Luck Bill, Mrs. Bosch called me this week to tell me her hus-
band was stationed in China.  Hunt him up, Bob.  Great guy.  Here is a story for you.  Thru the aid of 
the Bullaton and its 1100 sources of info, the following all got together on Guam.  Ralph Owen, Frank 
McVicker, Johnny Faust, Jim Guthrie, Don Holmes, and Roy Denton.  They spent hours together and 
according to Jim Guthries letter, they were all meeting Bob Simons on last Sunday, March 25th.  Did 
you do it boys?  Tell me about it.  Jim Guthrie was so happy he could hardly write about it.  And, boys, 
after all our jokes, and our poetry, and after all the Bull is slung, the big thing about this sheet is that 
hundreds of boys from Wabash have seen other fellows they knew back home.   That alone is worth all 
the work we do in getting it out.  Say, you birds on Guam, I have just been told that Lt. Richard Hilde- 
brand is based on the island with the 218 M.A.G. 14 Marine air Wing.  Maybe, you can find him too.  
This Guthrie boy is smart and knows his way around.  He has a jeep to travel in too.  Use your heads 
and get together.  Here is something else.  Jim Minnear is located at APO 339 with the Med. Gas Tr. Br. 
And at the same number I find Jim Sailors, Jean Stoops, Dick Stubbs, Charles Holley, Russell Eppley, 
Paul Myers and Loren Leach.  Surely you boys can contact each other.  Anybody wanting complete 
addresses, I will furnish them.  By the way, I had a grand letter from Paul Meyer, former Roann boy, 
who loves to get the Bullaton, and that isn't all he loves either. Says the girls in Belgium and even in 
Germany are beautiful, but there is a little girl over at the ration board that looks better to him than any 
of them.  So I stopped in to meet "Phyllis", and I don't blame him.  Phyllis (what the devil is her last 
name?) I can't think of it, but I made her awfully happy when I showed her your letter, young fellow.  
You spoke about plaster falling on your writing paper, from the jar of a big 105.  You'll never believe 
this, but when I read you statement, I rubbed my finger over the paper, and there was some white dust 
still on the paper.  I am coming to the end of this harange, boys, and I have so much more to tell you 
including letters from Robt. Bear, one here that Howard Halderman received from St. jack Walter and 
twenty more.  Just keep writing boys, and when you change addresses let me know.  Remember, fel- 
lows, that Wabash is back of you, pretty far back, it's true but you are going to be back after while, and 
you will have a long time to forget and also to live your lives as you see fit.  G'night.  Homer T. 
APRIL 24, 1945 
     And once more we gathered round the festive board, and we had STEAK.  No kidding, real steak, the 
first I have seen in months, must have raided someone's cold storage box.  And it was good.  Those 
Presbyterian women are all right.  They can't help it that their folks were dyed in the wool Presbyter- 
ians.  The program was good today, Robert (Bob) Hoffman, the local Hoffman's Gardens proprietor, 
made the talk on shrubs and trees, and he was very good.  We are sure the young man will do very well 
in the future.  Now. I hate to do it, but I must tell you about the basketball game.  Now, I hate to do it, 
but I must tell you a s last week.  Kiwanis really beat Rotary right into the floor, had them panting and 
groggy, and then the Rotary referee went to calling fouls on Kiwanians for a lot of little things like 
Lawrence Gaunt kicking Butch Howard in the face, when Butch layed down to rest.  At the end of six 
minutes, the game was a tie, 7 all, and in the overtime, Rotary pitched a fowl and won the game.  The 
Exchange game was a riot with the Lions rolling the Exchange around over the floor.  The Exchange 
won with Johnny Tatum's ruff tactics, and then the Exchange proceeded to swamp the Rotary boys.  
The Rotary members who played were wheeled out in wheel chairs after the fracas.  I didn't see the 
fracas, but several told me about it, and I hope I got it straight.  It must have been a lot of fun.
     A little while ago, as I left the Fire Station, I said to the fire boys, "Any of you guys got any clean 
stories?"  Eddie Baer, the Clark Gable of the fire department, came thru with this one which is clean 
enough for you boys.  It seems that down here on West Canal Street, there were two brooms standing in 
a corner.    They weren't such old brooms, and it was apparent that they were very fond of each other.  
Finally, one broom noticed a little whisk broom hanging over on the opposite wall.  He eyed it for a 
while and then said, "I wonder who the little broom could be.  Surely it can't be ours."  Shyly, and with 
a twinkle in her eye, the other broom said, "Oh, that can't be.  We haven't even swept together yet."  
You know that fire department is not a bad crowd.  Every Friday, I take in some five hundred Bullatons 
that are mailed from my own office, and they fold them, stick them, stamp them, and they are mailed on 
time.  That happens every Friday without fail.  Bill Delaplane in the County Agent's Office and his 
steno, Betty Davis, work all day on Wednesday running thru 1400 of these sheets on both sides.  That is 
a job, believe me.  Then the following Tuesday, I take some 700 Bullatons up to Kiwanis and the Kiwa- 
nians mail them out to those on their lists at their own expense.  Yes, it's a swell stunt for both the boys 
in service and the K Club as well, and the letters that come back from you boys in service more than 
justify any little effort we put forth.  Want some more stories?  But, first, fellows, Bud's poem last week 
on the Passing of the Out House, I find is similar to one that James Whitcomb Riley did write, with a 
little different title.  Charley Shroyer mailed it to me today, and I have written James Whitcomb Riley to 
get his consent to print it next week.  Then you can compare them, and I believe Bud's is really the best.  
Let me know what you think.  Stories?  Let's see-Yea, here's a story that is floating around town here 
on one of our old bachelors, who thinks he is quite a boy., but it must have all been in his head because 
here is what happened.  I'll call him "Mr. Blank" as I don't want any hard feelings.  He eats at one of 
the local restaurants, and every noon when he pays his check, he asks the gal behind the counter for a 
date.  Finally one day she came back at him.  "Look here Mr. Blank," she says, "I'm just going to take 
you up on that.  The girls of our club are going to give a dance at the Eagles.  Each of us has to bring a 
man.  How about you coming with me?"  "Well, now, honey" our local Batch hedges a bit, "I'm not so 
young as I used to be and I'm kinda slow on the up beat."  "Oh that's all right," she assured him and 
added, "all of us know there's a war on."  So Mr. Blank went and what's more had a real good time.  
There were so many fathers and grandfathers there it was like a Spanish-American War Veterans' 
convention.  He takes her home around about midnight and at the front door thanks her profusely for a 
pleasant evening.  "That was real fun," says the old Batch, "I'd like to do something for you some 
time."  "Oh, that's all right," replies the gal.  "Maybe you can."  "Let's make it definite.  How about 
dinner and a dance down at the city soon?" "Well, no thanks," she replies and her tone of voice implied 
her reason.  "I guess not."  "Well then, how about a little gift of some sort?  Any thing special you'd 
like?"  She pondered then, "That's an awful nice pocket knife you've got.  Can I have it?"  "Sure thing," 
says Mr. Blank, "but it's kinda big and heavy for a girl."  "Oh, I don't want it for myself," the gal comes 
right back.  "But I'd like to have one like that around handy in case I meet a big boy scout.  You'd be 
surprised what a boy scout will do for a good pocket knife."
     Now let's go to press on the latest news from Wabash and from the many fronts all the way from the 
Aleutians down across the Philippines, over into China and Burma, and India, Iran, Iraq, Africa, Italy, 
France, Germany, England all over the world.  Truly the Sun never sets on the sons of Wabash.  They 
are everywhere, and only recently got the names of a couple that we believe are on Okinawa, and that is 
Wayne Chapman and John Magner.  May I say that we are all hoping and praying that things will crack 
up completely in German, and that Japan won't last long.  Here's the big news in town.  Clo Dohse fol- 
lowing in the footsteps of Ding Durnbaugh is now a proud papa.  Yep, the baby, an 8 pound boys, black 
headed, black eyed, a whale of a kid, was born yesterday noon at the hospital, and the mamma, the for- 
mer Betty Hickey, is doing nicely, the nurse says, What a kid he should be.  And wait till Duke Bride- 
groom hears of this.  Seriously, Clo and Betty, all the boys will be happy for you, I'm sure, as you are 
both so well liked in Wabash.  By the way they named him Michael Roland.  Can't figure who they 
named him after unless it might be Mike Collings, the mail man, who was a friend of everyone.  Last 
week, I told you about Dorin Alexander having her appendix out.  She's back home again, and feeling 
fine.  Thot you would like to know.  Many interesting things happen in connection with our Bullaton 
fans.  Recently, Past Governor Jack Rhoads mailed me this letter "Dear Homer:- My name had to be 
taken off the mailing list for the Bullaton for me to find out that my entire household was reading it, and 
they have raised such a clamor for it that I am enclosing my check for $5.00.  Please put my name back 
of the mailing list, and if this isn't enough money, just let me know."  Thanks, Jack, Sure glad you like 
it.  Letters?  Yes, lots of them.  I especially like this letter from Chaplain Bob Stone, who is to be found 
at the Christ's Chapel, Naval Air Station, Norfolk, Virginia.  He says the latch string is out for all Wab- 
ash boys.  His home address is 521 Hyde Park Road, Norfolk, Va.  He recalls the time during the Cent- 
ennial that the Kiwanis Club here put on panties and brassieres and rode bicycles in the parade.  I'll ne- 
ver forget it.  Neither will Howard Halderman, Homer Hoover or John Beamer.  That was something.  
Nice letter here from R.M. Turschman, EM 1/C on the USS Vulcan, always looking for the boys from 
home but never sees any of them.  Remember his ship, boys, and give him a surprise one of these days.  
Jerry Jontry, wrote the Wash in the Plain Dealer for Jeanne Grover last week, and it was a scream. Eve-  
rybody got a bang out of it.  Then today in Kiwanis, Ware Wimberly read a letter from jerry, which was 
another knockout.  He is on the USS Lovering away out on the other side of the Pac., and likes it fine,-
back in Wabash, Indiana.  Leonard Tyner, the county clerk, had a wonderful letter from Clyde Smith, 
"Smitty," the boy who used to mop my office, and help Howard Hutchens, in which he says that he saw, 
the first American flag raised over Iwo Jima, and is very proud of the way the American boys handle 
every situation that confronts them.  I read the letter to the Kiwanis Club today, and they thot it great.  
Also one from Dick Tewksbury over in Belgium, the fullback that played in Paris, and made history for 
Wabash over there.  He had met several boys from Wabash, Harry Forbes, among others.  I would like 
to hear from that tall, gangling red head.  Here is a newspaper sketch, to of them, telling about Lt. Bake- 
horn, flying a Liberator, over Germany, and the gas line breaking, and the whole crew lost conscious- 
ness from the fumes, except the tail gunner, who crawled up thru the ship when he guessed that some- 
thing was wrong, and opened the windows.  The fresh air revived the pilot and the crew and they righted 
the big ship at a thousand feet after falling some twelve thousand feet.  And here is another about Rex 
Anderson in a PT boat exploit whereby he is awarded a bronze star for valor last tall around Biak and 
Numfoor.   It seems he led his group into a bay lined with enemy ships and was fired at by machine gun 
and shore batteries, but continued on in the face of the firing and shoots up a lot of ships.  Congrats, 
Rex.  Since then, he was home, got married, and is now at Miami Beach, Florida.  A letter here from 
G.N. McVicker says to tell the boys in Hirohito's backyard not to worry about food now.  "McVicker is 
back on the job."  He is on the supply ship, USS Allegan.  Keep that in mind, gang.  Here's one from 
Fred Hinkle from APO 629 from Assam.  Says where he is that they don't keep elephants in the Zoo.  
They work them in the fields.  Rains all the time, and is miles from any town.  Says the B. reaches him 
but sure takes its time getting there, but better late than never.  Here is a card from Mrs. Delores Buehler 
Ande54rson, who says Don is receiving the B. all right but round about.  They live at Belcamp Hotel in 
Belcamp, Md. And are sure anxious to see some one from home.  Some of you guys in Aberdeen, why 
don't you run over to the Hotel and see Don and his wife.  Maybe Delores is a good cook, if she can get 
anything to cook.  Here is Bob Barnett's new address.  He is on the USS Beatty DD756.  Watch for that 
number and let me know when you see him.  Getting Wabash boys together is the biggest thrill I get out 
of this thing.  I would like for some of you boys in Germany to get me some stationery out of the May- 
or's office of Berlin, or any other of those cities over there.  What a kick I would get out of that.  Had a 
swell letter from my very good friend, George Jolly, from Germany.  From the tone of his letter, George 
hasn't changed a bit.  And will I be anxious to see him.  Letters keep coming from Arthur Overaa, and 
the boys in the S.S. class get a big kick from them.  He goes to the Easter services in the Hollywood 
Bowl.  Art, if you're that close to Hollywood why don't you hunt up Harry J. Hutchens at 11541 Chiq- 
uita St. No. Hollywood, Calif.  Hutch is a great fellow and married Jane Stewart, a sister of the famous 
Marjorie.  Meet them all as you go, Arthur, don't overlook anything.  Lots of funny things happen to 
this Bullaton.  Here is a letter to George Crossland, the big Chief of all Scouting in this area, from a fel- 
low at APO 256 France by the name of Wallace Huffman.  In the letter he tells Crossland that he reads 
the Wabash Keewanus Bullaton that is received by a fellow from Wabash, who works in the Hospital 
PX, whose name is Lawrence Reed.  Says the B. is some paper.  Tells of seeing French Boy Scouts pla- 
ying along a stream in Fr. And tells Crossland that Scouting is a wonderful thing.  And it sure is.  Glad 
you read our Wabash paper, Pvt. Wallace Huffman.  Pay us a visit sometime when you get back.  I am 
sure Lawrence Reed will show you this copy of the B.  And, what a perfectly swell letter from Mark 
Ashley from APO 444.  Doesn't say where he is, but it must be Fr. Or Germany.  Says the B. arrived 
ahead of them and was very welcome.  Sure it gets there ahead of you if you all give me your temporary 
APO's right away, when you first get them.  Well, here we are, and I'm out of space and have to quit.  
Talk too much, I guess.  Keep writing, and watch the hard liquor and wild women.  They're no good for 
you.  Homer T. 
APRIL 10, 1945
What!  Not another week rolled around again.  Time is traveling so fast I can't keep up with it, maybe 
that's why I am staying so young and the rest of you fast moving boys are getting fat, grey and wrink- 
led.  That is a laugh, isn't it?  Well, today we met, sang and ett, and what a feed.  Our guest, or rather 
Bill Wright's guest, Major Frank Van Wyck (what is that name Holland or Dutch?) expressed al our 
sentiments on the good food.  Then Milo read a swell eulogy on the death of J. Raymond Schutz.  The 
club adopted it as a resolution from the club.  Raymond Schutz was completely in a class by himself.  
Brilliant, well-read, thousands of personal acquaintances, he was a marvelous man.  I sure hate to see 
Raymond Schutz pass away.  It is a big loss to the community where he l8ived, to his family, and to the 
country.  They aren't any more just like he was.  One week this winter, I attended three meetings in Ind- 
ianapolis, and heard altogether 28 speeches during the week, most of which were made by big shots 
from everywhere.  The only speech that thrilled, stimulated, and impressed me was the one by Raymond 
Schutz.  And among all his other experiences, and activities, runs one thread that I like to think about.  
No matter where he went, from Denver to New York, Atlanta to Seattle, he always managed to get 
back, and preach right on schedule at that little Brethren Church in Manchester.  Feet on the ground, and 
his eyes on the horizon, seeing and hearing things the rest of us knew nothing about.  Kiwanis every- 
where will miss him.  Let me call you attention to the critical illness of Judge Walter Bent in the Meth- 
odist Hospital in Indianapolis.  His folks tell me that at this writing he is feeling better, but is very 
critically ill.  We hope for his speedy recovery and let's send him some cards or write Walter a letter.  
He will enjoy them, I'm sure.  Ernie Clark, from the American Rock Wool, talked to us today, and, 
while he is no William Jennings Bryan, he makes a good talk, and is a swell fellow.  I like him better 
everytime I meet him, and I like his wife, and that big family of kids he has up on N. Cass St.  Nice 
meeting, and next week we entertain the B.B. team.  What a chore that will be.
     Here are a flock of stories that Floyd "Mac" Hartman mailed own from the Light Office that the girls 
up there had heard and liked.  They are a little tame, but after all, boys, these girls address several 
hundred Bullatons for us each week, and they must have their fun too.
     There was a young lady from Brussels
          Who was accused of wearing two bustles
She said, "It's not true,
     It's a thing I don't do
You're simply observing large muscles."

"Where does this inviting shady lane lead to?" asked the motorist.
Without moving from his contented rest upon the fence, the farmer launched a jet of tobacco juice with 
deadly effect upon a grasshopper ten feet away, then scratched his stubbled chin thoughtfully.  "Well, 
stranger," he drawled, "It's led mor'n half the young folks around these parts into a right smart heap o' 

When asked by the cop why she didn't have a red light on her car, Jane replied that it wasn't that kind of 

Several men were traveling by train.  Presently one produced a large fruit cake, which he devoured 
Time passed.  Suddenly he began groaning and doubling himself up and straightening out again.  When 
this had gone on for some time, a friend asked him:
"Smatter, Jim?"
"That cake I ate," groaned the sufferer.  "It had nuts, and I think the missus forgot to shell them."
"Lor'!" said his friend.  "And you can crack em just by bending?"

Blonde:  "is he a nice boy?"
Red Head:  "No, dear, you'll like him."

"As I understand the case," said his honor, "You and your husband had a drunken altercation and you 
were kicked in the rumpus."
"No, sah, Judge," replied Mandy, "Ah was kicked in de stummick."

A sailor was cast away on a desert island.  After he had been there nine years, he awoke one morning 
and saw a lovely girl floating to the beach on a barrel.  The barrel washed ashore and the girl 
approached.  "Heigh ho," said she, "and how long have you been here?"
"Nigh on to ten years," said the sailor.
"Gracious," she said, "then I shall give you something you certainly haven't had in a long time."
"Bust my leg!" cried the sailor, "don't tell me you got beer in that barrel."

Rastus was arrested during the Prohibition days and at his trial the lawyer was trying to pin something 
on him.  "Rastus, do you mean to say you never got any liquor out at Jake's?"  "No, suh."  "Did you 
ever get anything from his son John?"  "No, suh, Boss, I didn't."  "Well how about his daughter Lydia-
did you ever get anything from her?"  "You mean liquor, Judge?"
     Hello, gang, how did you like that poetry of Mahaney's last week.  Well, I got another one that is 
still classier than that one, but I'm saving it til next week.  Say, fellows, you all know Bill Myers, the 
barber.  This is too good to keep although Bill will brain me.  The other day Sterling Staver had a call
From back in the Jail that one of the prisoners wanted a haircut, so the sheriff told Jack Dale, the Bailiff, 
to get in touch with Bill Myers, the barber, and get him to come up long enough to cut the man's hair.  
So Jack called Bill and Bill hated to come up, as Bill has a lot of moneyed customers like Doc Whisler 
these days, and yet he has always cut hair at the jail so he told Jack "all right, I'll come up at one 
o'clock."  Jack unlocked the big iron door and let Bill in with his scissors and clippers, and asked Bill 
when he should return.  "Twenty minutes on the dot.  Got a lot of customers waiting at the shop."  
"O.K." says Jack, and locked the door.  Well, of course, you know what happened.  Jack went back up 
to the Court House, sat down in that big easy chair in the Sheriff's Office and dropped off to sleep.  The 
phone rang at twenty minutes to three and Jack woke up.  "My Gosh," he said, "I forgot all about Bill 
Myers down there in Jail."  He rushed down there and sure enough, there was old Bill, red in the face, 
and hoarse from yelling, trying to get out of the jail.  Couldn't make anybody hear, and he was frantic 
with losing all the business at the shop.  Of course, they let him out, but after this when Bill Myers cuts 
hair in the Jail, the key to the door will be in his pocket.  Many a time Bill should have probably been in 
Jail, but Bill didn't figure he rated it this time.  Tonight the Senior Play is being staged at the Eagles 
while I'm sitting here hammering on the old typewriter.  You younger fellows will be glad to know 
Charles Scheer was home over the weekend.  Strange thing too was that Joan Rettig was home from 
Indiana U. at the same time.  Merely a coincidence-or was it?  Charley is in a Naval Aviation School in 
Memphis.  Also, I saw Bob Little in town.  He and Betty (Martin) his wife were having pictures taken 
of little two months old Linda.  Sweet little kid.  The mamma is sweet too.  Bob is at Key Field, Miss.  
Here's a swell letter from Lt. Jack Mathers, a Pilot on a transport plane,  He was in on the invasion of 
Holland, and found out in a couple days time that the "Jerries mean business."  He has hauled out 
wounded soldiers, and supplies back to them.  Nice country but no place like home.  Sends regards to all 
the boys over the world/  O.K. Jack, you're a great guy.  Wonder how Fats Harrold and "Old Hutch" 
Gene Hutchens are getting along on the USS Doyon.  Last I heard, Fats had gained 17 pounds as Hutch 
is the cook on the same boat, and was overfeeding him.  Eugene Hutchens was in the old S.S. class 
twenty years ago, and is old enough to be Fats' father.  The boys from Wabash take care of each other.  
Am anxious to hear about the big party the Wabash boys were having on Guam last Sunday.  12 of them 
were getting together.  Johnny Hawley, by the way, injured in Burma, a busted leg, is being flown back 
to the States, and was due in Miami Sunday night.  John's father says that the infantry unit that saved 
Johnny outfit from capture or annihilation a the time John was injured, had one Wabash boy in it, Ralph 
Barnhouse.  It's quite a story.  Not room enough here for it.  Luck to you Ralph, and you too, John 
Hawley.  Say, while I'm thinking of it, if any of you guys out in the Hawaiians on west to the far Pacific 
ever see that tanker "USS Wabash", fight your way on board, and see the pictures of your old Wabash 
girls.  Over a hundred of them on the walls of the mess room, but don't start any fights I shipped three 
more boxes to them yesterday and have two more boxes of gifts ready to go, as well as a Euke, a Banjo, 
and a Guitar.  Those boys on the USS WABASH  really believe in Santa Claus.  Don't you boys?  
Here's a V-mail from Phil Magner from APO 781 who says he is in the same company with Ted 
Martin.  Also that Wabash is rapidly getting famous.  Some bird from some place told Phil, when he 
found out he was from Wabash, that he had heard many a time that Wabash was the "most beautiful city 
in the world."  Phil asked him where he heard that, and he said he was in the same outfit for a long time 
with a Lt. By the name of J. Lippold, and he told him all about it.  Write again, Phil.  Hello, Bill Leach.  
Bill is up to his old tricks again.  Sent me a coin from Luzon and also a ten dollar bill.  The coin I keep 
for a pocket piece, and the bill I will hand out to some drunk in police court for change.  Bill is a 1st Sgt. 
And a great guy.  Sent me wonderful pictures of natives from New Guinea.  Wish I had some pictures 
from some of you boys in the Philippines, or over in India.  Anything any of you fellows want to send in 
the way of pictures I will keep here on the walls of the office, and return to you after you come home if 
you want me too.  LET'S HAVE SOME PICTURES. You boys all tell about the beautiful Belgium 
girls.  Let's see some of them.  WAIT A MINUTE.  The phone just rang and Mrs. Hartman was on the 
line to tell me that Ernie, now in Belgium, is the papa today of an 8 pound girl, only he don't know it 
yet.  Ernie, married Eloise Thompson.  The baby has been named Cynthia Ann.  I asked who the baby 
looked like, and Mrs. Hartman said Cynthia was crying when she saw her, and just then she probably 
looked more like her grandpa, H.D. (Goldie) Hartman than anybody else.  Goldie as we all call him in 
Wabash, has just been appointed one of the Highway Commissioners of Indiana, a wonderful position, 
and a fine reward for his splendid record as the City Engineer of Wabash.  This baby business is going 
to tickle him, and the other Grandpa, Lloyd Thompson is going to buy me a cigar as it is his first grand- 
child.  By the way, tomorrow, I am going to check up on some more of these "events."  You boys work 
almost too fast for me to keep up with.  By the way, bob Sheppard was home some time ago, and I just 
had a letter from him down in Miami Beach.  He says something happened while he was home that I 
ought to know about, but, he isn't going to tell me.  That's O.K., Bob, I will find out in a day or so after 
my public in Wabash reads this sheet, and then I will tell all the boys about it.  I hope she is a nice girl, 
and I am sure she will be.  You call our paper the "Bull Sheet."  Now, could it be-no, you couldn't mean 
that.  Here is a letter I wish I could print, nine pages long, telling about what happed to Jim Reynolds, 
Chet's boy, when he crossed the equator.  Fish oil, paddles, haircuts, the whole works, he sure got it 
right.  Now he is a "shell back." Peach of a letter.  Sunday morning, Howard Sundheimer from the P.O. 
left a letter at the house that he found in the mail he had just sorted.  It was from Pfc. Roy Cover from a 
US Army Hospital Plant #4316 APO 887, and it was a swell letter thanking me and the K Club again 
for the Bullaton and telling me how the other boys liked to read it.  That is swell, and passing it along 
the beds thru the hospital is just what you should do with it, if it makes the boys want to pick up their 
beds and walk.  To have them laugh and enjoy this thing, is the finest compliment you can pay me.  I 
wish all you fellows who find your way into hospitals would pass them along to the other boys.  One 
boy from Great Lakes told me that after he let loose his bullaton in his hospital, that he could follow it 
around the rooms by the laughter from the beds.  Fine, just what we want.  Well, for tonight, boys, I am 
out of space.  Goodnight, and we will be seeing you before long.  Homer T.  
MAY 1, 1945
     Another top notch meeting today with the best raisin pie I have eaten in a long time, nice flaky, white 
crust, and real raisins.  (I can hear those boys out on Luzon or Okinawa swear when the read this.)  But 
it is worth mentioning, and which ever lady baked those pies, knew her dough and her raisins.  Then 
Gene Weesner gets up and leads out on the discussion of the San Francisco conference.  That is when I 
keep still, because I don't read much except funny papers, and the letters from the boys, and I know 
they don't know much about the Dumb Barton Oaks.  So I kept still but the discussion was good.  We 
are all for an everlasting peace (which reminds me of a story) but not many of us know how to get it.  
We only recognize the fact we cannot have another war in ten or twenty years, and our best brains must 
work at the problem for years.   The attendance today was very good, but we did miss Ware Wimberly 
and Virg Tetrick who were in a K meeting in Ft. Wayne today noon.  Letters were read from the boys, 
and some pictures passed around.  We are now printing 1400 Bullatons each week, and you Kiwanians 
are doing a swell job of mailing, and I know you get a tremendous bang from the letters you are contin- 
ually reading from the boys you sponsor.  Don't fail to get your copies each week and see they are 
     Say, I can't find that copy of Riley's "Passing of the Backhouse" around here anyplace, so it will 
wait till next week, but I do have a supply from Pfc. Theron Burnsworth, who signs his letter "Burney."  
His letter is clever in which he says the Bullaton is always highly welcome not only to himself but by 
other Hoosiers from Indianapolis, Ft. Wayne, and other cities and towns.  That is swell, and just what 
we want.  He horses a big gripe for the 4F's and the D.D.'s back home, and finally gives me the slogan 
over where they are across the Pacific, "Golden Gate in 48.  Breadline in 49."  Well, maybe, but my 
guess is by 49 the bread will be so closely rationed that no one would or could stand in line long enough 
to make it worth while.  Here's some of his poems and stories and they're good. 
The GI tent out in the jungle
Is now our home sweet home
Four bunks lined up on it's sloping sides
Where mosquito bars are hung
A mess kit dangles from a post
Attractive to ants
And the first thing each morning
There's a lizard in you'r pants
In the evening when the sun goes low
We walk of the old home town
And of the fun we had in school
And all the gals we got around with
If we could but be back there now
It would be a great sensation
But hold on there "Buddy.  Remember-
We're here for the duration…."
On we pay no rent
In a New Guinea tent
And laundry is no chore
We bask all day
In a tropical sort of way
And gaze on the beautiful shores, without a wife.
But wishing we could squeeze her
Where coconut trees, sway in the breeze
And drop coconuts on your beezer
We eat and eat, while the wind goats bleat,
And none of us ever get skinney
This is just the life, who needs a wife?
Hell, we've found a home in "NEW GUINEA…"
Soft winds whispering
Through the palm frond trees
Palm silver moon
Over shinning seas
Golden skinned island gals
Charming naive,
Lolling with GI's
In contented ease
That's the bright picture
You civilians sees
     Wonderful isn't it, Are you kidding? 
                 "ME MUDDER"
When my nitely prayers are said
Who tucks me in my widdle bed
And spanks me till my butt is red.
                  ME MUDDER.
Who would lift me from my cozy cot
And sit me on me ice cold pot
And make me "pee" if I could or not
                  ME MUDDER.
And when the morning light did come
In me widdle crib I'd piddled some
Then who would wipe and powder me little "bun"
                  ME MUDDER.
Who does my hair so neatly part
And press me gently to her heart
And sometimes squeeze me till I'd fart
                  Only ME MUDDER.
Every soldier has an angel by his side
When he marches off to war
Where the guns and cannons roar
"Every soldier has an angel by his side."
Whether marching to a band
Or all alone in no-man's land
"Every soldier has an angel by his side."
She may be his sweet-heart, or his wife so fair
His mother or his sister
But someone is always there
Land or sea, near or far
Makes no difference where you are
"Every soldier has an angel by his side."
Aunt Sarah was very romantic on their golden wedding anniversary, so she took Uncle Henry to that old 
cabin back in the hills, where they had spent their first married night together.  She got all ready for bed, 
the turned to Henry and said; "just think, Henry, we were in this same room, in this same bed, just like 
we were fifty years ago.  Why you were so anxious to make love to me, you couldn't hardly wait till I 
got my shaw off…"  Uncle said "Yes; Sarah, but tonight you'll have time to knit yourself one…"
      Hello gang, everywhere, here we go again.  How these weeks do roll around back here on the Home 
Front, but we're still pitchin'.  And our efforts are feeble in comparison to yours.  Tonight we read whe- 
re you are putting the old squeeze on the Germans, and we read of Luzon and Okinawa, and the terrific 
fighting there, and we hope with you, it won't be long.  There are too many of our finest Wabash boys 
paying the extreme price.  I hate to tell you, but you tell me you want to know.  This last week, there 
were three deaths reported, Max Stevens, a lead Bombadier in the Red Raiders big bomber group flying 
out of the Philippines, Francis (Hank) Brady, over in Germany, and Lew Williams, of Lagro, who died 
in a hospital in the Pacific.  Most of you fellows knew these boys.  Stevens and Williams were both pro- 
ducts of Manchester College.  All three were swell fellows, who will never be forgotten.  Max's wife 
with her two months old baby live at 317 N 28th St., San Antonio, Texas.  Recently she wrote such a 
beautiful poem for the Bullaton dedicated to their little son.  Lt. Leroy Fierstos, recently reported  mis-
sing in action is located in a hospital in France.  Now for some good news.  Lt. Bill Barrett now in adv- 
anced training as a flier, hit the front pages by making a grade of 100% in the PFR of the Air Forces.  
Out in California he won a trophy for his performance in running, sit ups, chin ups shuttle race, 100 yd. 
Dash, and this time, the Hobbs, N.M. newspaper claims it has never been done before on any field.  
Good going, Bill, we are all proud of you especially, Ma, Pa, and Mary Beth.  Another thing that ple- 
ases me is that Harry Bradley is home after spending 38 months in the S. Pacific.  Needless to say, that 
his little girl, who wasn't born yet when he left the country, didn't know her Dad but they are getting 
acquainted.  Then, too, Harley Sutton, who wrote me several letters from Indian is at home and happy 
once more, after the darndest bunch of experiences as an Air Commando.  Bob Fraustein just got home 
too, and brot along some trophies, among them a Jap revolver, taken from a cave someplace out there.  
Incidentially, more boys are being taken all the time in the draft, and a good many from the farms.  The 
biggest bang I get is where our Wabash men meet.  Verling Weesner just located Doc Bob LaSalle in a 
hospital 3 miles up the mountainside at Florence, Italy, and only 15 minutes from Weesner.  Doc rece- 
ntly had a visit from Dean Swan.  Let's hear from you, Verling.  I find here too, that Dr. Arthur Rhamy 
and Oliver G. Miller are both on the USS Essex.  If any of you birds see these ships I mention, always 
let me know.  Haven't heard from Roy Cover lately.  He's in a hospital.  Please write.  And boys, here is 
something we have been waiting for.  Bob Bridegroom who married pretty little Dorothy Fingerle, is a 
proud papa of a fine baby girl.  They have named the baby Cheryl Ann, and just one week behind Clo 
Dohse, whose baby I told you about last week.  No wonder Duke and Clo know so much about the other 
fellow's business.  They must have been running around together when they were home last summer.  
Anyhow, congratulations.  I will see the young lady one of these days and tell you how she looks.  Let-  
ters?  One from Carl Lower, S 1/C on the SSJS Hutchinson out in the P.  Would like to run across Bud 
Price out there some place, and I sure hope you do.  He has an APO 32 and in the F.A.  yes, lots of us 
are going to miss Bill's smile, when the war is done.  Don't worry about your girl back here.  I am kee- 
ping my eye on her for you.  Reminds me again of what Freddie Hoeffer wrote me, "Keep your eye on 
my wife, but keep your hands off of her."  They're safe enough.  Here another letter from Bill Guernsey.  
Yes, I got you mixed with your brother, Wayne.  Keep writing.  Sam and Will Mabee have landed on 
Okinawa, and I have here a fine letter from Sam, written to bob Smith and mailed to me.  Tells about 
the natives, as he calls them hiding in caves, dressed in kimonas.  Plenty of bombing, they are getting, 
Sam says, and he has a cave for a hiding place that is full of skeletons.  It seems that the Japs store the 
bones of their ancestors in these caves, and go in and worship them.  Excuse me for sleeping in a cave 
full of bones.  Plenty of luck, Sam.  Give your brother the regards of all of us.  I read your letter today in 
K. meeting.  Letter from Albert Weesner from APO 133 and mailed to John Beamer.  Very appreciative 
of the B. would like to see some guys from Wabash.  I have one other APO 133 and that is Lt. Jack Ma-
thers, a pilot of a transport plane.  Maybe you can meet him, Albert.  Jack's a swell kid.  Used to be in 
the old S.S. class.  Say, haven't heard a word yet from bob Sloop.  What the heck?  Give the old man a 
letter.  Bob left for the Navy a couple months ago, and not a word.  Here's a good letter from Bill Trisler 
in Navy V8 Barracks 36 at State College, Pa.  Says "all's well" and that Bud Mahaney's poems go thru 
the barracks like wildfire.  Sure they would.  They're red hot.  But old Bud is covered up.  They took his 
hard working secretary to the hospital last week for an operation and now Bud has to really work.  Cecil 
Ann Bowman is recovering rapidly, and as soon as she is back, Bud will wax poetic again, I hope. Swell  
letter here from Pfc John Rantz.  Fine fellow, from Roann now in France, at APO 513.  Hey, John, I 
find Max Brunn, Donald McDaniel, and Karless Dohse.  Karless is at the 178th General Hospital, and 
that is the same hospital where Clo Dohse is layed up with a bum leg.  Go on down and find them, John, 
and let me know when you do.  There are four swell fellows from Wabash for you to meet.  They sure 
got together on Guam.  A letter here from Bob Simons says they have now rounded up 12 soldiers and a 
nurse from Roann, and were all getting together.  Hope you all do write me one big letter when you cel- 
ebrate.  Plenty of girls left around here, for all you boys who aren't married when you get back.  S/Sgt. 
Lamoine Burkholder at APO 452, with an Airborne outfit, what they call Glider Infantry, tells a graphic 
story of one mission.  I can't describe it to you here, but I don't want any of that in mine.  Moine says 
his mouth was full of cotton, or at least very dry.  I don't doubt it.  Ever see Charley Hettmansperger?  
Same APO as you have.  Say, I did miss the fact that Moine's wife, living in Peru, had a baby, 7 ½ 
pounds, named Sherry Kay, on March 6th.  That is swell.  Tell your wife to drop into the office some- 
day.  Here's a letter from Jim McVicker on that LSM 208.  Tells me he was in the invasion of (and the 
darned censor cut it our) but he tells about wearing an overcoat at night, and that sounds like Okinawa, 
Jim?  Can that be right?  See where you met Val Potterf, who used to work for Roy Wertenberger while 
you were in Hawaii.  One more letter here from Lt. Dick Logan,  the medic from APO 454.  Paul Barrett 
is there too, and Dick gives me Paul's address.  Already had it Dick.  Bud Cloud is also there at that 
same APO.  Bud, get busy.  Now, darn it, my space is gone again, and I haven't got a good start tonight.  
Just keep writing me, boys, and I'll keep you informed.  Homer T.   
MAY 8, 1945
     Yes, we met, et, belched, sang and listened to one of the best talks we have had in many a day.  Phil 
Magner talked to us about the war products of Minneapolis-Honeywell, and Him Martin showed the 
motion pictures on the operation of the various gadgets they make down there, and it was wonderful.  
Hats off to Minneapolis-Honeywell.  And incidentally, hats off to Phil Magner.  He would never admit 
it, let alone discuss it, but I will wager that back of everyone of those successful, highly technical pieces 
of electrical machinery, is the brain and genius of Phil Magner.  When this war began, Phil laid up his 
car, cancelled his insurance, (darn it) and went to work on the perfection of those fine lenses used in 
every telescope, on the bomb sights for all the places that have flown so successfully on so many long 
missions, and he has worked nights and days.  Boys, you will never know all that Phil Magner has done 
to help win this war, but it has plenty.  We had a couple guests.  One of them was Bob Fraustein, home 
from the Pacific, and he ate everything in sight, and the other was a friend of Bill Delaplane's, from the 
Purdue Extension Department.  You are O.K., too, Bill Delaplane in lots of ways.  Keep that old 
attendance up, fellows.  You're doing fine.
     Now, stories.  No, no poems.  I did slip on that little "Me Mudder" poem, and I regret and apologize 
considerably.  It would be all right if half the people in town weren't reading the darned Bullaton.  That 
poem slipped in, without me getting a chance to revise it a little.  I was so busy that I forgot about it.  
But, it is done now, and I blush.  And you too, Theron Burnsworth, you sent it to me.  BY THE WAY, 
boys, here is a song sent to me by Mrs. Wood Rhoades, now about 80 years old or maybe 85, all cripp- 
led up, but with a fine mind, the same good old Wabash lady who gave all of you those little books from 
the Bible that you had in your mess kits when you left for basic training.  She writes verses, and this 
song is good.  Here 'tis.  
THE AMERICAN YANK (Tune of Hold the Fort)                     A defense worker ambled into a drug 
1.	If you want to think of some grand people                            store recently and asked for some ice
              The ones we truly thank                                                  cream.  
       Turn your thoughts to those brave heroes                              Druggist:  "Sorry, there is no more ice
              Known as American Yanks.                                            Cream left.
2.	They are here, there, they are everywhere                             Defense Worker (reaching in his pocket
              Playing all kinds of pranks                                              and pulling out a roll of bills):  "Look, 
        To help us save our nation's freedom                                   for the first time in years I'm making lot
             These dependable honest Yanks.                                     Of money.  So what happens?  I go into
CHORUS                                                                                      a store and say, 'Give me a pound of 
        MacArthur said "I will be back here."                                  Butter.' They say, "No butter."  And I
             Said it in tones most frank.                                              Come here to buy ice cream and what
        He kept his word and freed the prisoners                             do I get?  'No ice cream."  When I was
              With the help of these brave Yanks.                               On relief, I ate good."
3.	Ready ever to do their duty                                                    ---
              Regardless of state or rank.                                            THE HORSE
       In air, in land, atop sea or under                                            Oh, horse, you are a wondrous thing,
              You'll find our invincible Yanks.                                   No horns to honk, no bells to ring, no
4.	We ask our God to safely keep them                                    license buying every year with plates to
               Whether in jeeps or tanks.                                            Stick on front and rear.  No sparks to
        Guard and protect from harm and danger                            miss, no gears to slip; you start your-
               These honored American Yanks.                                  Self; no clutch to slip.  No lack of gas
CHORUS                                                                                     coupons every day to steal the joy of
         Hold the fort-MacArthur's coming                                     life away.  Your inner tubes are all OK
                Brings hope to prisoners lank.                                      And thank the Lord they stay that way.
         With the help of Gold Almighty                                          Your spark plugs never miss and fuss,
                And the American Yanks.                                             Your motor never makes us cuss.  Your
FINAL CHORUS                                                                          frame is good for many a mile, your
          Prisoners shout "Our help is coming-                                 body never changes style.  Your wants
                To the Lord give thanks,                                               are few and easy met, you have some-
          Hope revives we know they'll save us,                               thing on an auto yet.
                 MacArthur and the Yanks                                             -------------------
      Two hillbillies who had never been on  a train before and been drafted and were on their way to 
camp.  A food butcher came thru the train selling bananas.  The two mountaineers had never seen 
bananas and each bought one.  As one of them bit into his banana the train entered a tunnel.  His voice 
came to his companion in the darkness:  1st Mountaineer:  "Have you et yours yet?"  2nd Mountaineer:  
"Not yet.  Why?"  1st Mountaineer: "Well, don't touch it.  I've eaten one bite and gone blind."
     Certainly the old town has been more or less on fire as a result of the favorable news coming from 
Germany.  People are tense, and waiting, and hoping and praying that the end in Germany is at hand.  
While there are boys fighting all over the world, it is also true that hundreds of our own boys are right in 
Germany now.  When that order comes to cease firing, it will be the cause for joy here at home.  Of 
course, it will be shortlived because there is so much yet to do in the Pacific.  But, when I think that 
good Wabash boys like Ward Vandegrift, Bill Barker, Gilbert Wilson have been prisoners of war for 
several years, and will be liberated, along with hundreds of others who have carried the burden of this 
fighting, of course, people will be happy, and some will yell, and others will pray, and some will get 
drunk, which I never could understand.  Let's hope it is all over soon.   And you fellows are so anxious 
to get back.  Not that this old town is any better than it ever was.  It isn't.  Even the Court House clock 
has stopped at 8:16 and they can't get the parts to fix it, and I am lost without it and everybody else is 
too.  It is a part of Wabash, that clock, and I don't ever want it changed.  Another thing, boys, if you 
think this old man isn't swamped now.  I took Mrs. Homer T., to the hospital for an operation, and the 
full load of this Bullaton has fallen on the old man.  I just found out how much work she was doing 
around here and around the house too. She is getting along all right now, and will be back in due time.  
Changing these addresses, about forty a week, is a job alone, but she did it fine.  Now I'm swamped.  
By the way, I called Betty Hickey Dohse, to ask about the new baby, little Mike, born last week out at 
the hospital.  Somebody told me the kid was a corker, was seen chewing up a bull dog out in front of the 
house.  Well, Betty denied that story but she did tell me that little Mike was cutting teeth.  "What, cut- 
ting teeth?  Why he was only born last week," I says, to which Betty remarked, "Yes, Homer T. you 
will never believe it, but little Mike crawled out the door, down the steps, across the yard to a cherry 
tree, and when I caught him, he just about had the tree chewed in two."  That stopped me.  I thot of 
George Washington, but I didn't contradict her any, and hung up, because I remembered some of the 
stunts this kid's Dad pulled a few years ago.  Must be some boy you got there, Clo.  One good report we 
got this week is that Lt. Tom Sundheimer, who was reported a prisoner of war, was now liberated and is 
on the way home.  That was swell.  Had a long letter from Bob Yarnelle, which was printed in the PD 
about Bob arriving in Calcutta, India, and that is where Jim Whisler is now.  I hope they meet.  Sgt. El- 
burn Robinson, connected with the Air Forces has arrived in China at Kumming, with an APO of 627, 
the same as Bob Sunday and George Bosch.  First thing you know, they will be organizing a Wabash 
Club like they have on Guam.  A couple Sundays ago, they did get nine Wabash men together on Guam.  
Jim Guthrie, Ralph Ogan, Roy Denton, Bob Simons, max Friermood, and some more.  Must have been 
a thrill.  Letters?  Have I got the letters this week from everywhere.  Wonderful.  Here is a letter from 
Verle Williams who has been in the Seabees for two years and has never seen a boy from Wabash.  Was 
on Tarawa for a year, and is now on Eniwetok Atoll, in the Marshall Islands.  Connected with the CB- 
MU in the Navy.  Are any of you guys on that island?  Or do you stop there?  Try and find this lad from 
Wabash.  He is anxious to meet you.  Any of you birds ever see the USS Cheango?  Russell Barnett is 
on that ship, an aircraft carrier, and he enjoys the B. very much he tells John Ford, his sponsor.  That's 
swell, Russell, see that everybody on the ship reads it.  No, I can't see how the B. takes the place of go- 
ing to church.  Nope.  Here's one from Maurice Halleck, that big black-headed ruffian, that used to bust 
up the chairs in Sunday School.  In the Aircraft Carrier Service out in the P. someplace.  I wondered 
what had happened to him.  Glad to know you're alive and I'll guess as tough as ever.  Yes, you will be 
O.K. if you are as good a man as your Dad, but you won't  be.  Neither will my kids either.  Boys, here 
is some letter from Capt. Wilbert Sullivan, a chaplain, written to C.O. Gamble.  Sullivan was a minister 
in Roann, and is sure doing a wonderful job in the hospitals in France.  Fine.  And today, when the mail- 
man brot the mail, I almost fell off my chair.  There was a letter from S/Sgt. Harry Forbes from some- 
where in Belgium.  Same old boy.  Wants Wimp "Jack" Mathers to drop in on him sometime.  Harry 
says they never get in on any excitement.  They did have a dog in the outfit that was due to have a litter 
of pups, but some ornery son of a gun stole the dog and nothing happened since worth mentioning.  
Don't worry about the sailors on the Wabash ship making love to the Wabash girls.  They are 4,000 
miles away, and all they can do is write.  Our boys will all get home as soon as these sailors will, and 
then it's every man for himself.  Write again, Harry.  Here is a news item that Cpl. Kenneth Clark from 
Urbana was slightly wounded in Germany on April 17 in the leg and hip and is in a hospital in France.  
Hope you get along swell, kid.  Don't let anything get you down.  Haven't heard from Red Gurtner or 
Vergil Ballard lately who were both in a hospital down in New G. after fighting in the Philippines.  Bob 
Clark is another wounded man, I am wondering about and Roy Cover, too.  You sure have our best 
wishes, fellows.  Here's quite a story in the P.D. on Bob Coburn and Don Whinery being with a patrol 
party that had to carry out a wounded sergeant, over the mountains in Luzon, and the difficult time they 
had doing it.  There must be 35 Wabash men together in that 151st over on Luzon.  John Magner is on 
Okinawa and so are the Mabee twins.  Can that Sam really write a letter.  I read it to the K Club, and 
they got a wallop from it.  Our boys sleeping in the caves which are filed with the bones of the Japanese 
ancestors must be an experience.  A letter here from John Frantz says he is amazed at Don Coburn sel- 
ling Wabash to the English.  He says he can't even make two fellows from Logansport believe it.  Well, 
some of these days before long, we may have positive proof for all of you.  I long ago sent out every- 
thing I had around here trying to settle arguments all the way from Iceland to So. Africa, and across the 
pond in New Guinea.  If the dumb bells don't believe it, just direct them politely to the lower regions 
and let it go at that.  They probably don't know there was a George Washington, either.  Good old Bill 
Sholty has a note for me too from the 104th Evac. Hospital at APO 403.  I'll bet you had a workout.  I 
had a letter from Dick Logan, who is with Paul Barrett, and today I had a letter from Paul.  Sure glad to 
hear from you too, Paul.  A lot of water over the dam since the good old days of 35 and 36 isn't there?  
Now, I got to quit, and there are 18 letters I haven't answered, but keep writing boys, and I'll try my 
best to get you answered.  It's now after midnight, and my rear end is paralyzed from this hard chair.  
Until next week, gang, just keep pitchin' and it won't be long.  Homer T.  
MAY 15, 1945
     At least one of the great days, has now arrived, and is just now coming to a close with the setting of 
the Sun.  The War with Germany is now done, and Wabash is mighty glad.  The price has been high.  I 
can  sit here and think of so many of our finest young friends from Wabash who have died, and others 
who have been imprisoned, and still many more who have suffered cold, hunger, and injury to bring this 
thing to a successful conclusion in Europe.  But the job is only half done.  Far out across the Pacific are 
scattered literally hundreds of our Wabash young men, separated from their jobs and their families and 
friends, who have a right to expect us back here to not slow down, but step it up instead.  So, Kiwan- 
ians, here in Wabash, let's tighten our belts, and dig in even harder than before, until the goal is accom- 
plished in the Pacific.  One great lesson has been learned, at least, that this big pleasure loving, kidding, 
happy-go-luck America, can not only finance, and equip our allies, but in addition, these basketball and 
football boys of ours, can get tough and whip the very pants off of anyone who questions our superior- 
ity.  Leadership of the future will think twice before they provoke the wrath of this country, but mark 
my word, leadership will forget what we are doing now to our enemies, unless we work at the job of 
Peace after this war is finally won.  Kiwanis met today as usual, and dedicated to the reading of letters 
from the boys from Germany, Philippines, China, India.  There were two from Okinawa, two from 
Saipan and three or four from Guam.  Only two among seventeen received yesterday and today were 
from the boys in this country.  Incidentally, fellows, we have some nice garden spaces ready for you.
     Now, some of you birds here at home were a little hard on me on that shady poetry, but don't crowd 
me too much.  After all, this Bullaton is really for the entertainment and uplift of our soldiers abroad, 
and any of your wives, or office girls who don't like it, just shouldn't read it.  Say, you ought to see 
some of the poetry that comes to my desk that I don't print.  Now, today, here is a poem written by Doc 
Kintner, and the ryhmn or metre or whatever you call it is pretty good, and it is probably true and 
appropriate right now at the time mamma is in the hospital, but I assure you that I don't go around 
bragging about my kids and grandkids all the time, not that they are not all something to brag about, if I 
was a bragging kind.  Here's the poem, and I hope mamma isn't too embarrassed when she reads it.
     You Joes and swabs that get this sheet                                   When news of these begins to wane,
Your mas and pas, your damsels sweet,                                  "Our Tommy, Billy, Rusty, Jane
And all your people in between                                               (His kids' kids) are about the best
Who read this bullaton, obscene,                                             Grandchildren that could fill a nest."
Have read about "My Kids" until                                                 So on he goes to brag and gloat, 
The air, with screams you want to fill                                      To sing their praise in anecdote.
     "Now Bob is sitting on the end                                                But what of Mrs. Homer T., 
Of the Aleutians where I send                                                   Who stars with sweet humility
Can tune in all-the best enjoy"                                                  In one of lifes' outstanding plays?
A radio with which my boy                                                       Her part deserves our fulsome praise.
     "My daughter, Dorothy, I am told                                            'Tis she who keeps the endless files
Conceals a secret that's as old                                                   Of names, addresses, as she whiles
As Eve's first whispered "Adam dear,                                       Away the hours in helpful toil,
I have a pain and feel so queer."                                                For which her Homer gets the spoil
     And "Charles just 'buzzed' the old home town,                   "Tis she whose heart fills up with pride
So low he made Frank Gurtner frown.                                       For every danger you outride.
Last night, with all his gang, he came;                                       When you are hurt, it injures her
Consumed our food with little shame."                                      As though her only child you were.
                                               She lives with you, your lighter side;
                                               Her happiness she will not hide
                                               When fitting triumphs come your way,
                                               Or when you're finally home to stay.
                                                    As Mother's Day reminds each one
                                               To be a eulogistic son,
                                               Lets save a prayer for health's return
                                               For her whose joy is our concern
                                               Since "Mother of the Bullaton"
                                               A place in all our hearts has won.
 Well, boys, the old town is happy tonight.  The stores closed, the flags were on the street, the churches 
were open tonight, and every thing was orderly up to five minutes ago.  We all know you fellows have a 
long way to go, and we are going along with you.  When the war is over in the Pacific, then we will roll 
up the sidewalks, take in the fire hydrants and just hope that everything holds together.  That will be the 
big day, and it can't come too soon.  Now, let's see.  What's happened around town.  One thing that is 
important to some of you boys from W.H.S. is that the track team won the conference last Saturday with 
Barnhart, Gurtner, Jones, Weaver and Rockwell and some more doing their stuff.  Barnhart is quite a 
sensation.  And they're fixing the Court House clock, and putting in a new sewer across the lawn, which 
cuts up the grass, but after all, when the sanitary facilities at the C.H. are inadequate to suit the volume 
of business done, then the sewers must be enlarged.  Sgt. Bruce Gray was a guest at Kiwanis today.  A 
beautiful Memorial service was held for Ray McPheeters at the Methodist Church last Sunday.  And 
another service at the Presbyterian Church at Lagro for Lew Williams.
     News?  Say, with this deluge of letters, and what all the mammas and wives tell me around this old 
burg, I am just weighted down with information.  For instance, I have just been invited to a wedding 
Sunday P.M.; at 3 bells at the leading church of the city.  Who is the girl?  Sure, that perfectly lovely 
little May Queen of two years ago, Mary Clevenger.  She is marrying Cpl. Jack Grulick, Fort George 
Wright of Spokane, Wash., and I hope he is worthy of this girl.  She is one of the best, and deserves 
only the best.  They tell me that Jack is a good guy all right, and he better be.  Another thing.  Some of 
you boys are worrying about the girls all being married when you get back.  Forget such thots.  I have 
never seen a finer lot of more eligible young ladies in Wabash in my time than there are just now.  And 
one more thing.  I am more than proud of the fine behavior of the war brides back here in Wabash.  
They are loyal to the core.  Once in a while, there is a stinker, but 99% are all for you guys and that's 
that.  I wish I had the space to mention dozens of names.  Just learned here that Lt. John Collinge is on 
LST 1018, out in the Pac., and I know that Ens. H.B. Brubaker is on LST 1024.  Brubaker took part in 
the invasion of Lingayen Gulf on upper Luzon, and my guess is that John wasn't far away.  Right, John?  
Last week I told you that Major George Bosch, Ordnance, had landed in China right on the heels of old 
Bob (Red) Sunday, at APO 627, and since then I saw a picture of Elburn Robinson, a photographer, at 
the same spot, and now I learn that Ralph Barnhouse of the infantry is also there coming over from APO 
218.  Things are moving now into China.  Then from Saipan comes a message from Frank Alberson 
who says he met Max Friermood at the airfield thru the Bullaton, and now he goes down to see him off 
on his missions and generally gets back to see him return.  And I guess there isn't much of Japan that 
Max hasn't seen.  Frank says there are four on the little "rock," Herb Lantz, Bob Timmons, Max and 
himself, but he knows that Lt. Ralph Bakehorn flies out of the next island of Guam.  (He don't mention 
all these islands by name but I know where every body is by this time.)  Ralph Bakehorn has completed 
his missions and is now headed for home.  Flew a Liberator, I am sure.  Frank will be glad to learn that 
they had an Indiana day on Guam on Apr. 29th, and took a picture of the Wabash Co. boys.  Ralph Ogan 
told me all about it in a letter just received and in a letter from Bob Simons, he gave me the names of 
Jim Guthrie, Roy Denton, Ralph Ogan, Don Holmes, Johnny Lynn, Johnny Faust, Pat O'Brien and 
Frank McVicker besides himself.  Bob was so excited, being the youngest member of the crowd, that he 
sys he may have forgotten a name or two, but Bob is not going to feel alone again on the isle of Guam.  
An Indianapolis News photographer took the pictures, and promised that I should have one.  If I get it 
boy, it will be in the Plain Dealer, if I have to choke Sills, Grover and Joe Nixon to get it.  Now, the 
next thing is a reunion in Manila.  The old 38th is there with Capt. Messer, Bob Tewksbury, Harry 
France, Gerald Bowman, Don Whinery, Dwaine Ulrey, Bill Pearson, Doc. Slegelmilch, the Haupt boys, 
Maurice Penniston, Sgt. Big Bill Leach, and now comes a letter from Capt. Wilbur Van Horn, who says 
he hopes to run into Jimmy Guenin as he is only a short ways from the 38th.  By the way, here is a letter 
from Cecil Mills' son-in-law, Capt. D.E. Glasco, Hq. Usasos APO 727, evidently right in Manila, and 
he would love to meet some fellows from the old home town of his daddy-in-law.  Can't some of you 
guys hunt Capt. Don Glasco up?  Yes, you are right.  Cecil Mills in probably the most completely 
wonderful man, you or any of the rest of us will ever know.  They're just aren't any more Cecil Mills.  
Hello, Hello, here is a picture that I would have sworn was Marjorie Stewart, but it isn't.  It is a nurse in 
the Philippines that waited on Vergil while he was in a hospital.  No wonder he was sick so long.  
Humph.  Vergil says he hitch hiked back from New Guinea by plane, and came close to the island on 
which his brother Jim is located.  Says he hasn't seen him yet, but he is just 5 miles from Dick Allen.  
And, here is one from Jim McVicker on LSM 208.  Jim touched Enewitok on the way to Okinawa, 
thinks he saw the tanker Wabash over there.  Hope he gets to go on board sometime, and see all the 
pictures of Wabash beauties.  Among them the Queen of the Wabash, and May queen too, I guess, 
Dorothy Small.  She's awfully strong for you, Mac,  but I can't get her to talk too much as I think she is 
afraid I will put it in the Bullaton.  So the aforesaid is in strictest confidence.  If any of you boys see that 
Wabash tanker in port, make yourselves known, and get on board if you can.  Here is one.  Bob Howen- 
stine, stationed on Biak Island, knew Darwin Alexander's boat, the USS Villa Loba, and someway thru 
their communications he found out that Darwin's boat was out there in the harbor, and he got hold of a 
small boat and went out to call on him.  Guess they had quite a time.  It must be wonderful to meet your 
former friends after you haven't seen any of the old crowd for maybe a couple years.  Howard Halder- 
man stopped in this afternoon, and was telling me among other things about how he met a fellow, Pete 
(somebody) over in France in the last war, and he says he never got such a thrill in his life as he did 
when he ran across an old college mate from Purdue.  Speaking of Halderman makes me think of a story 
Herald Talbert told the other day,  one that happened in the other World War.  Two soldiers were forced 
to stay all night at a farm house someplace in Pennsylvania, when they were on furlough and their old 
Ford broke down.  Yes, it was dark, and the farmer folks did have a daughter, unmarried, and pretty 
good looking, but, she must have been 45 years old.  The old folks warned the boys not to molest the 
daughter as she slept in the next room to the one assigned to them.  They looked at each other and 
laughed, and after while everybody went to bed.  Well, one of them woke up about four o'clock in the 
morning, and by George, his buddy was gone.  "Hump he said to himself, he can have her."  Well, to 
make a long story short, next day they shipped out, and finally ended up in the trenches pretty well up in 
front.  One day a letter came to one of the boys, and it was from a lawyer.  "Oh, oh," he thot, "now 
what?"  but he opened the letter and his eyes almost popped out of his head.  He turned to his friend and 
said, "Say, you---so and so, did you use my name back there in Pennsylvania when you slept with that 
old maid?"  "Sure I did," came the reply, "you didn't think I was going to use my own name, did you?"  
"Why?"  "Oh nothing, except that that old maid died, and just left me $50,000.  
MAY 22, 1945
     Nice time at Kiwanis today.  We sang, and how we sang.  This man Lewis is a good song leader. 
Puts a lot of stuff on the ball, and I like that.  The food was good although it was a vegetable dinner.  
We had meat balls or paddies, but the hog never died that furnished the meat for those paddies.  The 
cook just ran past a hog, and patted him on the back for the odor, I guess, and then mixed up some, corn 
meal, rice, potatoes and what have you to make the paddie.  And, whoever heard of putting raisins in 
meat balls, but it smelled like meat, and tasted good.  With Inez Grubb in the kitchen, anything could 
happen.  Then Bill Delaplane talked, ---and talked, and Owen J. sat right in front of Bill and slept,--and 
slept.  Had a couple visitors, too, Kiwanians Agnew and Eberhard from North Manchester and Hunting- 
ton respectively.  Bill talked on Soil Erosion, and got in deep water with the preachers when he told us 
how the earth was formed by being cast off from the Sun, and I thot all the time that the Creator put it 
here just like it is, only the people weren't quite so uncivilized as we are.  Anyway, we had a good 
meeting and Bill Delaplane did make a good speech.  A lot of good fellowship in that outfit.  To me the 
big thing today was that Walter Bent was back again from a terrific sickness, and looking fine.  Next 
Tuesday we eat again, and then at night join with other se4rvice clubs in hearing Jan Karski, member 
Polish Underground, speak on Poland and its problems.  Kiwanis will be there almost 100%.
     Speaking of poetry, Doc Kintner's poem really made a hit with the better half of the Showalter 
pardnership.  She was immensely pleased and now she thinks Doc Kintner is quite a guy.  But she don't 
know him as well as I do.  Anyway, she is coming along fine now, and I hope she will be able to wade 
thru this office again some of these days and take over where she left off.  I asked Ware Wimberly, our 
Presbyterian preacher president for a story (just a little off color and he told me this one.)  Over in Peru 
there was a character that sat on the street corners, chewed terbaccer, and spit on the side walk, and 
called on the trustee for his meals and lodging.  So the commissioners decided that if they had to feed 
him anyway, they might as well put him on the payroll, and let him earn his way.  So everyday they had 
him shine the cannon on the Court House lawn.  After two weeks had passed and he drew his pay, he 
resigned.  When they asked him what was the matter, why he had quit, he said, "Oh, I have saved up 
enough money now to buy a cannon of my own."    Then today Harry Ridgeway handed me one of his 
original poems, which goes like this:
     There ain't no justice in this here lan'
     I just got a divorce from my ole man
     I had to laff at the Jedge's decision,
     He gave him the kids which are not even his'n.
     That's pretty good and then Frank Gurtner had a little story to pass on to the boys.  A visitor at an 
asylum asked, " Do you have to keep the women inmates separated from the men?"  To which the 
attendant remarked:  "Sure, these people are not as crazy as you think they are."
     Cecil Gamble told me today that he just had a letter back from a doctor friend of his whom he had 
been mailing the Bullaton, that he had made copies of one of the poems, and turned them loose in the 
hospital in Burma, and the boys raised the roof all over the place.  He told Cecil to keep them coming.  
Cecil is wondering what will happen when he gets that little poem entitled "Me Mudder."  I just rece- 
ived a better one than that from Germany, one written by the head of an old German family where this 
soldier had stayed.  If it passes the censors, I may use it next week. 
     Hello gang.  Sure there's news.  The big thing in Wabash this week is the fact that they got the Court 
House clock to running again, and it strikes the hour like it always did.  Another thing is that after twe- 
nty years, the commissioners are painting the roof of the Ct. House and painting it aluminum.  Boys, 
does it shine in the sunlight.  I sure missed the clock and so did everybody else.  Sunday afternoon at the 
Christian Church, was a beautiful wedding.  Cpl. Jack Groulich stood before the alter with Mary Cleve- 
nger, one of your favorites in Wabash High.  She made a perfect bride, and of course Jack was as awk- 
ward and shy as most young men are when they take on the joke.  But they got thru it all right, and 
left amid a shower of rice from the hands of the maidens and other war brides, who had assembled at the 
church.  Louis Anderson and Jack Fraustein were home and of course, they were there with bells on.  
And, boys, assuming all the dignity I could in lieu of my official position in the city, I bestowed a fat- 
herly caress upon the rosy cheek of the lovely bride.  Got to earn my money someway and that is the 
Easiest way I know of to do it.  We honestly wish you two kids, Jack and Mary, all the luck in the 
world.  Today, Peggy Temple Durnbaugh came in from the west coast for a visit, and says both Ding 
and the baby are getting along fine.  Here is Rob't Conner's address I just picked up.  He has an HA 2/c 
after the name #2947989 Naval Trn'g School Hospital Corps, San Diego, Calif.  Bob would like to see 
somebody from Wabash and I am wondering why some of you boys in and near San Diego can't drop 
Bob a line and invite him out.  He is a swell boy.  And yesterday Peggy Kratzer gave me Joe Yarnelle's 
latest address this way, A/C J.W. Yarnelle 1B-45 C © Cadet Regiment USNATB Corpus Christi, Texas.  
Luck to you, Joe.  Here is a note that says Kenneth Stout is now in the Philippines.  And I have just lea- 
rned that George Price in the F.A. is now on upper Luzon in the Philippines.  Will bet that we have 75 
Wabash County boys in the Philippines.  Some day there will be a Wabash day in Manila, just wait and 
see.  We are gradually getting them placed, and Okinawa is another spot that gives me plenty to think 
about.  It must be as tough as Iwo Jima, and we have a lot of boys on Okinawa.  Have had some inter- 
esting letters from that hot spot.  Jim Montgomery on Okinawa, I understand.  Eugene Weesner has a 
nice letter here from Eugene (Pat) O'Brien from Guam who sat in on the gathering of Wabash boys, and 
had a swell time.  Pat has been over Japan a number of times, and will be there again.  Had their plane 
badly shot up on one occasion.  I hope that picture gets here, Pat.  A nice letter here from Lt. H.J. Mick- 
elthwaite from the USS WABASH, telling me how much the boys on the ship appreciate the many gifts 
they have received from the citizens of Wabash.  A couple weeks ago, the Moose lodge called me and 
they had forty pounds of hard candy for the crew.  The firemen packed it and I shipped it out.  Saturday 
evening, Betty Elshire Stalcup, phoned me that the folks at the Wesleyan Methodist Church had all brot 
in sugar, nuts, butter, milk, etc., and they had made 35 pounds of the swellest candy you ever saw.  It 
was wonderful, and when the boys on the tanker see it, and taste it, like I did, they will all want to move 
to Wabash after the War.  A letter here from Francis Vandegrift, which I believe comes from Pearl Har- 
bor, tells me he is stationed near Pood Smeltzley and John Freeman.  "Vandy" is wondering about Jack 
Ball, whom he used to see, and so am I.  Haven't heard from jack in a long time.  How you doing, Jack?  
We should have some WAVES in that port, but I'm not sure.  Keep your eye peeled, Vandy, for the  
Wabash tanker.  Wonderful letter here from George Price.  Yes, Bill was a great kid in my estimation.  
None better.  And the old songs you mention, Bud, are still what they want.  Last Sunday, I suggested 
we try some new ones, but the whole gang put up such a fuss for #15 and 285 that I gave up, and we all 
sang them once more, and every time we sing them, I think of all you fellows who liked them so well.  
The War will be over some day, kid, and we will have a real reunion.  Here's a letter from W. K. Powell 
of near Lincolnville, who says he came over with Ed Pell and Beamer, and that recently he has seen 
James Murphy from Wabash.  I will take care of that little matter you mention on the South Side.  I 
must take care of you boys interests while you are away.  Saw Freddie Hoeffer's wife the other day and 
she is as sweet as ever.  Let's hear from you, Fred.  And I am wondering about Clo Dohse over in that 
hospital in France.  Write when you can, Clo.  Betty told me today she is going to bring in little Mike 
first time she comes down town.  Says he looks just like you.  And Roy Cover, how about you?  Have 
you recovered?  And Johnny Hawley, injured in Burma, is now in a hospital in Chicago.  Would love to 
see you, John.  A fine letter here from Capt. Kedrick Brady from APO 151 in Germany.  He is conne- 
cted with the 9th Air Force, and has seen plenty of destruction and devastation.  I am glad you like the B.  
In fact, you fellows almost embarrass me.  This last week I received 17 letters in two mails, and what 
letters.  I shall show this letter to your folks, Ked.  It' swell.  I don't have anyone else at your APO.  
Letter here from Albert Weesner from France, a cousin of Harry Forbes.  You asked about Hube Dub- 
ois, and where he is now.  I don't know except that he flew home from Norfolk, Virginia two weeks ago 
for a five day leave and has left the country on his ship, the Polana.  He has charge of land craft opera- 
tions, and it is a safe guess that he will show up later on in ports west.  Remember that name, all of you, 
and when you see it, Hubert is on it.  The old editor will help raise his kids while he is gone.  They say 
the youngest one looks just like his Grandpa Showalter, ears and all.  I feel sorry for the boy, but it 
makes me happy.  Remember last week I told you that Howard Halderman came into the office.  Then I 
forgot to tell you why he came in.  He had a letter from Frank Finnegan, and it was a peach.  From the 
letter, it seemed that Frank was making the most of his opportunities in Germany.  He told Howard 
about the difference between the Chamagne of France and Germany.  So much better in Germany.  The 
letter is a dandy, and Howard got a bang out of it.  He has always maintained that a fellow couldn't be 
anything above a buck private and get any fun out of the army.  Write your sponsors, boys, they like it 
fine.  And so do I.  I was tickled to death to get a letter this week from Bill Baker Navy 926 in the N.S. 
D. (Trans).  Says he is on the same island that Jim Guthrie is on although he didn't know it until he read 
it in the B.  Now, the rest of you guys on Guam get busy and hunt Bill up.  I have given you his address 
above, and get busy and hunt him up.  Yes, Bill, you're right.  Fats Harreld and Shanny Sullivan did 
make a nice couple.  I saw them this week end here in town.  Bob Mitten says he is going to pick you 
out a good girl sometime so that you can settle down right here in Wabash.  I wouldn't trust Mitten too 
far.  He couldn't find one for himself, so how can he help you.  Keep your eyes peeled for the other 
fellows on Guam and you will meet them in a short time.  Here is a letter from Blaine Krom with a tem- 
porary APO.  The letter comes from France, and as soon as you got a permanent APO, let me know and 
I may be able to put you in touch with somebody.  Pvt. Tom Noonan, Btry. 519 F.A. Bn. Fort Sill, Okla- 
homa, writes that he likes the Bullaton and wants to hear from his friends.  O.K. Tom, they have your 
address.  Here is a 2nd Anniversary Overseas Greeting from Italy from Lt. Col. Dr. Bob LaSalle, one of 
our Kiwanians in service.  Swell, Doc.  Located at leghorn, Italy, isn't that right?  You have been swell 
in meeting Wabash boys.  Dean Swan was in church a week ago Sunday, and he had talked with Jack 
Cross over there.  Did you ever meet up with Sam Schlemmer.  Inasmuch as Sam landed at Casa Blanca 
about four or five years ago, he should have a 185 of the socalled points by this time.  J.W. Owen in the 
Sub service wants Johnny Faust's address.  Johnny is on Guam all right, and I will mail you the address 
complete in a letter.  Hope you meet.  Now, gang, with a whole handful of letters unanswered, I must 
quit for tonight.  Just remember that the old town here is backing you up as much as we can, and will 
welcome you when you get back.  And keep the old chin up.  G'night.  Homer T. 
MAY 29, 1945
     The trials of an Editor are numerous and ramified.  Regarding the editorial on the meat paddies last 
week, I am more hurt than insulted. I was merely trying to compliment the dear young ladies in the kit- 
chen on their ability to make up food that is delicious out of very little.  It is an Art, and when I tell my 
mother-in-law that she can make dishwater taste like consommé, she is pleased because she knows I 
mean she is a good cook, and I think the ladies of the P. Church should be pleased also.  Instead of that 
they gave me a half portion of meat, and then send in a platter of carrots for my dessert.  They owe me 
an apology, don't you brothers think?  Or do you? Well, let's get along.  It was a nice meeting today.  
Bert Allen, First National Bank, gave us an excellent talk on the future of Wabash.  He emphasized the 
need of new school buildings, new sewers, a general overhauling of the business district.  In addition, he 
advocates the appointment by the City Council of a City Planning Commission.  I am not against it.  I 
am for it, but I believe it should come from the Chamber of Commerce rather than the city itself.  The 
City Council is elected to do a certain job, have engineering services at their disposal, but are naturally 
reluctant to reach out with an expansion program of their own, that might at the time meet the approval 
of a group that a couple years later will take their hide off for suggesting such a thing.  The present Cou- 
ncil wants to go along on anything that will help Wabash grow, and prosper.  If our Council wasn't con- 
servative, they would be out of step with most of the people in Wabash.  Plenty of people in Wabash 
don't want to see it grow.  Why?  Because they don't want to see the rents come down, they aren't in 
favor of 300 new houses in town.  We need people who put the good of Wabash above their own pers- 
onal interests, and those people are hard to find, although the spirit in Wabash today is far ahead of 
anything I have ever seen, much of which can be attributed to the attitude of the local newspaper.  We 
have had plenty of leadership in Wabash thru the years, and lots of planning has been done, but times 
change, war profits come, and go, and new requirements come up, that must be met.  Incidentally, the 
Charley Creek sewer will take all the sanitary requirements of 200 houses built out on the old Golf 
Course, if a dozen of you fellows have enough guts to organize a building corporation, and build the 
houses.  Show me 20 men who will devote several evenings a week to the problems of a planning 
commission, and I'll bet the Council will be interested in all the help they can get.  Incidentally, the 
Chamber of Commerce has done a fine job since its reorganization and will continue to do so.  We are 
sorry Bud Mahaney is layed up in the hospital.  Take it easy, Bud.
     Yes, I'm behind the 8 ball.  I do have a little German poem I would like to run in this issue, but I'm 
scared to do it.  It is true that I want the Bullaton to be a good influence on the young men and women 
who read it, and I'm not really worried about them as much as I am the papas and mammas who thru 
some means or other, get hold of each copy of the Bullaton and pick it to pieces.  I'll bet nobody has 
gone to the bad yet as a result of reading the old scandal sheet, and I don't think they will.  Let's have 
all the best stories you pick up, and poetry too.  We'll sort it over and if not too tough, we'll run it.
Her dress was tight-                                     Old lady (to little boy smoking cigarets):
     She scarce could breathe;                       "You better stop doing that, otherwise you'll never become
She sneezed aloud                                       president of the United States."
     And there stood Eve.                              Little Boy:  "Oh, that's all right, lady, I'm a Republican    
     A soldier recently transferred to a carrier pigeon outfit was buy cleaning out a cage.  He sang as he 
worked.  A passing captain commented:  "Good heavens, don't tell me you enjoy doing that."
     "Sir," he replied, "before I came here I was in the cavalry."

After all, girls, you only get out of a sweater what you put into it.
"Where did I come from, Mama?"  "The stork brought you."  "And did the stork bring you, too, 
Mama?"  "Yes, dear,"  "And Grandma?"  "Yes."  So the little girl wrote on her composition paper:  
"There hasn't been a natural birth in our family for three generations."

"My uncle was wrecked on a desert island with 25 girls and when they found him he was nearly dead."  
"From exposure?"  "No, from pulling down the distress signals the girls put up."

A wolf is a member of the male species who devotes the best leers of his life to women.

Prohibitionist Orator:  There are so who merely advocate temperance.  But what, I ask, is the real drink 
Voice from back row:  "What'll you have?"
      Sure, sure, I know that the path of the old Bullaton is getting rougher and rougher the further along 
the war goes in many ways, but at the same time, it is becoming more and more valuable to all of you.  
Today I opened a large envelope from the Indianapolis News, and it contained one swell picture taken 
of the Wabash County boys on the Isle of Guam, practically all of whom were gotten together thru the 
Bullaton.  At any rate, the news wanted me to identify the boys and they would carry the picture.  The 
boys so far identified were Jim Guthrie, Bob Simons, John Lynn, Junior King of Somerset, Rich Smith 
from Somerset, Frank McVicker, Roy Denton, Eugene (Pat) O'Brien, Ralph Ogan, John Faust of Laf-
ontaine, Leolin Holmes.  It is a marvelous picture, and the boys look good, and they look happy.  They 
are mostly holding cans in their hands, looks like cans of beans, but it might be something else.  Any-  
way, they say it's great to meet fellows from home, and they want all the rest of you guys who touch 
Guam to start looking for them.  We hope to stage a Wabash party in Manila, as there are not less than 
fifty or sixty on Luzon alone from Wabash.  Mrs. Cecil Reynolds just called a little while ago and told 
me that Jim was on the USS LCI (L957) and was in the Philippines, so keep your eyes open for Jim.  
And by grapevine I get it that Max Simons met Cecil Sheppard on Luzon recently.  That's swell.  Keep 
your eyes peeled for Jim McVicker, on that LSM 208.  He will be steaming into Lingayen Gulf one of 
these days, after being in on the Okinawa landings, along with Jim Montgomery, Sam and Bill Mabee, 
Henry Holmes, John Magner and some more.  Rolland Windbigler writes Paul Sellers here in the K 
Club that he is very anxious to meet anyone from Wabash in the Philippines.  Say, boys, while I think of 
it.  Last week in telling you about Mary Clevenger's marriage to jack Greulich, I made one mistake that 
I want to correct.  I said something about jack "Taking on the joke, and I hit the wrong key and spelled 
it joke when I meant yoke, (marriage.)  I wouldn't have Mary Clevenger think for a minute that I thot 
she was a joke, when I think she is one of the best girls we ever turned out at Wabash High.  So please 
stand corrected.  My bifocals don't always look where I'm hitting".  Sorry, Mary.  Hey, gang, who do 
you think was elected "King" at the High School festivities the other night?  None other than our old 
friend, Sammy (maybe I should say, Samuel Butterbaugh."  He is a politician, that boy.  He ought to be.  
He's one of my boys.  And the Queen, well, you might know it would be Pat Hauk.  They are a swell 
pair of kids.  And Nancy Morrow won the loving cup given each year for the Senior girl with the finest 
all round record.  And she, being one of my favorite nieces, I was tremendously pleased.  Barnhart, by 
the way, won fourth place in his mile in the State Track meet, a really good boy.  NOW, boys, here's 
something that will please you.  Ward Vandegrift, shot down over Italy almost two years ago, and int- 
erned in Stalag Luft, Germany, has now been liberated.  That's all we know so far, but that much is fine, 
and we are so happy that he rode it out.  Bill Barker was librated sometime ago, as well as Dean Durn- 
baugh from Roann.  The boys in Germany are happy.  Here is a swell letter from Lt. James Sailors, who 
has written me several times, and every letter is a dandy.  He says in this one that thru the Bullaton he 
located Jesse Lehman, and had two visits with her.  Then they moved her hospital and he hadn't located 
it yet, but he would.  Had some papers for her.  He also found Harry Coan, who used to live in Wabash.  
We got Harry's address sometime ago, Jim, and mailed him the Bullaton.  Then Sailors did something 
else that was fine.  He enclosed a money order for $15.00 to help finance the "best little paper in the 
world" and to send it to still more Wabash boys.  It's a fine spirit, fellows, but please don't do it, as this 
is a Kiwanis project and we don't need the money.  Today, Dick Hutton, discharged after 52 months in 
service with 135 points behind him, came into the office.  Never had been on our mailing list, and never 
in Australia and New Guinea, in 37 months did he see a boy from Wabash.  And, from my lists I sho- 
wed him and told him of about two dozen fellows that were in the same places he was and he never met 
them.  It made him sick, as he could have spent dozens of his libertys or leaves with Carl Buehler, Dick 
Allen, Max Derck, fellows he knew well.  He didn't know Charley Showalter was in the Jolly Rogers 
group at Port Moresby until he read it in the Sat. Eve. Post, and then he ran over to find him and he had 
come on home.  So I guess the Bullaton is a fine thing all right.  And would be much better if we had all 
the 3000 boys on the list from the county instead of 1250, and if I had three secretaries to help do the 
job.  Bill Guernsey over at APO 219 in India, I am sorry I call you Wayne.  I know Wayne is in Germ-
any.  And I certainly hope you do see some old friends.  Don't worry you will.  With Bob Yarnelle and 
Jim Whisler now in Calcutta, you will hear them coming long before you see them.  And don't forget 
boys, you fellows that are dropping down at 627 in China that Major George Bosch is there, and Bob 
Sunday, Elburn Robinson, and Ralph Barnhouse are already there.  Et me know immediately when any- 
one else arrives as that is our method of building up these Wabash parties in distant places.  A swell let- 
ter here from Charles Leonard APO 717 which is somewhere in the Philippines.  Anyone know where 
that is?  Charles used to lived on Ferry St. and then moved to Rich Valley.  I don't have any other add- 
resses at 717, and I hope some fellow gets this that is close to your outfit.  Nice letter here from Jim M. 
Drill, Cox, NAAF Otis Field Camp Edwards, Box 68, Mass.   Now, Jim, if there is anybody hits your 
port, they have your full address.  Jim says he has been assigned to the biggest Air Craft Carrier ever 
built.  Met boys from everyplace in Indiana except Wabash.  Hope you meet some soon.  George Jolly 
asks if we have any Wabash men at APO 230.  This list is a month old and may be changed some, as 
you boys in Germany have been moving too fast for me, but I find here Myron Miler, Farrar Aubertine, 
Bud Cowgill, Dick Cowles.  Lloyd Mason, Robert Martin, Fred Endres, James Pretorius and Robt. Hol- 
comb.  Quite a few don't you think, George.  By the time, you get this, you may be headed home, and I 
sincerely hope they leave you here, but they may not.   Carl Buehler, where are you?  I have you at APO 
322 with Richard Lawson, Forrest Knotts, V.L. Miller and Bill Thompson.  Haven't heard from you Bill 
for some time.  Bill Roggee, what about you?  Herald Talbert asks about you every once in a while, and 
Wally Jones too.  Ben Irwin, Bernard Sloan and Marland Coburn have you moved on to 717 too along 
with Charles Leonard.  One of the most interesting and informative letters in many a day comes from L. 
J. Hipskind stationed at the Military Govt. Hosp. 202 on Saipan.  He names others stationed there, Clay- 
ton Curnutt of Lagro, at Hosp. 369th, only ten miles from him on the other side of the island.  Also at the 
Army's Gen. Hosp. #148 is 2nd Lt. Gertrude Driscoll of Urbana.  And Lt. David Hipskind of the US En- 
gineering Corps also on the island.  One of Fred Hipskind's boys I believe now in Ft. Wayne.  Fine, L.J. 
Hipskind, wish I could go on but my space is gone and I must quit for tonight.  Keep writing, boys.  
Homer T.   
  June 5, 1945
     Wow.  What a day this has been.  Up this morning at 4:30, with the assistance of an alarm clock, up in 
Argos by 7 o'clock, and back in town here by 1 o'clock.  Have, dug, wheeled, mixed concrete until by 
tonite, even my ears are sore when I wiggle them.  Tough life when you still have to work isn't it?  But I 
just got in on the end of the K program.  Lt. Wade, head of the Weather Report Bureau from the Bunker 
Hill Base, made an intelligent talk on the subject of weather as it pertains to flying.  Very good.  Tom 
Kelley, Ft. Wayne, Lt. Gov. of Kiwanis from this division was with us for the day.  Tom is quite a fell- 
ow, and is certainly well known in Indiana Kiwanis.  Make a good Governor someday.  Then the whole 
club was delighted to see John Hawley back home in Wabash, and sitting in Kiwanis.  John was in Ind-
ia, then Burma, was badly injured a couple months ago, and is now back to a hospital near Chicago.  Of 
course, he is very happy to be eating some of Ma Hawley's homemade pies, and meeting old friends.  
Plenty of luck, John.  Then, too, the announcement was made that we are to go back to the Indiana Hot- 
el next Tuesday, June 5th.  Please remember the date.  We have enjoyed ourselves immensely at the Pre- 
sby. Church, and the food has been very good, and plenty of it, regardless of any wisecracks I may have 
put in the Bullaton.  Also, we have an unusual number next week.  Chuck Glazier, an instructor in Judo 
on the west coast is home on furlough, and will show us some of the tricks of the trade as taught to Mar- 
ines and Sailors before they tackle the Japs.  I think we have Buss Kuffell lined up to work out with 
him, and I have asked Bob Printy to come and be with us, so, you pencil pushers, be on hand.  I may 
wrestle Chuck myself, if we can't find anybody else.  My wind is a little bade for wrestling I'm afraid.  
Howard Halderman used to be quite a wrestler and Herald Talbert was and is quite a scrapper.  Maybe 
they could take Chuck on together.  Well, anyway----
     Good poems are shy this week.  I still got one I'm afraid to run, but one of these days, when the cen- 
sors loosen up a bit, I'll slip it in. Bill Delaplane tells a pretty cute story of a colored fellow who was in 
his outfit in the last War, (You boys didn't know that Bill belonged to a colored outfit in the last, did 
you?)  Any how they had a big rawboned, long-legged colored fellow, that was as tough as they made 
them.  He had the size and the speed to make a good soldier, and make a good athlete, but he had never 
been out of the cotton fields in Georgia until the War was declared, and didn't know much.  Anyhow, 
the athletic director gets the idea of making a baseball player.  So they finally got him up to bat, showed 
him how to hold the bat, and told him, "Now when that ball comes toward you, swing and hit it with all 
your might."  And he did just that, and what a wallop.  The ball sailed right on out of the field over into 
the thick of the Belleau Woods.  Everybody hollered, "Run, run, run."  The colored boy laid down the 
bat, turned around and said, "I won't run.  I'll buy him a new ball first."
When the festive lights are glowing             You'll soon be coming home again
   And the spirit of the day                                Yes, sooner than you know---
Makes you just a little lonesome                  So smile and make the best of things
   Make believe you're on your way.                 And time will quickly go.
                                     Those at home will pray for you
                                          And you'll be very near
                                     So together, let us spend the day
                                          In happiness, my dear.
     Yes, you are a lot nearer than you can imagine.  Here at Memorial Day time, your folks are all thin- 
king of you.  Some of you have never been out of the country, some of you have been across or sailing 
the high seas now for years, and many of you have been thru seventeen different kinds of Hell, but don't 
ever forget that your wives, sweethearts, fathers and mothers are thinking of you continuously, and lo- 
oking forward to that day when you come home again.  Tomorrow the crowd will again gather at the 
Lincoln monument on the Court House Lawn, lay a wreath on the base of the statue and then march out 
to the cemetery, led by the band.  It means more this year because there are a lot of our boys sleeping 
tonight in foreign burial places.  May we just hesitate for a moment right now to pay our respects to 
them.  Now, there are barrels of news of all kinds.  Yesterday, there were five service men here in the 
office, and three of them are permanently discharged.  I had a long talk with Verling Weesner, who spe- 
nt three years and one month across, and had a total of 105 points.  So he is home now for good, and  
was fortunate to hitch hike by airplane from Italy, via the Azores, and New York, and then Chicago.  He 
is very happy to be back home again.  The old wrestler Bob Printy is now out for good, after instructing 
in Judo for about 3 ½ years.  They tell me that Bob had a show of Judo tactics the boys put on that sold 
more War Bonds than Hedy Lamarr, Bob Hope and the rest of them combined.  Incidentally Bob does- 
n't know whether he will stay here in good old Indiana or not, as he has a good job offered him in Cal- 
if., and confidentially, a little widow out there that carries an awful wallop with Bob.  This is just bet- 
ween us as I don't believe bob wants anything said about it.  Then Dennie Lauer was in too, and he says 
he was 118 points and will be out in about six weeks.  Also, Schuyler Hudson, who spent a couple ye- 
ars, in Italy, then India and over the hump into China is back in the country, and phoned the Bromleys 
from New York that he would see them soon.  Letters by the dozens.  One of these was especially good 
from S/Sgt Bob Sunday from Kumming, China, APO 627.  It always please me to hear where Wabash 
men get together in some distant spot due to the Bullaton, and he tells me that Bill Lutz dropped in on 
him, and he tells me of the big times they had.  Have never heard a word from Bill Lutz, and there are 
better than a 150 Bullatons headed in his direction.  Also glad that Bob got to see Major Bosch.  There 
are two more, Ralph Barnhouse and Elburn Robinson in your spot, and I hope you get together.  Spea-  
king of get togethers, they had one on Guam, Jim Guthrie, Roy Denton, Eugene O'Brien, Frank McVi- 
cker, Bob Simons, John Lynn, Leolin Holmes, Dick Smith from Somerset, Junior King from Somerset, 
Johnny Faust and Ralph Ogan, and a couple boys from Akron, Indiana.  Awfully glad they both got in 
the Picture, as I just went thru Akron today, and talked with both the mothers of the boys and they were 
all excited about the picture.  Now next, listen, you tramps.  We are promoting a WABASH DAY IN 
MANILA.  My guess is that we have better than sixty Wabash boys on Luzon from this county, and a 
dozen of them have written me about what they saw in Manila.  In a letter just received from Max Sim- 
ons, he tells me that he was walking down the street in Manila, and a few feet ahead of him was Cecil 
Sheppard.  What a thrill he said he had from that, and they made arrangements to get together later.  
Swell. Now why not set a date say July 15, to arrange a meeting.  Everybody try and arrange it.  Here is 
the address in full of Capt. D.E. Glasco, 0-343823 USA Hq. U.S.A.S.O.S. APO 707, San Francisco, the 
son-in-law of Cecil Mills, and he has an office right in Manila.  Write him and see if you can't work out 
something.  I wish I was over there (for a couple of weeks).  I'll bet we would work up a party of some 
kind.  And when you do, don't fail to have a picture taken of the group.  Get hold of an AP or UP photo- 
grapher, and the picture is good for the state papers as well as the P.D.  You should see the beautiful pi- 
cture Bob Sunday sent me.  He is standing along side of one of the prettiest little Chinese girls, and not 
so little either, that I ever saw, and he is all snuggled all up cute like beside her.  I gave it to the P.D., 
and when it comes out, Bob, I want you to show this to the young lady.  Very nice.  This war isn't all 
bad, is it?  Of course, Bob is single and it's O.K. by him.  Another picture shows a Lt. Davis, a buddy of 
Red's who played end a few years ago on one of the Georgia Teams.  Let me have plenty of pictures 
boys.  They will all be made part of the permanent record of this thing after the war is over.  And son of 
a gun, here is another Wabash boy on Manila, Lt. Bob Watkins, APO 75, who tells me he has met the  
following, Capt. Messer, Bill Leach, K. Hayes, Stanley, Hiatt, Cover, Capt. Dick Kizer, Maury Penni- 
ston, J. Parrett, Doc Bill Pearson and a couple more, Woods, and Stellar from around Wabash.  Says the 
38th has had 110 days on the front, and that he is going up again the following week and is taking a 
bunch of Bullatons up to the front lines for the boys.  Says Bill Leach hasn't been getting his lately.  
Bob tells about seeing the destruction of Manila and that it is terrible.  Sends some Japanese money.  
Nice letter, Bob.  Here is a fine letter from D.S. Young on the USS Presque Isle APO 44.  Been getting 
the B right along.  Keeps him on his toes.  Will give your letter to Preacher Dunn.  He will like it, I'm 
sure.  We have a big flock of boys every Sunday, and they still talk baseball or track, and once in a 
while I inject a little about Moses.  Tough outfit to handle.  Nice letter from Marion Doshe (Tony) up at 
Great Lakes Co 443 Brks 270GL USNCC  Seems funny to have part of the boys just getting their boot 
training, and others being discharged.  Time flies on.  You must have a great outfit, Tony.  Say, Bermy 
Paul is back in town, after a long time on the U.S.S. Sierra AD18.  He sure gave me some spiel on the 
ships he had seen.  Said the Bullaton had him watching every boat they passed.  Told me about some- 
body that I had in the B as being on the USS Blue Jacket, and when he heard that it was anchored a half 
mile away, he got a boat and went out calling and sure enough, he found his man.  Forget now who it 
was.  Bermy looks good.  Bill Baker, on Guam.  Hope you locate the rest of that gang down there.  Say, 
I want to hear from Saipan one of these days that some of you fellows got together.  Another thing.  I 
hope that some of you boys will touch on Amchitka, in the Aleutians, and if you do, don't forget to hunt 
up my boy, Bob, who is stationed there in ordnance.  It is only 60 miles south of Kiska.  Also Bob Sch- 
uler is on Attu and Dick Runnels on Semichi.  Keep those spots in mind.  George Fishback, USS Ard 10 
FPO, San Francisco, writes that he received the Bull for a long time and then they stopped.  Now he is 
LET ME KNOW.  It will save us lots of trouble if you will report any changes at once.  This thing will 
be kept up until the war is over, so if yours stops, there is a reason for it, and I will check it.  George, I 
know you will be glad to get home and see your wife and son.  Would like to see them myself, and I 
would like to see Bob Watkin's family too.  I may pass them on the street a couple times a week and 
don't know them.  A fellow just can't know everybody and still keep tab on all the papas scattered all 
over the darned world.  This is a good letter, George.  I wonder how Bill is.  Haven't heard from him in 
a year.  Here's a letter from Sgt. Bob Clark, 214th Repl. Co. APO 67, in LeHarve, France.  Bob would 
give anything to meet somebody from Wabash.  I have Jack Rish at 67, and Homer Gault at 63, but they 
may have moved on now.  Had a letter from Wally Jones, a regular knockout from Germany.  Sounded 
like the Wally of old, always in trouble, nothing serious but little things that kept him from being pro- 
moted to a General.  Up and down he went, Pfc., Cpl. Then Pvt., then Cpl.  Now I see, it's Pvt.  A great 
kid, Wally is.  Remember that little "pee wee" out at High School, with the big grin, white-headed kid.  
Well, here is a card giving the address of C.M. Morein PH M 3/c USS Bonne Homme Richard Div V3-
p FPO, Sat Francisco.  Have had someone on that before, don't remember who.  Say, gang, after some 
three and a half hours here, I am just getting a good start but I have to quit.  Now, when you can write 
me.  Tell me your troubles and about your fun.  I won't embarrass you.  Tell me anything.  I got sense 
enough to know what and what not to print or read.  And let's have snap shots.  So long, gang for this 
time, and good luck from all Wabash.  Homer T.   
JUNE 12, 1945
     Well, we're back in the Indiana Hotel basement dining room again to eat, and the eats were pretty 
good.  The new manager, Mr. Bergen, gave us a little talk, and hopes to do great things for us.  Big 
Howard Halderman acted as the Charley McCarthy, and "ad-libbed" as usual.  But the big thing came 
with the introduction of Verling Weesner, Chuck Glazier and our old friend Bob Nelson Printy of 
Lagro.  Verling made a short and interesting talk followed by the address of the day by Chuck Glazier.  
He told us of the origin and the development of Judo in the armed forces, and called for volunteers 
among the Kiwanians to work out with him.  All the big mouths that usually speak up at once on any- 
thing less violent, kept quiet, and then of all people to offer himself as sacrifice, was our handsome, 
smiling, congenial John Lavelle.  As soon as he got up on the stage, I noticed the big mouthed boys 
opened up again, (including myself).  It was a nice exhibition all right, and Chuck knows his stuff, was 
our guess, and then Bob Printy was called on to add anything he might care too.  Bob really made a 
little history for Wabash as a Judo instructor in Calif.  He did the famous Hangman's Drop that Farmer 
Burns, made famous.  A rope is tied to a tree, and around the wrestler's neck, and he drops something 
like 40 feet, and it doesn't break his neck.  Well, Bob, did that stunt, but he don't want anymore of it.  I 
noticed today that his neck looked three inches longer than it used too.  Anyway, we all had a good 
time, and predict many more when all you guys in the service get back, and can do your stuff out at the 
City Park like they did after the last War.  The attendance was swell today.  Don't miss, fellows.  Keep 
those Bullatons going to the boys, and after while the boys will be coming back to us.  Bill Lynn is still 
on the sick list.  A card or letter wouldn't make Bill mad, would it, Bill?
     Fellows, the Bullaton very probably has a hundred thousand readers.  We have purposely kept it light, 
full of high powered monkey business, told you stories that would not do in church, and have let you 
bask in the sunshine of Bud Mahoney's poetic genius, and we hope to give you more and better stories 
and poetry as we go along, but today I have a poem written by a man, whom I knew 25 years ago, one 
of the best speakers, and keenest minds, I ever knew.  He was the Engineer of Maintenance of Way on 
the Big Four, left here for Indianapolis for a similar job, and during that period lost his eyesight.  For a 
Christian gentleman to lose that faculty, especially one who loved life and people as he did, was a terr- 
ible cross to bear.  That was twelve years ago, and he has learned by touch to play the piano, run the 
typewriter, and write poetry.  I am printing one here that I want all you boys to read, and read again, and 
then pass on.  I hope that many of you and your friends will get the full meaning of this poem, as it und- 
oubtedly is written by Mr. Burt coming from his heart, and applying to himself, but, this same philoso- 
phy, this same religion, can be yours too for the asking.  If you like it drop him a line and tell him so.  It 
will do him a world of good.  
                LOOKING WITHIN
I want my closest friends to see in me,
As together we walk the road of life,
That inner Truth that makes, and keeps me free
Of sin, and selfishness, lust, pride and strife.

Have I that overflowing Joy so Divine,
That keeps me singing, though dark be the day.
Knowing I am Christ's, and he is mine.
Rejoicing with Him on the upward way.

Do I Love and treat all men as my brothers,
Even though the Gospel they never have heard?
Denying self, to more fully serve others.
Feasting each day on God's precious, Holy Word.

Am I self-controlled, longsuffering, Kind, Good.
When trouble comes, and everything goes wrong.
Meek-but Faithful still, when I'm misunderstood.
Counting my blessings, praising God with song.

Do I have each day, a blessed quiet hour,
When I talk with God, and He talks with me.
When He gives me perfect Peace and power,
Redeemed by Jesus's blood, shed on Calvary.

Father, help me live very close to Thee,
In Tune, Listening to Thy slightest call.
Let the mind of Christ shine forth from me,
Loving, and serving Thee, the best of all.
Take every talent, thought, word and act
To help another and lift his heavy load.
Humbly, prayerfully, with Thy patient tact,
Bring straying, stumbling feet, back to Thy road.

Life soon ends, and my task here I lay down,
Thy face with friends and loved ones I shall see.
May no face be missing, this be my crown
And Thine  the glory, through all eternity.
-J.W. Burt, 1220 North State Street, Indianapolis, Indiana  
     Now, fellows, right off the bat, I might as well tell you the bad news as I just can't think about any-
thing else until I do.  Yesterday morning Phil Magner received a wire from the government that John 
was killed on Okinawa.  A terrible jolt for the town here, and a worse one for his fine parents, brother 
and sister.  We never turned out a finer boy than this one, and we are sick about it.  His folks will stand 
up under it, as they have this same foundation mentioned in the poem, but it seems such a shame.  We 
have some other good Wabash boys on Okinawa, and let's hope and pray they come thru.  John Magner 
is just another boy whose sacrifice will never be forgotten.  He is one more reason for all of you and us, 
dedicating our future to preventing recurrences of these world conflicts every twenty years.  Now, be- 
hind all the clouds, boys, don't forget the Sun is always shining.  This evening Gus Mathers rushed in 
here all out of breath with a letter from Jack, one of our crack transport pilots, in which he said that he 
had just seen Gilbert Wilson at Rheims, just after he had been liberated by the Russians.  Said it wou- 
ldn't be long until Gilbert would be heading back to this country.  Gilbert was shot down over Munich 
while piloting a big four motor plane, and held prisoner for many months by the Germans.  This makes 
us very happy.  We are glad too that Ward Vandegrift is once more back in this country and recupera- 
ting at Atterbury.  His folks tell me that he will be in Wabash yet this week, and that is fine.  The paper 
is full of Wabash boys winning honors.  "Eddie Ritches given Air Medal for distinguished service," 
"Pvt. C.P. Simpson given Bronze Star for Heroic Action Pfc. Harold Bostic freed from German Prison 
Camp," "Capt. Robert (Jelly Bean) Jones, awarded Legion of Merit in Germany" "Sgt. Glenn Sawyer 
recently released from German Prison Camp," and more and more.  Then yesterday comes a letter from 
Lawrence Stewart, father of Marjorie, that Marjorie had been invited to come to Europe at the request of 
General Eisenhower, not as a Holly wood girl, but as a typical hometown girl for a visit with all the  
boys.  What a break that is for Marjorie, and what a break for the boys, especially those from her old 
home town, WABASH, and she does want to meet as many of you fellows from Wabash as she can 
while she is over there.  So, everybody bust a gut to get to see her, and don't hesitate because you have- 
n't met her, to rush up and give her a big hug, and tell her where you're from.  Wouldn't mind being 
there myself.  So watch your papers, and keep your eyes and ears open for Marjorie, the pin-up girl for 
the Army, when she hits France and Germany along about June 15th.  (Don't you wish you were going 
along, John Olsen, in New York City?)  However, Marjorie isn't the only Wabash girl who is a pin-up.  
Our own June Shockey, known over the Ft. Wayne air waves as Penny West, has been chosen the pin-
up girl for a company that Jimmy Weesner of the South Side belongs to in Germany.  He wrote for her 
picture, and she is the big shot in his outfit.  That is O.K. for Wabash, too, Jimmy Weesner and Penny 
West.  Keep it up.  News letters?  No, these are love letter I have here from a lot of you.  Sure, I know 
the Bullaton is "redhot," "tops," "most widely read scandal sheet in the service" and all that, but you are 
feeding me a bunch of baloney.  I know my limitations, and sthe chief one being that I just haven't got 
the time nor the space to turn you out a masterpiece, nor the ability either, for that matter.  But your 
letters sound good, and I keep writing and the other K's send them out.  The big think I wonder about is 
the way this darned B gets to India, China, New Guinea, Germany, ahead of the Air Mail, and almost 
ahead of the invasion itself.  Here's a letter from 2nd Lt. Gerald Bowman from Red Bridge, with the 38th 
on Luzon.  Says the B keeps right up with him and they have chased the Nips all over that country and 
been chased some too.  Says Casey Campbell, Verlin Haupt, Doc Pearson, Bill Leach and Gene Penis- 
ton all send their regards to all you boys over the world.  Don't you guys forget we are trying to arrange 
a WASH DAY IN MANILA on JULY 15th, and, get that PICTURE.  A V-mail to L.M. Tyner sometime 
ago from Sgt. Lowell Davenport tells Leonard about being wounded back in December, and spending 
some time in the hospital, but now recovered.  He is at APO 636 in England.  Good Luck, fellow.  Here 
is a red hot letter from Paul Huddleston of Somerset.  He is traveling with the Amer. Mili. Government 
from one city to another thru France and Germany.  This is the first letter written by a man in that bra- 
nch, and is so good I am putting it in the Plain Dealer for everybody to read.  I wish I could print it here 
but don't have room.  When you write your wife or girl or folks, tell them to send you the clippings of 
these letters as they appear in the P.D.  Paul was a freshman in Medicine at Indiana when drafted.  Write 
again.  Here is one from good old Bill Sailors from APO 374 Nancy France.  Tells about meeting Bill 
Newby back in England in a chow line, and would like to see Clo Dohse in the 178th Gen. Hospital if he 
knew where it is.  I don't either but you fellows get full addresses.  Bill Sailors full address is Pfc. Wm. 
D. Sailors, 35900917, Hq, Sqdrn, 1st T.A.F. Sv. Somm. (Prov) APO New York City.  Clo Dohse, why 
don't you write Bill a letter and tell him where you are and me too.  Clo, little Mike is growing like a 
weed and looks exactly like you.  Betty looks fine too.  Bob Schmalzried writes from Walla Walla, 
Wash. That he is now discharged and will be back to Wabash about July 1st.  That's swell.  Wants to go 
into business here if there are locations.  Yes, there is going to have to be a lot of building done in Wab- 
ash after this War, both stores and homes, and you are the boys who can spearhead that movement.  I 
honestly believe we could use between 400 and 500 houses in Wabash after this war is over.  What an 
opportunity we have here if we just take advantage of it.  This town can really go places if we work to- 
gether.  Bob Lower, by the way, in the Navy, is on Okinawa.  Keep your eyes peeled boys for the SS 
J.S. Hutchinson.  You may see Bob, or James Richard Lower on the USS Wasp.  My own son-in-law is 
now on the Hawaiian Islands.  His boat is the Polana AKA 35.  I hope he meets Frances Vandegrift at 
Pearl harbor.  And Mary Jane (Hall) Smith tells me that her brother, Jack Hall, is at APO 959 which is 
Pearl harbor too.  I have wondered so much about Jack Ball too who was and probably is yet on Subma-
rine duty in the Pacific.  Dutch Struck was in town Sunday after receiving his discharge last week from 
Sampson, New York.  Dutch is a great guy in so many ways, and never forgot his gang of boys in Wa- 
bash High School.  He would give everything he has, (which isn't much) to get them all together again.  
Never will forget the time Dutch fainted over at Huntington.  It was his first season for us, and was he 
worked up over that game.  He was O.K.  Now, he goes back to Mishawaka again to teach and coach.  
Here is a letter of greeting from Pvt. Herb E. Jenks, 35965064, Co. A, 13th Bn. 4th Reg. AGF R.P. De- 
port #1 Ft. George Meade, Maryland.  Herb was on the boat ready to sail for Europe and they pulled 
them off on V-Day.  Sure I will send you Albert Weesner's address.  Now my space is gone and I must 
quit for tonite.  Keep that old chin up and we'll be seeing you.  Homer T.
JUNE 19, 1945
     A really great meeting this noon at the Indiana Hotel.  This boy Lewis from the Lewis and Lewis 
combination, So. Miami Street, is really a song leader deluxe.  He has what it takes, enthusiasm, spiz- 
orinktum, and what-have-you, enough to get the boys all singing.  And that program was the best yet.  
Today as our special guests we had Mr. And Mrs. Clarence Vandegrift, Mrs. Ward Vandegrift, and LT 
Ward himself.  What a wonderful talk he gave us on his being held a prisoner of war in Stalag Luft III 
for almost two years.   His B26, a Marauder twin engine bomber was shot down on the 9th mission. 
After being disabled, the plane was forced out of formation and received the full attention of the Ger- 
man fighters.  In leaving the open bomb bay, Ward was caught by the closing doors and held.  He pas- 
sed out and the next he knew he was on the ground, with several Italians running at him.  Then came the 
trip to the German camp by box car, , and then the boredom of his stay there, and finally toward the end, 
as the Russians advanced on Stalag Luft, the prisoners were again moved to Moosburg, one of the cess- 
pools of all prison camps.  Finally came liberation and what a wonderful feeling it must have been to 
see those American Jeeps come driving up to the gates.  Ward told the story without preparation, in 
perfect English, and as matter of fact as if he were attending a Sunday school picnic.  The little smile he 
used to carry with him is still there, and I think his viewpoint on the questions asked him was splendid.  
I could partially sense how pleased, proud and happy his wife and folks were, as Ward was on of "my 
boys," a real fellow who did a real job.  We wish you plenty of luck, Ward.  
     Now, today, boys in service, we are enclosing an "Honorary Membership" card to the Wabash Cha- 
mber of Commerce.  It carries the signature of the new president of the C. of C. Leewell Carpenter, and 
that of that unimpeachable secretary, G.T. (Bud) Mahaney, and with this card goes the very best wishes 
of the city and especially of the 300 members of the businessmen's organization.  This is one of Bud's 
brainstorms and I think it is fine.  The picture on the reverse side is an Air View taken by Bill Owens a 
couple summers ago before he got into the Army, from the cockpit of Howard Hutchens' airplane.  It is 
a beautiful picture, showing the Court House, from the very steeple of which hung the first electric lig- 
hts ever suspended in the world for street lighting purposes, and the Presbyterian Church, and the Chri- 
stian Church, where almost 200 of you boys gathered on Sunday morning to hear your teacher tell about 
"football and Moses".  And the City Hall and on out and across the river into the country. Yes, it is a 
swell picture of a great little city, "where good people love to live" and if you like the picture, drop Pfc. 
William D. Owens, 35582572, A.A.F. Weather Wg., Asheville, North Carolina a letter and tell him so, 
and, either Carpy or Bud would sure like to hear from you on the honorary membership.  I think it's a 
great stunt, that no other city in the United States has done for their boys.  And don't lose this card. 
     Today, Mary Jane Hall-Smith, Jimmie's wife, came tripping out of Teel's and said, "Hey, Homer T., 
you're always wanting stories, to pass on to the boys.  I heard one that I thot was cute and not too bad."  
She had it typed and here it is.  Pretty good, and I appreciate Mary Jane's cooperation.
     Here's the story of the \war wife who got worried about the subject of sex education for her 
youngest-a lad about seven years old.
     It was going to be awfully embarrassing to tell Bobby the things her husband had told 11 year old 
Jim just before he sailed overseas.
     And then she had a bright idea and called Jim.  "Look, son," she said.  "Remember what Dad told 
you about the facts of life before he went overseas?  About the birds and bees?"
     "Yes," said Jim.
     "Well, I wish you'd take Bobby aside and make sure that he gets the right idea."
     Jim went out and hauled his kid brother away from his playmates.
     "Listen," he said, "Mom wants me to explain something to you – Do you know where babies come 
     "Sure," said Bobby, who had learned fast in the street.
     "You know why people get married and how they have kids?"
     "Sure, that's old stuff," said Bobby. 
     "Well, it's the same with bees and birds – see!
     Now, fellows, and when I say  fellows, I mean gals too, all over the world, let's get under way on the
News of the day.  With each passing day more of our Wabash boys are getting further and further away 
from Home and while some are returning more and more are leaving the States.  To them we wish the 
best of luck.  The Bullaton will go with you if you will keep us posted on where you are.  News? Barrels  
of it.  Just saw Lt. Kenneth (Bill) Gray, just in from the west coast and the Pacific after some fifteen ye- 
ars in the navy.  He is on his way to Jacksonville, Florida.  I remember when Bill won the Fleet Champ- 
ionship in wrestling in his weight.  He was one of Coach Thom's tough boys.  Looks plenty tough right 
now to me.  I remember Bill when he was a baby not much bigger than Clo Dohse's baby is now.  The  
two Daywalt boys, Jim and John, got in yesterday at the same time.  Running around together and hav- 
ing a big time.  Yesterday I saw Edgar Burke on the street back from Italy and Germany.  Ran into a lot 
of rough experience.  Glad to be back, and we're glad he is back.  Harold Butler returned from Italy lat- 
ely after being wounded in three places, looking good, and feeling pretty fair considering everything.  
Jack Butler by the way, joined the paratroopers and has this address, Pvt. Jack Butler 35972291, Co. C, 
30th I.T.B. 3rd Plat. Camp Croft, So. Carolina.  Had a swell letter from Jack a few days ago, and he likes 
it fine.  He can take it, that boy, is my guess.  Dick Wilson is in the same kind of an outfit.  And Bill  
Bowman leaves too tomorrow for some air base, I don't have the address yet, and there is another boy 
who will get along.  Plenty of stuff.  Bill has, and all Wabash, wishes him luck.  Another gang of Wab- 
ash boys graduated last week, and I hate to see them grow up, especially now.  Last Sunday afternoon, I 
attended an open house for Lt. Leroy Bakehorn, home now from Guam after flying the Liberators out 
over the Philippines and Japan.  Looked swell, and apparently none the worse for wear.  Nice wife and a 
nice little kid.  Boys, there are more little kids around town right now.  You'd be surprised at the collec- 
tion we have.  Tomorrow night out at the park, we hold the first big program.  Maybe pretty damp and 
cold as it has rained so darned much.  Everything is wet in Wabash now.  I heard Bill Delaplane say to- 
day that when he woke up this morning his bed was wet.  Yes, I wondered, too, but I didn't ask him to 
go into details.  Now, the letters.  They are swell, fellows.  One from George Jolly from Germany.  Wh-  
at a letter and what a guy.  Speaking of talents in Wabash he makes this remark, "Wabash, the home of 
Rod Hipskind, the Cartoonist, the home of Bud Mahaney, the poet, the home of Homer T., the windjam- 
mer."  O.S. George, it don't sound so good, but this "wind from Wabash" is going to keep blowing just 
as long as you birds write back here from every corner of the earth and tell me that everybody loves the 
Bullaton, from Evansville to Gary, and Pittsburg and Keokuk, and doctors write back and tll us that the 
stories and poems travel thru the hospitals, and even the news.  Would love to see you, George, you we- 
re one of my favorites.  You always laughed at my jokes and stories, no matter how corny, which rem- 
inds me that simply must print this little German poem that George sent me from Germany a month ago.  
Got it from an old German over there and he thot it was pretty doggoned funny, and sent it over for the 
B.  So here it is, and I do hope that any of you people who are too finicky won't read it.  Remember this 
Bullaton and all its effort really goes out to get some belly laughs from boys in service who welcome a 
good laugh.  Now read this, and pass it on, but don't send it home to the folks.  I don't want them to get 
the wrong opinion of me or of George Jolly.
                                        DOT LIDDLE FUR CAP
Der night next vas Christmas                              Ven, as ve neared
Der night-it vas still                                             De crip of our boy
Der stockins ver hung                                          Our youngest and sveetest-
By der chimmey to fill.                                        Our pride and our choy.

Nodding vas stirring                                            His eye's ver vide open
Atall in the house                                                 As he peeked from his cot
For fear dot St. Nickolas                                      Und seen everythink
Vood nix comeraus.                                             Dot his mudder has got.

Der children vas vashed                                       But he not even notice
Und goner to der bed                                            Der toys in her lap,
Und Mudder in nightgown                                   He chist ask, "For who
Und me on Ahead.                                                Is dot little fur cap?"

Vas searching around                                           Und mudder said "Hush,"
In der trunk for der toys                                        Und she laffed wid delite,
Ve krept around Kviet                                          "I tink I giff dot
Not to make any noise.                                          To your fodder tonight!"

Now mudder vas carrying
All der toys in her gown
Showing her person
From her vaist on down.
     Then today, I had a letter from one of the real princes of all young men from Wabash, Warnie Sun- 
day.  Warnie flies a torpedo bomber from a carrier out west.  Hopes to meet Rich McClintoch, who has 
charge of a machine gun outfit, and might see Guthrie sometime on Guam.  Incidentally, he went over 
on Bill Sharple's ship.  Has heard that Bill Fisher is nearby.  Bill flies a personnel transport plane.  Has 
seen Ernie Paulus several times.  Your Bullatons will follow you pronto, Warnie.  Be as careful as your 
disposition will permit you.  Warnie's brother, Fred, took off recently for the Pac. And Red is over in 
China, where they eat that delicious Chinese diet almost exclusively.  Write again, Warnie.  Saw Elean- 
ore cross the street the other day.  Quite a gal.  Swell letter here from T. Cornell from someplace, can't 
tell me where, just Navy, but says the B. is "worth its weight in Gold."  I read the rules and they are hot.  
Will read them to the K Club.  Plenty clever.  Had a great letter from Maurice (Penny) Penniston, from 
Luzon.  He really covers the ground in this letter.  He is with the 38th.  Sure, Penny, you can lay all over 
the Court House lawn when you get back.  Hope you remember the "Wabash Day in Manila" on July 
15th, that we are trying to promote.  Your letter as well as Gerald Bowman's, and Red Watkins' went in- 
to the Plain Dealer this week, and were all plenty good for the folks to read back here in Wabash.  Clo 
Dohse in a letter I just received tells me that he is back with his outfit, but may not fly again right away.  
Located at a large field 20 miles north of Paris at Beaumonte, France.  Can't some of you boys close by 
look him up.  Here is one from Bob Yarnelle from Calcutta, India.  That is where Jim Whisler is.  There 
will be a flock of you fellows thru that area from here on, I have no doubt.  Will try to keep you posted.  
Here is a nice letter from Max (Bud) Heck, raised by Sam Palmer and with Joe Palmer.  Says he met Joe 
way back on Anzio, and didn't see him again until the "other day" when he phoned him.  They had 
chow together and really slung the bull.  Heck is in the 3rd Division that really gave the Jerries the works 
all the way from N. Africa to Berlin.  Their outfit is called the Blue and White Devils.  The only other 
APO 3 that I have is Earl Ravenscroft.  You might get together.  The picture you saw of me in the P.D., 
Bud, didn't do me justice.  I have a much better picture that that---(taken twenty years ago.)  If I had the 
money, I'd send out my picture to all you boys, so that you would know me when you get back.  Hello, 
Jim McVicker.  Jim left Okinawa sometime ago, and is just roaming around on that LSM 208.  Says he 
heard a Leyte radio program the other night, and heard song requests made by three Wabash boys in 
Leyte, two of the Campbells and Ralph Biggs.  Small world, isn't it.  George Price is with the 32 Div.  
If you hit Linagyen Gulf, you should find some Wabash product there.  ALL OF YOU SHOULD REG- 
ISTER YOUR NAMES AT THE RED CROSS when ever you are on Liberty.  Now, I must quit for this 
time. G'night and G'luck.  Homer T. 
June 26, 1945
     All right, all right, were off to a late start but here w go again.  The Kiwanis boys gathered around
the festive board once more at the Indiana Hotel, and feasted (?) to our hearts content.  Then Homer Ro- 
deheaver Sellers (big shot at the General Tire) led us in a flock of songs.  Today, we had two service- 
men as guests, John Garpow of the navy, and Lt. Leroy Bakehorn. Of the Army Air Forces.  Leroy 
made a little talk and answered some questions asked him by members of the club.  He flew a Liberator 
out of Guam over the Philippines, Okinawa, Formosa, and plenty of hot spots out in the Pacific.  He did 
a swell job in the Air, and he makes a big hit with me.  I like the young man, and if I had an organiza- 
tion looking for bright, industrious young fellows, he's one boy, I would find a place for.  Then we had 
a little matter of business brought up by some of the more conservative members of the club, which was 
attended to, and we got along to the very splendid movie provided by W. Herald Talbert, local Dodge 
Bros. dealer, phone number 1342.  The picture was very good, giving us some definite ideas of the mag- 
nitude of America.  Darned good picture.  NOW, gentlemen, both at home and abroad, thru the courtesy 
and the generosity of the Ford Meter Box company, we are able this week to forever dispel from the 
minds of boys from Logansport, Illinois or Texas any doubt regarding the fact that Wabash WAS the 
FIRST electrically lighted city in the entire world.  Here on this folder you will find the very stories that 
appeared in two Chicago papers, as well as Kokomo reporting the demonstration on that famous night 
back in 1880.  We have copies of these papers.  So, turn it on, you boys from Wabash.  Show this thing 
to everybody and then sit down and write John or Wilbur Ford about it.  Thirteen hundred of these 
things are going out this week all over the world.  Make the most of it.
     An old darky got up one night at a revival meeting and said:
     "Bruders an' Sisters, you knows an' I knows dat I ain't been what I oughter been.  I'se robbed hen-
roosts and stole haugs, an' tole lies, an' got drunk, an' slashed folks wi' mah razor an' shot crapts, an' 
cussed an' swor; but I thank the Lord der's one thing I ain't nebber done; I ain't nebber lost mah 

Reporter:  "Well, boss, I've got a perfect news story."
Boss:  "The man bit the dog?"
Reporter: "Naw, the bull threw the salesman."   

Charley:  "I can't see what keeps you women from freezing."
Smart Steno:  "You aren't supposed to, big boy."

Ken: "Look, is that lady's dress torn or am I seeing things?"
Ray:  "Both."

Wifey:  "Mrs. Smith has had three new hats since I bought this one."
Hubby:  "Well, dear, if Mrs. Smith was as pretty as you she wouldn't be so dependent on milliners."

Old Colored Mammy:  "I'se wants a ticket for Florence."
Ticket Agent (after ten minutes of weary thumbing over railroad guides):   "Where is Florence?"
Old Colored Mammy:  "Settin' over dar on de bench."

"I bought a cow that was supposed to have held the county record for blessed events.  I have had he now 
for over a year and nothing has happened."
"Somebody must have given you a bum steer."

Old Maid:  "I bet that man was embarrassed when you caught him looking over the transom."
Second O.M.  "Gosh, yes, I thought he would never get over it."
O.K., boys, get on the beam and let's go.  So much news of fellows and gals that I don't know where to 
start.  Verling Weesner, discharged on points a couple weeks ago is driving around town with a big grin 
on his face.  He has been offered forty-seven jobs since he got back, but just now he is taking it easy.  
Don't like the rationing however, and I don't either, but he will get used to it.  I just heard from Betty 
Hickey Dohse that Clo's outfit may be headed toward home, and she is very happy. I phoned her and 
could hear young Mike putting up a big squawk in the background.  Today young Eldo Ridenour wal- 
ked into the office with a big grin on his face, and said, "Well, you better stop the Bullaton.  I am home 
again," and then he went on to tell me how he got that Bullaton everytime the mail hit the ship he was 
on, and how much it meant to him, and even a bunch of fellows that never heard of Wabash until they 
read about it in the B.  This morning a young lady phoned and said, "Homer T., can you come over to 
the house?  We want some insurance on the household goods."  I went and it turned out to be Claude 
Stevens another of my Bullaton customers of two years standing.  Today, Bill Lutz's mother dashed in 
with a big box containing jewelry from China that Red Sunday and Bill Lutz had picked up.  Really 
swell stuff, Chinese silver.  Kind of worried me, as I thot the boys may have reverted and robbed a Chi- 
naman.  She also told me how the two of them went out and routed out Major George Bosch, and the 
three of them went out and ate together.  This all happened in China, a long ways from home.  What a 
trio.  Red Sunday, Bill Lutz and George Bosch.  Would like to have looked in on that party.  And incid- 
entally, one of those silver rings properly adorned would look awfully good on Homer T.'s third finger 
of the left hand.  You boys will be glad to know that Dr. Bill Pearson, who went with the 38th, the Nat- 
ional Guard, down thru Tennessee, California, Hawaii and New guinea, and then got in on the toughest 
fighting on Luzon, is back in the states and down at Atterbury.  Has been wounded a couple times, and 
decorated, and Lord knows what all.  The boys of the 38th, the Haupts, Bill Leach, Maury Pennisten, 
Harry Messer, Lawrence Gurtner, Gerald Bowman and a host of others in the 38th will never forget 
mild-mannered, happy-go-lucky Doc Pearson, who went with them right into the very thickest of the 
fighting, dressed their wounds, and ordered them back to a hospital.  Whatever it took, Doc had it.  
When Harold Howell was wounded on Luzon, Doc even wrote his folks and told them not to worry, that 
he was looking after the kid just like he had done since he was born.  This was one case where the old 
family doctor really went all the way with the boys of his hometown, and, they won't forget it.  Now, 
while talking about Luzon and Manila, please keep in mind, all you sailors, soldiers, and marines, that 
we have set JULY 15, as WABASH DAY IN MANILA.  Capt David E. Glasco, 0-343823 HQ, U.S.A., 
S.O.S. APO 707, San Fran. Is right there in Manila now waiting for you to drop him a line and tell him 
you will be there.  Meeting at Noon at the biggest Red Cross Center in Manila.  Glasco is Cecil Mills' 
son-in-law, and a great buy.  And don't fail to get a picture of the group.  About 50 or 60 of you boys 
will get this that I know are close by, and a lot of you that I can't tell where you are.  So keep the date, 
July 15th, in mind.  I have a note here that Bob Ogan, Austin Hileman, Arnold Hileman, and Wm. Ru- 
pert are on the Philippines at APO 24.  Just had a letter today from George Price in F.A. with the 32nd on 
Luzon, and he tells me they have finished their mission on upper Luzon.  Hope you get in on this Mani- 
la affair, George.  I took your letter over to your mother and she got one in the same mail.  She's tops, in 
all respects.  What a letter, George.  I will read it to the club.  You call your outfit the Red Arrows.    
Wonder if Max Derck is still with the Jolly Rogers outfit.  Who is it that belongs to the Red Raiders, the 
Big Bombers flying out of the Phil?  Today I had a swell letter from Lt. Bill Barrett, Ralph's black hea- 
ded boy, who won so many honors in the athletic events at various camps during his training, has now 
been assigned to fly a B-29.  Says it looks awful big to him.  Don't doubt it.  I remember that Charley 
(my kid) said when he first crawled into a B24, that it scared him, and he wondered if that big box car 
would ever leave the ground.  But it did, and took him thru lots of experiences, and brot him back, both 
safe and sound, Thank God.  And we wish you the same kind of good luck, Bill Barrett.  I believe, Bill, 
you are the first Wabash pilot to fly a B29, although I just heard today that Parker Kuldau is making a 
change and it looks like the B 29.  Parker has been instructing down in Texas for a long time.  Warnie 
Sunday, Navy flier, has been making the rounds out in Honolulu with whom?  Ernie Ebbinghouse.  
That's right.  I hope they run into Hubert DuBois, as he is there just now.  Incidentally, Hubert, every- 
body says that Billy looks just like his grandpa (that's me).  Hard on the boy, but makes me happy.  
He's quite a kid.  Tommy is shootin' baskets out in the back yard, and has taken quite a fancy to Dell 
Huddleson, who operates the little repair shop across the alley.  By grapevine, I understand that Fred 
Sunday is back in the Philippines again, as a photog on a B 29.  Bob, (my Bob, up on Amchitka in the 
Aleutians) writes home for a rod and reel.  Seems that it don't get dark up there at night, and bob wants 
to get in a little fishing, after the daily chores are done.  Can't buy one from a store but maybe some 
good Kiwanian has a rod and reel we could ship to the Aleutians.  A letter and pictures here from Sgt. 
Bob Baker, now in Rheims.  Official photographer in the Army.  Gets around.  Maybe you can run into 
Margie Stewart on her tour of France and Germany, and send us a picture.  Try it, Bob.  And I know 
Margie is there as I just received a picture of Margie clipped from a Paris paper and mailed by George 
Jolly which said she arrived on Friday, June the 8th.  I hope she sees some of you boys.  Another letter 
from Pfc. Bill Thompson from APO 322, in New Guinea in which he encloses a copy of the mimeo 
paper he edits for their group, in which he has a drawing of Margie Stewart and tells the world that she 
hails from WABASH, INDIANA.  Did you boys ever hear of anybody from Peru, Warsaw, Huntington 
or even Marion being in this war and any celebrities of any kind?  I never did.  Swell little paper, bill.  
You asked about Forrest Knotts.  He is a Sgt. With the 616 Eng. Base Equip. Co. with your same APO, 
and you should locate him some place.  Yes, Carl Buehler is there now and will send his address in a 
letter.  Your Bull comes from my own office, and the girls at the light office address it each week.  You 
have a swell wife.  I know that as I am one of the best judges of women, especially good looking wo- 
men, that has ever been developed in Wabash.  Now, here is one of those things that happens once in a 
while, I just opened a letter here from Johnny Lautzenhiser, of Urbana, who married Charley York's 
daughter from Roann, and it was written back in April 28th, and mailed May 5th.  Wonder where the 
devil this letter has been all this time.  In it, Johnny expresses his appreciation for the B. to the K. Club.  
Says practically every fellow in his company reads it until it is so tattered and worn that it can hardly be 
read.   He wants Lt. Max Brunn's address.  Here 'tis, Lt. Max Brunn, 0-1556851, 606 Ord. Co. (AMM) 
APO 513 c/o P.M., New York.  I hope you can meet Max.  He is a great fellow.  I don't have anyone 
else at 445, but I do have Mark Ashley in Rd Cross work at 444.  Now, boys I have a barrel of dope 
here to sling at you but I must quit for tonight, or I will be meeting some of these boys coming down to 
early morning breakfast.  Just keep hitting boys, and never give up.  No matter how tired you become or 
worn out or homesick, just remember that the other fellow is probably in worse shape or worse off than 
you are.  Keep that old smile working over time.  It helps the other fellow as well as yourself.  Just ride 
it out, boys, and you will all be back before you know it.  Until next week this time, so long, Homer T.  
JULY 17, 1945
     Well, here we go, and old "Good Will Unlimited" is on the beam once more for the 169th time.  After 
some woman this afternoon said, "My, Homer T., that Bullaton must take a lot of your time," I said,   
"No, not so much, just about 3 ½ hours per week in writing the thing."  Then for the first time I took my 
pencil and figured how much time I had spent in just writing this lousy sheet, and here it is.  3 ½ hours 
per week for 169 weeks is 591 hours, and with 168 hours in each week counting 24 hours per day inc- 
luding Sundays figures out 3 months and 21 days of solid writing, or 7 months and 12 days of solid 
writing at 12 hours per day.  With 82 lines per page on both sides multiplied by 169 multiplies up to 
something like 571, 172 words.  No wonder this typewriter is a wreck, and no wonder I don't get rich.  I 
haven't time.  But honestly, fellows, after all the razzing, all the criticism, none of which makes any 
difference to me, we all know we are doing a marvelous thing for the kids who a few years ago were 
throwing corn on our porches, playing football and basketball in the schools of the county, when we are 
able to send old Wabash and all it means to them, right along from basic or boot to every battle front of 
the world, and even as this is written a gang of them are trying to get together in Manila in the Philip- 
pines for a "Wabash Day" as they did on Guam, and as they will later in Paris, Calcutta, Berlin and pos- 
sibly Tokyo, (if there is anyplace left to meet in!)  No other city in the USA proved to her boys that the 
county seat town was the First electrically Lighted City in the World (thanks to Wilbur and John Ford,) 
and certainly no city sent her service men a picture of the home town with a membership to the C. of C.  
Yes, you have something to feel proud of, and so have the boys, and so have I.  Swell meeting today, 
with Lt. Jack Martin, now home from Texas, and Lt. John Goodman, Jerry Plummer's husband, as spec- 
ial guests.  Rev. Wilmeth of the Evan. Church made a speech and he made one, I mean.  My ears are 
burning yet, as he talked on morals, sins, etc., and of course, I got to thinking about that poem.  Must 
have been a Roman Holiday for my critics and censors.  Good speech, anyway, and I wish the Club 
would let me finish the speech he made next week.  It is a lot worse thing than loose living and ornery 
stories that is back of this war.  It is lust for power and money and misguided ambition to get what the 
other fellow has, by any means, fair or foul.  Selfishness, greed and the philosophy of getting more than 
you give, is back of more of the troubles of the world than anything else.  Well, enough of this, let's get 
U.S.S. Wharton – Steven Barrett                               U.S.S. Allegan-G.N. McVicker
U.S.S. Beatty – Robert M. Barnett                             L.S.T. 895-Eugene l. Myers
U.S.S. Piedmont – A.D. Cassiday                              U.S.S. Tracy-Jack Mendenhall
S.S. Donnerlake – Glen Copeland                              U.S.S. Sheridan-Donald Eugene Myers
M.T.B. Ron 38 – Rex Anderson                                 U.S.S. Hancock-Gene Parker
L.C.T. 1167-Homer Clevenger                                   L.S.T. 748-Ens Charles Pogue
L.S.T. 345-J.J. Delaplane                                            U.S.S. Mayrant-Ralph Rhoads
U.S.S. Polana AKA 35-Hubert Dubois                       G.S. Blue Jacket-Charles Reed
M.T.B. Ron 16-Russell Enyeart                                  U.S.S. Frederick Funsten-Gordon Rhoads
M.T.B. Ron 30-Wm. E. Fishback                                L.C.I. 957-James H. Reynolds
I.S.S. Izard-Jack Fleshood                                           U.S.S. Topeka-Charles Ravenscroft
U.S.S. ARD-George Fishback                                     S.S. Mary Lyon-Dean Swan
U.S.S. Doyen-Durward Harrold                                  U.S.S. Pickens-James Sullivan
L.C.I. 1008-Kenneth Idle                                            U.S.S. Casco-Eugene Stone
U.S.S. Lovering-Jerry Jontry                                      U.S.S. Kwajslein-Lt Wm Sharples
S.S.J.S. Hutchinson-C. Robert Lower                         U.S.S. Lloyd E. Acres-Max Simons
L.S.M. 208-James McVicker                                      L.S.T. 678-Daniel Young
                                                                                     U.S.S. Essex-Oliver G. Miller
     Depend on Theron Burnworth in the Philippines APO 75 to send me the following Army version of 
the 23rd Psalm.
Uncle Sam is our Shepard
And we Shall not Want
He maketh us to lie down on the hard ground
He leadeth thru the still and rough waters,
He restoreth our clothes
He leadeth us thru the hills, mountains and seas for his Nation's sake,
Yea, though we walk thru the valleys and the shadow of death.
We catch the devil, but he is with us
Our Chaplain, our guns and foxholes they comfort us.
The Mess Sergeant prepareth a table for us in the presence of our enemies,
He giveth us plenty of water and synthetic lemondade.
Our cups don't runneth over
Surely beans, bully beef, "C" rations, spam,
Shall follow us all the days of our Army life
And we shall dwell in pup tents, pyramidals, or Barracks
For-ever in the Army.  Amen
     All right, gang, round the world, let's get at the meat of this thing.  Yes, next Sunday will be Wabash 
Day in Manila, and we hope it clicks.  If it does, then we stage one in Paris, maybe at the office of the  
National Broadcasting, who knows.  Anybody got any bright ideas on where to meet in Paris on Labor 
Day?  Maybe the Arc de Triumph at high noon?  Let's have all you guys in or close to Paris write me a 
line immediately with your ideas.  No kidding, I mean it.  Say, I ran the names and ships above as I have 
had a big demand on to know the names of sailors and ships, and next week, I will give you some more.  
Clip this list, stick it in your belt, and keep your eyes peeled for them.  Wish I had space here to tell you 
of the many instances where the smart boys followed the names and ships in the B. closely, and then su- 
ddenly in the harbor appeared a ship with the same or number on it, among the crew of which was some 
homesick kid, just itching to see somebody, and he did.  I'll tell you one.  Three months ago I got a let- 
ter from Verle M. Williams, and he said he hadn't met a soul from Wabash for a couple years and was 
stuck on a little island, Eniwetok, out in the Pac.  Would I please put his name and island in the B. hop- 
ing somebody from Wabash would see it, and hunt him up.  I did and mailed the Bullatons, 1340 of 
them, and sure enough while his ship was lying in the harbor at Eniwetok, John Bradley received his 
mail, and read his B. and saw where Williams was right there on that little island.  He got leave, went 
ashore, found Williams, spend a day with him, took Williams out to the ship for a day, and a fine time 
was had by all.  Now he says that on that same ship, soon after leaving Eniwetok, he saw a boy from 
Wabash among the passengers, a red-headed boy named Baer from W. Hill Street.  It was Bob Baer.  
Too bad all three couldn't have had that time together.  So watch for these ships.  And any of you guys 
that lay over in Eniwetok, hunt up Verle Williams, CBMU 577.  Fred Sunday is back in town after be- 
ing operated on for appendicitis on Guam three weeks ago.  Fred's wife, the former Doris Gurtner was 
operated on here at home at the same time Fred was in the hospital in Guam.  Both are doing fine, and I 
saw Fred and Harold Howell in church Sunday morning.  Cal Votaw, on his way from the ETW to the 
Pac., is home and he and his wife, Katie Boles Votaw, were in church too.  Cal told me tonight to tell 
the boys on Guam or Saipan to watch for him, and he would be showing up out there after while on a B-
29.  Today I learned that Max Friermood, rather than stay in this country as an instructor was now going 
out for his third hitch in the Pac.  He can have it, but we have to admire his guts.  His brother, a S/Sgt. 
Armored Gunner on a Flying Fort. Is still in Italy waiting for orders to come home, and the brother-in-
law, Peter Schultz is a flight engineer on a B 29 on Saipan, with 8 missions over Tokyo up to date.  Max 
will be located on Tinian.  Bob Clark latest address is 214th Rep. Company A.P.O. 67, New York City.  
Plenty of luck, Bob.  Virgil Manning, a former institute boy and Lafontaine H.S. student spent an hour 
in the office here the other day, and told me of the times he caught when Bill Rupert pitched, and Bob 
Curless played 1st base.  I believe Rupert is in the Philippines, and Curless is in Calif. As an athletic 
instructor.  S/Sgt. Paul Porter, of the 151st Inf. APO 38 writes me from the Phil.  Nice letter, Paul.  Your 
name is on the mailing list from here on.  Swell of Wilbur Cox to let you read his.  Boy, I hope you can 
see a big gang on Wabash Day in M. which you say you are looking forward too.  He finishes with, 
"KEEP THOSE JOKES AND POEMS COMING.  WE LOVE 'EM."  O.K. boy, we will do our best.  
Frank McVicker syas he is going where Jim Montgomery has been, and that is Okinawa.  Hate to see 
that Guam crowd busted up.  Want to hear from Bob Hastings down at Hollandia, New Guinea.  Ken-  
neth Alger, by the way has been moved from New Guinea up to the Philippines.  Everett Mowrer is 
home from Newfoundland at APO 864, and says when he goes back he wants to have some of the Wab- 
ash boys hunt him up.  He is a mechanic for the ATC and isn't hard to find.  Planes by the hundred go 
thru his base everyday to and from Europe.  Bob Shivers new address Co. C, 20th ASTB, Fort Knox, 
Ky. And Lt. Byron Kennedy, 7100 Meadow Lane, Chevy Chase, Md. Ernie Hartman, by the way is 
located at Maastrick, Holland in the French Alps, really between Belgium and Holland.  Boy, is my 
back stiff.  Been pushing a hand plow out in the garden.  Got a lot of potatoes coming up.  Going to eat 
this winter, --I guess.  Looks doubtful right now though but we can take it, if Bill Lutz, George Bosch, 
Gay Robinson and Red Sunday can eat that Chinese food, consisting of rice and fried wooley worms.  
SAY, Dick Spiece, the old Basket B. player from Roann had some experience.  He and another guy in a 
jeep pulled up behind a traffic jam in France.  Dick looked, jumped up and yelled, "My G--, it's Margy 
Stewart from Wabash."  He jumped from the jeep, tore thru the crowd, and up to the jeep, and Majorie 
knew him in a minute.  Margy is going great guns in her tour and is bringing great credit and honor to 
the old burg of Wabash.  Keep it up, Majorie, and you too Dick.  "Shenie" Smith, where are you, Iwo 
Jima or the Philippines?  Write.  John Bloomer, your letter regarding the old days in the balcony made 
he homesick.  Yes, I have known lots of boys and we did have a fine time, although you say you can't 
remember anything you learned.  Maybe you learned more than you think you did. Nice letter John, out 
in Camp Pinedale, Calif.  We will have a reunion someday.  Yes, letters are coming in everyday now on 
that aerial view of Wabash.  A letter here from WAC Ordie Glass, from the 400th AAF BU, Presidio, 
San Francisco, Calif. Tells me how pleased she was to get that card with the picture.  She says she just 
has seven points but she should have more points than that.  Any of you fellows close by, hunt her up as 
she hasn't yet seen a familiar face.  What of our other girls?  Long time since I have heard from Dorothy 
Walker, or Clarabelle Davis.  About time.  Hello, here's a letter from Sgt. Merrill O. Kendall 1389 AAF 
BU NAD ATC APO 856 New York which is Bermuda.  He says thousands are passing thru his base 
everyday and he is easy to find.  Got married in Niagara Falls in May. Fine girl he met a couple years 
ago there.  Says I should approve as she is a Republican, and her old man approved as he had recently 
got a permit to carry a shotgun.  So they got married and hope to help build up a nice Republican maj- 
ority in twenty or thirty years from now.  That is the spirit, Merrill.  I hope you make good and believe 
you will.  Hello, boys, here are two letters I should mention, one from Senator Homer E. Capehart and 
the other from Congressman Forest Harness, both in Washington.  Both are loud in their acclaim of the 
B. and Edna Van Ducen, who acts as secretary to Forest, in a note fastened to the letter, says, "Don't 
you dare let anybody censor the Bullaton until I have a chance to read it."  Nice going, Edna, and thanks 
a lot, Homer Capehart and Forest Harness, you are two grand guys.  Now, with a barrelful of news still 
untold, I must quit and call it a day.  Homer T. 
JULY 31, 1945
     Dr. Schwalm, president of Manchester College gave us a splendid address in Kiwanis on the subject 
of Education throughout America.  Undoubtedly the colleges and universities have had a rough session 
during the war with colleges practically taken over the by the Army and Navy, and in the years just 
ahead, these same colleges will be swamped with boys wanting to take up where they left off.  The pro-
Visions of the GI Bill, will give every service man, single or married, his opportunity for an education.  
We are proud of the record of Manchester College.  They have made an enviable record in every way, 
scholastics, athletics, and are turning out many fine young men.  The best environment in the world at 
Manchester College.  Well, we had two new members, Art Devlin and Robert Lutz, and they are two 
live wires.  This Devlin boy from the Container Corporation is hotter than a fire cracker, good organ- 
izer, promoter of the first order, ideas galore and we can use him, and he can use us.  Bob Lutz is sure of 
the younger generation, and should put some new life into our organization, which reminds me of what 
a prominent Kiwanian from another city told me.  That he had heard a couple times now lately that Wa- 
bash has the model Kiwanis Club.  Strong in numbers, enthusiastic, happy, (loving one another) and 
were the unquestioned leaders in their community. Of course, I laughed, even though it is so.  We have 
been getting lots of publicity, lately, but not from the Kiwanis International Magazine.  However, when 
Wabash Kiwanis gets two stories in the two leading state papers, and on the front page of the Chicago 
Tribune, all in one week, it is something to think about and brag about to the Rotarians.  But Mahaney, 
green with envy, says that they are going to get Rotary on the front page of some big paper if he has to 
shoot Doc Whisler or Butch Howard to do it.  And, yesterday, Marvin Rife of near largo, who lately 
gave that sparkler to Betty Davis, Bill Delaplane's office girl, was with us.  Betty has been mimeogra- 
phing this Bullaton for a couple years now, and I am glad to see that she is good for something besides.  
Now, once more, SAVE THOSE VOTES for our candidate, Miss Dorothy Small.  She is a dandy, and 
certainly looks like a Queen.  Boy, oh, boy.  Bring your votes to Kiwanis.  Dig them up from every- 
place.  Let's go.
     In a rather anti-connubial vein the following poem was written by a distressed husband, who cheated 
his wife.  In uniting the praises of matrimony, he arranged the lines so that, to get a his real sentiment 
they must be read alternately, reading the first and third lines, then the second and fourth lines.
"That man must lead a happy life,                            In all the female race appear
Who is directed by a wife;                                        Truth, darling of a heart sincere;
Who's freed from matrimonial claims                      Hypocrisy, deceit and pride
Is sure to suffer for his pains.                                    In women never did reside.

Adam could find no solid peace                                What tongue is able to unfold
Till he beheld a woman's face;                                  The worthy in woman we behold
When Eve was given for a mate                                The failings that in woman dwell
Adam was in a happy state.                                       Are almost imperceptible.

                                              Confusion take the men, I say,
                                              Who no regard to women pay,
                                              Who make the women their delight,
                                              Keep always reason in their sight."
Teacher- Describe the manners and customs of the people of Central Africa.
Pupil-"They ain't got no manners and they don't wear no costumes.
"What is it, asked the teach, "That a canary can do that I can't?"
"Take a bath in a saucer," answered one of the bright children.
Landlady (in hall, talking to a roomer)- "I thought I saw you taking a gentleman up to your apartment 
last night."
Miss Smythe-"Yeah' that's what I though too."
"Do you drink, buddy?"  "Nope."  "Are you sure?"  "Absolutely, I never touch the stuff."  "Then hold 
this bottle while I tie my shoe."
Lumber Dealer-"Can I get a room here?"
Hotel Clerk- "Have you a reservation?"
Lumber Dealer-"Do I look like an Indiana?"
The schoolmaster was angry with the doctor's small son.  "I will certainly have to ask your father to 
come and seem me," he remarked.
"You'd better not," said the boy; "he charges $5 a visit."
Blonde-"I am going on a picnic with a young sailor.  What do you think I should take?"
Show Manager-"Why do you say the show as misrepresented?"
Patron-"Well, you advertised a chorus of seventy, and none of them looked to more than sixty."
Jones met a friend on the street.  "I hear your wife has gone to Florida for her health," said the friend.
"What did she have."  "A thousand dollars her father gave her," answered the husband.
     Well, boys, our little mimeographed scandal sheet finally hit the Jack Pot, and it took the "Wabash 
Reunion in Manila" to turn the trick.  That hit the middle of the front page of the Chicago Tribune last 
Monday morning with a full story of the reunion with this title 'SING PRAISES OF OLD WABASH on 
the BANKS OF THE PASSIG," AND was probably read by a million people.  Then on Tuesday even- 
ing the Indianapolis News carried the same story, and last Sunday the Indianapolis Star carried a feature 
story of the origin, development, contents and results of the Bullaton, and carried pictures of the Kiwan- 
is Club, at work addressing Bullatons, of the B. being mimeographed in Bill Delaplane's office, and 
then one of mamma and me sitting behind the typewriters desk a stack of letters, Kiwanis really had a 
Roman Holiday last week in the newspapers, I have been anxiously awaiting letters from the boys who 
attended the reunion.  Today, I received the first one, from Capt. Wilbur Van Horn.   I gave it to the 
P.D. to print and I hope your folks all clip it and send it to you.  Van says there were pictures taken 
which will reach me anytime now.  I hope so.  Will I give that some spread.  And the folks at home are 
all waiting to see it.  Much credit for the fact that 45 Wabash boys gathered in Manila is due to Capt. 
David Glasco, the husband of Rosalind Mills.  We thank you, Captain.  Van also says that the Red 
Cross gave them a room, and refreshments, (non Alcoholic), and hundreds of boys from all over the 
country wondered why their town couldn't do something like that.  Nice letter, Van, and glad you were 
there.  AND, Van says the boys themselves plan another meeting on Aug. 12th, with a still bigger crowd.  
Now, that is really swell.  Don't forget to get the pictures, boys.  Now, you boys in France and close to 
Paris, see what you can do on Sept. 2nd.  So far, we will meet at the Arch de Triumph at high noon on 
Sunday, Sept. 2nd.  So take this Bullaton to your Co. and begin to make your plans.  When you walk 
down that street and approach twenty to fifty old cronies you haven't seen for years standing around 
hammering each other over the back, I predict you will have a thrill you haven't had since the last time 
you beat Kokomo.  Remember that date, Sept. 2nd, and be there.  Maybe, just maybe, we can arrange a 
broadcast.  Pulling some strings.  Now, some late news.  Yes, the dome of the Court House is being 
painted Aluminum, and it hurts your eyes to look at it.  Reminds me of the dome at Notre Dame that is 
so famous with all the Irish since the days of Knute Rockne.  No new babies lately that I know of.  I'm 
sure there will be some someday, as there are a whole flock of ETO boys home on their way west.  They 
are way ahead of me.  I can't keep tab on them.  They move too fast, but I know Harry Forbes is coming 
in a few days and that is swell.  Alf Plummer is back, and makes so much noise around the house, that 
his old man, Frank, can't sleep.  Wm. Robt. Hahn from near Red Bridge, now discharged after a lifetime 
(?) on Amchitka, in the Aleutians, was in the office yesterday.  Told us about meeting Bob, my oldest 
boy up there.  Saw his name and address in the B. and hunted him up.  Also reports that a Dr. Merlin 
Johnson, of Somerset is a Navy doctor and stationed on Amchitka.  Also reports that Sgt. Lowell Arrick 
is back from the Phil- ippines.  He is a Marine.  Nick Weltick is now on Guam along with Galen Daven- 
port, Ralph Ogan, Jim Guthrie and others.  Isn't it about time for you boys all to get together again?  
Hubert Dubois, my son-in-law writes, that Jim Guthrie recognized his ship the Polana AKA 35, and 
came on board and spent a day with him and later three others, Johnny Lynn, Pat O'Brien and some- 
body else came down and they had a nice time.  This Guthrie boy really knows his way around and will 
find you if you come close to Guam.  Am anxious to hear some more from Okinawa.  And from Bob 
Yarnelle in Calcutta.  The other day, Bob Sunday's Dad came in and says "Bob (Red) wrote home that 
you wanted a silver finger ring from China, and here it is."  Boys, I was certainly pleased.  It is a dandy 
with a dragon carved on it.   I have been showing it to the natives around here, Bob, and they all want 
one.  Bob has sent home a lot of the most beautiful Chinese silver jewelry.  I showed it to Charley, my 
kid, who got in Sunday morning from Denver, Colorado with his wife and my grandson, Rusty.  Char-  
ley looked it over, and then hollered and laughed.  I said, "What's so funny" "Nothing except that I just 
happened to remember how handy Red Sunday was with a pack of cards, and that after a pair of dice 
stopped rolling, if Red snapped his fingers, those dice would jump up and turn over."   And he laughed 
some more.  Now, I don't believe it, myself.  Red always looked and acted like a model young man to 
me, and I do hope he isn't gambling with those old Chinese gentlemen, and taking their jewelry away 
from them.  Oh, well, any way, I have a swell ring from China and I am grateful.  By the way Bill 
Marks, Sam Reynolds and Don Draper left for induction yesterday morning.  As a result I know a little 
blond with initials of R.F. and a brunette, with initials of H.G. whose faces are unusually long.  Don't 
forget to write these girls boys.  And then too, they tell me that Sam has a little favorite too, J. Mc. That 
he is carrying a torch for.  Well, well.  Hate to see you boys leave, but you will be back.  And, say, Fel- 
lows.  Let me get this over to all of you, and you guys from other towns and cities as well.  When you 
are discharged, for Heavens Sake, take advantage of the G.I. Bill, which is a wonderful thing for you.  
When the government will pay your tuition up to $500.00 a year, and pay you $50.00 per month if you 
are single, and $75.00 if you are married, while you go to college, it is just too much to pass up.  Some 
of you may think you are too old to go to college because you are 22 or 25 when you are discharged.  
That is the craziest thing I ever heard of.  Listen, you never get too old to go to college.  Already Char- 
ley has made his arrangements to go back to Commercial Arts School at Chicago, for a while, both day 
and night, and after while just nights, and the government pays the bill.  He will be 28 next Christmas, is 
married, has one youngster, and expects to keep on going to school.  The reason I particularly mention 
this is that I have had so many of the boys tell me that they are now 22 or 23 years old and were to old 
to so to college.  When they get to be forty, they will wish they had, so I am appealing to you fellows 
who are now in service everywhere to study this thing over, and I hope you make up your minds to go 
on to school, married or single.  Next week I will give you some more names and ships.  In the mean- 
time, fellows, keep your eyes open and heads up.  This war will soon be over, and you will be heading 
home to take your places in the community and help make the old town hum.  S'long.  Homer T.
AUGUST 6, 1945
     Bill Delaplane had charge of the K meeting today, and he was on high.  I wasn't sure whether it was 
because he was sitting next to the very attractive lady speaker, Mrs. Edith Crawley, or because he just 
found out that his outstanding son, Joe, would be in Wabash next week, back from Polerno, Solerno and 
Normandy with his LST.  At any rate, old Wild Bill was on a rampage.  He would insult me, by asking 
me to read a letter and then holding his hands over the lady's ears.  If he keeps on, I won't have any 
reputation left at all in Wabash.  But, boys, wasn't that some letter from Col.. Cy Clark from APO 228.  
Did you see old Howard Halderman's ears turn red as I got into the meat of the thing?  No wonder.  
And the Colonel had him figured right.  Using the K Bullaton, to wrap up the "farm mistatement" and 
then probably charge the man for the stamp he used to mail it.  We did all get a bang out of your letter, 
Colonel, and long for another one.  I can imagine that this must be about the kind of letter that old Blo- 
od and Guts Patton would write, and we appreciate your approval of the lousy sheet we turn out each 
week.  "We'll shut off their water and take out their meter" was a new one to this backward city in re- 
ferring to what is going to happen to the Japs.  We book you now for a speech when you get back to 
these parts.  Col. Cy Clark.  (Cy, by the way is quite a famous heart specialist from Indianapolis, whose 
farm Howard H. mismanages, while the doctor is away fighting for freedom.)  Mrs. Crawley gave us a 
fine talk and impressed me very much with her ability to tell the story of the organization that helps the 
crippled children of Indiana.  Those souls that come to us at Easter Time will be much easier to buy the 
next time, now that we know what it is all about.  Another thing.  Our candidate for Queen of the Blos- 
soms, miss Dorothy Small is only 11,000 votes behind.  Let's keep hammering away, and she will soon 
be out in front.  We should be able to clean up the Eagles, the Moose and the Elks, if we try.  Talk to 
mamma about it, and make it strong.  Everybody back next week.
     Stories?  Yes, by the dozen.  Many of them can't be used.  Some are good and some are bad, even as 
you and I.  Sit back and laugh.  The man who can't laugh is half dead already.  Cry and you cry alone, 
don't forget that.
     After giving the private a dressing down for being so late in returning with the supplies, the sergeant 
demanded, "Okay, let's hear how it happened, Miller."  "Well I picked up a chaplain along the road," 
explained the woebegone rookie, "and from then on the mules couldn't understand a word I said."

A general returning to camp one evening couldn't produce his identification.  The rookie on guard duty, 
unimpressed, refused to let him pass through the gates.  Finally, the exasperated general bent forward, 
pointed to the stars on his shoulder, and bellowed:  "Do you know what these mean?"  "Sure," popped 
the rookie, "You got two sons in the service."

A Negro boy, going through a cemetery, read this inscription on a tombstone:  "Not dead but sleeping."
The lad scratched his head a while and remarked to himself:  "He sho' ain't foolin' nobody but hisself."

Diner:  I can't eat this soup.                                                         Sailor:  Who sliced this ham?
Waiter:  I'll call the manager.                                                      Waitress:  the chef did, sir.
Diner: (when manager arrives)  This soup, I can't eat it.            Sailor:  Well he darn near missed it.
Manager:  I regret that, sir.  I'll call the chef.
Diner: (when chef arrives):  I can't eat this soup.
Chef:  What's the matter with it?
Diner:  Nothing.  I have no spoon.

Advertising notice clipped from the old "Wichita (Kansas) Weekly Beacon" of many years ago:  Notice:  
Positively no more baptizing in my pasture.  Twice in the last two months my gate has been left open by 
Christian people, and before I'll chase my heifers all over the country again all the sinners can go to 
     Well, gang, we have lots of news, and lots of letters.  These boys from the ETO are coming back thru 
Wabash so fast right now, that I can't keep up with them.  Every day is a new group of grinning service 
men.  I walked into Scheerer's Grocery the other day and here was old Harry (Red) Forbes, natural as 
life, and taller than ever.  He was up so high, I could hardly distinguish his red head from the electric 
light.  Six feet five and he was bent over.  I don't know how tall he would be if he straightened up.  He 
said as usual, a lot of things, but among them, "Hey, Homer, I thot I married the most beautiful woman 
in the world, but I don't know.  That lady standing out in New York harbor looked awful good to me."  
He married Helen Halderman with my approval.  They have no family yet, which of course doesn't 
meet with my approval.  "Multiply, and replenish the earth," taken from the Good Book is going to be 
one of my slogans after the war is over and you guys all get back.  If we hit 15,000 by 1950, we will 
have to have help.  Then today, who should rush up and slap me on the back but Johnny Faust, just back 
from Guam, I knew he was coming.  And he had his pretty little wife with him.  Been gone two years.  
He looked great.  He left Jim Guthrie, Ralph Ogan, Roy Denton, Bill Baker, Jim McVicker over there 
on Guam and hated to see them stay.  This Faust boy is O.K., and swears by the Bullaton, which brot a 
crowd together on Guam, has memorized all the ships ever mentioned in the B., hunts up the newcomer, 
and tells him where to find the rest of the gang.  You're  doing a swell job, Jimmie, and I'm proud of 
you, and you will be proud of your little Jimmie when you see him.  Cute as a button.  NOW, speaking 
of REUNIONS, REMEMBER, all you guys, that the Wabash boys are meeting again in MANILA on 
August 12, and hey tell me they will have a bigger crowd than ever.  Then, one fellow tells me that they 
intend meeting once a month on the middle Sunday of each month until the War is over.  That gave the 
old Editor another brainstorm.  Why not set a Sunday, for instance the second Sunday of each month as 
the meeting date in the Pacific theatre, and let it be understood, that any sailor who gets into Manila on 
the Second Sunday of the month will find a crowd of fellows at the Red Cross Center at high noon.  
From all the reports I get of that meeting, it will go down in history.  The Detroit News, some woman 
told me today, carried an editorial on the subject and said, "If one little Hoosier city, Wabash, Indiana, 
could stage a Reunion in Manila, why can't Detroit do the same?"  Now, the next thing is the Paris me- 
eting on Sunday, Sept. 2nd, the day before Labor Day.  Sounded far fetched, and impossible, but we still 
have dozens of Wabash boys close to Paris, and you can get a pass, and get into Paris and find your way 
to the Arch de Triumph right qt noon.  And get the pictures.  The Chicago Tribune carried 3 groups of 
the Manila gang last Tursda7y, and they were good.  Waiting now for the other five groups.  Then after 
the Paris meeting, and a time and place is sot for each month, we will move up further into France and 
Germany and have reunions right on into Berlin.  "Wabash in Berlin."  Something, huh?  Meet at the 
City Hall, if there is one left, or where it was.  Yes, we're going to do it.  Now, flashes from here and 
there. Gilbert Wilson, a prisoner in Germany after his Liberator was shot down over enemy territory, 
was in town Sunday and came up to the house to see Charley.  Gilbert looks good, and had with him a 
lovely "Georgia peach," he found down south of Atlanta, a lovely girl.  Gilbert wants to stay on in the 
Air Service, and will soon go down to Miami Beach.  Hope he meets Bill Barker and his wife down 
there.  Nice people.  My kid, Charley, has spent a carefree week here and goes on to Rochester with 
Virginia and Rusty (young Charley), before he goes on to Chicago to the art school.  J.P. Jones got back 
the other day from ETO and will spend 30 days.  Phil Magner, Jr. who has been in Italy and Ger- many 
will go directly from there to the Philippines.  After 17 months in the Pacific, Gordon Rhoads is home 
for a month.  Kenny Alger in a Glider Echelon is now in the Philippines at APO 468, the same APO as 
Doc Slegelmilch, Bruce Shambaugh and Wm. Davenport.  I made a mistake in a recent B. I said Gerald 
Dawes won his commission at Zig Zag Pass.  It was Gerald Bowman.  Sorry, boys.  Today, I received  a 
four page typewritten letter from Lt. Bob Tewksbury, giving me a "blow by blow" description of the 
exploits of the 38th from the time they left this country, thru Hawaii, down to Oro Bay, close to Port 
Moresby, and then Leyte, where no sooner had they landed than 400 Jap paratroopers dropped right 
down among them.  That was their initiation into battle, and then he recounted the exploits in the Zig 
Zag Pass area, and how they liberated or took Bataan and Corregidor.  Splendid letter, and those were 
the boys from our old National Guard unit.  Many of them were wounded, and some of them died, and 
we are indeed proud of that group, Bob.  I gave your letter to the Plain Dealer, and hope that all your 
folks clip it and mail it to you.  Your folks have to cooperate too on these things boys.  Tell them in 
your letter to mail you these letters, and watch for reunion dates.  Bob didn't know about this Manila 
Reunion until a couple days to late.  These letters.  One here from Jim McVicker from Guam.  "Best 
little island in the P.", he says.  Found Bob Simons, and Bob took him around to see the rest of the gang.  
Now hunting Bill Baker, an old crony at home.  I put your kid brother's name on the list today, and we 
will keep tab on young Bob, no matter where he goes.  Your gal back here is O.K., Jim, and I mean 
O.K.  Kiwanis likes her fine.  Say, I must tell you about this.  Sometime back, I suggested to you boys 
in Germany that you go down to the Burgomeiser's  office and pick me up his picture or some stat- 
ionery.  Sure enough, Saturday I received a package from Paul Huddleston from Straubing, Germany, 
containing the embossed stationery of the Mayor or Uberburgomeister of that city.  It is swell, and I 
appreciate it.  I would love to have the pictures of these old boys, especially if they look like Paul says 
this one does.  Come on the rest of you guys.  Get out your Chamber of Commerce card, use a little guts 
and go and get me some pictures.  That's my hobby, pictures.  Here's a letter from W.H. Burkholder 
(Harold) who says he sees Woody Drook once in a while at Warrington, England.  Had his picture taken 
with Margie Stewart while she was there.  Here's Johnny Fitzpatrick's address Cpl. John Fitzpatrick, 
35095239 94th Ord. (MM) Co APO 464 P.M. New York.  John, I have the names of Wm. Frank, Elbert 
Loche, Robt. Miller, Robt. Harrell, Rod Hipskind and Homer Miller at that same APO.  Half of them 
may be on the road home now, but maybe not.  What city are you in?  No secrets now, in the ETO, is 
here?  Tell me your cities and we will have a reunion sure.  Do it right away.  Write me a real letter, 
John.  Kenny Coburn over in Germany just sent Floyd Guynn a beautiful gold handled dagger, that he 
has shown all over town.  Floyd is Kenny's sponsor.  Here is a letter from Dananworth, Germany from 
Donald R. Crumrine APO 360, the same APO as Frank Lecka, Wm. Patton and Jas. Banks.  Nice letter, 
kid.  Let me have another on the attitude of the people in Germany toward us.  Letter from J.C. Fear- 
now, from APO 469, same as Ralph Allman and Ralph comer.  Fearnow says he is among those sel- 
ected to go on into Berlin.  Here is a letter from Lawrence from the P. who missed the Manila party but 
he did meet Gilbert Smith on Panay on Monday the 16th and they had their own reunion.  Sent me a 
snapshot of some of the guys swimming.  I put it up on the wall, but I hung a handkerchief up over the 
lower part of the picture, as I don't think the boys had any clothes on.  Write again, Lawrence, and go 
into details about the Filipino women who smoke the big cigars.  That's good.  Now, must stop.  Sorry.  
Write, and remember the reunions.  The old B. slinger.  Homer T.
AUGUST 14, 1945
     A kid I used to know in college had an old sayings that has stuck with me thru the years.  "Come 
what come, may, Time and the Hour pass thru the roughest day."  And, ain't it the truth.  Time and the 
Hours does pass thru every day be it rough or smooth.  This has been a rough one, but, of course, after 
an hour at noon in Kiwanis listening to the harmony of Nels Hunter, John Lewis, Doc Kintner and 
Howard Halderman, and the usual discordant  and raucious speeches of various members, it puts a 
fellow back on his feet again.  There is a lot of real good comes of good fellowship and horseplay.  
Today, we were especially honored having our candidate for Queen of the Glad festival, Miss Dorothy 
Small, and she made a swell talk.  Surprised me.  Not being blind, I knew she looked good, but being 
naturally dumb, I didn't know she could speak.  Let's keep plugging boys.  We are ahead of Rotary and 
not too far behind the Moose.  Saturday night finishes the contest.  Get every vote in.  Nother thing.  
Attendance.  Don't get careless about that.  Vacation time will soon be over and then we can really get 
on that attendance again.  The Bullaton don't take a vacation.   Getting stronger each week.  Don't fail 
to mail them out.  If you leave town see that someone else mails them or bring your names to me.  Also, 
today Consuelo Taylor, county nurse, made a talk on health.  And she did fine.  A smart woman, doing 
a good job, in tough times.  I think she looks nice too, and – her husband, he's all right too.
I am a girl with many a fault,                                        Young and strong and full of vim,
In many ways, not worth my salt.                                  I surely learnt a lot from him.
I can neither cook or sew,                                              At first I was so very shy.
I'd never make a household go.                                     It seemed a dangerous thing to try.
But in one thing I do excel,                                            Practice soon perfects my art,
As many a man can truly tell.                                        Now I am paid to do my part.   
I was young when I began                                             I feel I have no opposition.
Taught by a most attractive man.                                  No matter if it is rain or shine,
                                               It's still a favorite of mine.
                                              Now ladies, don't be horrified,
                                              No other meaning is implied.
                                              Why should I not indulge my whim-
                                              After all, it's just – to swim.
Women are a funny race,                                            Any girl can be gay in a class coupe,
They curl their hair and paint their face,                    In a taxicab all can be jolly.
They change their style so often that                          But the girl worth while is the girl who can smile               
Last week's hat is not a hat,                                        When you're taking her home on the trolley.
They sleep all a.m. dance all p.m.
Go to games but never see 'em,                                  Deacon John Beamer:  "What was all that swearing
They spend the stuff so very well                               and cussing I heard when I went by your house on
The bills mount up-but what the hell,                         my way to church this morning?"
Man, too, is a funny race,                                            Billy (Ware Wimberly's young son):  "That was
He pays for woman's dizzy pace.                                Dad.  He couldn't find his prayer book."

There once was a maid from Siam                              Mary had a bathing suit
Who said to her lover young Kiam,                            The latest style, no doubt.
If you kiss me, of course,                                            For the farther she got into it,
You'll have to use, force,                                            The more Mary was out.
But of course you're stronger than I am.
A full month's pay, a three day pass,
A quart of vino, a winsome lass,
A hectic night of wild whoopee,
Then a week's KP.
     Boys, the old Editor is a mess.  So many fellows home from Europe for 30 days, stopping me on the 
street, introducing me to their wives and sweethearts, an I jot their names down on letters, even on the 
back of blank checks in my checkbook, and then I can't find them when I get ready to tell you about it.  
I have pictures, snap shots, poetry, stories, names and more names and changes of addresses all so mi- 
xed up, that I am a mess.  However, there are a lot of guys at home and they are enjoying it immensely, 
and I hope they do.  Very few drunks, too.  And that suits me.  Albert Kline is home.  J.P. Jones came 
back from ETO and going strong.  Alf Plummer's time is about up here and he goes on.  Harry Forbes is 
running at large.  Junior (Jess) Parrott is back, and Max Hutchens was in today from the Pacific and lo- 
oking fine.  Expects to go back and help finish the job.  And so on up and down the line.  No casualties 
to report and that is fine.  NOW, get ready for the big WABASH DAY ROUND THE WORLD party 
for Sept. 16th.  No matter where you are, in China, India, in France, Belgium, London, on Panay, or in 
New guinea, get your leave or liberty and hunt up the biggest Red Cross center you can, and there you 
will find WABASH BOYS waiting for you.  Make it NOON on Sept. 16th.  Sounds crazy but it will 
work.  Try it.  THEN, arrange for monthly meetings on the THIRD Sunday of each month thereafter.  
The idea back of a regular date is so that the boys on some 150 ships will know that when they hit Lin- 
guyan gulf or Biak down in the New guinea area, that they can hunt up some old friends at a Red Cross 
Center on that THIRD Sunday of each month, no matter where it is.  Get the idea?  Now, do it.  Don't 
fail me.  This is the biggest thing you ever got mixed up in, and you might as well be in on it. –Now, 
one more thing on reunions.  Yesterday, I had two letters from Doc (Bill) Sholty.  In writing about the 
Party Reunion on Sept. 2nd to be held under the Arch de Triumph at high noon, Doc says, "Why don't 
you ask Capt. E.J. Jeroske, who has charge of all the theatres in Paris and has all kinds of connections 
all over Paris, to meet the boys and take over?"  My answer is swell, and a letter is in the mail right 
now.  "Jerry" Jeroske is the husband of Margy Stewart, and from everything that Bill tells me, he must 
be one grand fellow, and one that would fully meet all my requirements.  Bill attended the wedding, and 
sent me a picture of a group of the wedding party.  I am satisfied now.  If both Margy and Bill Sholty 
think Jerry is tops, that is enough for me.  I didn't really think he had a "grey beard."  I am just jealous 
of all these Wabash kids until I know they married the right guy, that's all.  So. You fellows, within a 
hundred miles of Paris, get busy and make your arrangements to be there.  Get some pictures.  One 
more thing.  Better drop Capt. E.J. Jeroske, M.A.C. Entertainment Office Special Service, Seine Base 
APO 887 P.M. New York, N.Y.and Margy (she's still there) and tell them you will be present.  Wow.  
What a party.  Now, letters.  By the handful.  I have them from everyplace.  What a swell letter from 
Charles Woods who used to live across from me there on East Sinclair.  He's in Indian at APO 884.  
Tells about the kick he got from seeing the little Chamber of Commerce card with the picture on it.  
Yes, practically every letter I get mentions the card and the picture and all my own boys get a bang
From looking at the back end of the big white church in the foreground.  I wish you could see he dome 
of that Court House now, with its two coats of Aluminum.  You can hardly look at it in the sunlight.  
Luck to you, Charley Woods.  Quite an article here on George Bosch over in Kumming, China, who is 
in charge of a supply base section.  Quite an honor.  Keep going George, and keep your eye on Bob 
Sunday and Bill Lutz.  What a job that would be.  Gay Robinson and Ralph Barnhouse are in China too.  
Another booster for the B. is Charles Moon from APO 72.  Leyte, I believe.  Nice letters.  The stories 
used today came from Charley Moon.  Will give you full address of Charles Leonard in a letter.  DO-  
N'T forget Sept. 16th, young fellow.  We have a half dozen boys at 72, and probably a dozen that I don't 
have.  So get together.  Yes, someday, I will reprint "The Old Lady from Dora."  Have had so many 
requests, and one of these days will have another of Bud Mahaney's outbursts.  The big Horse Show, 
and the Glad Show, and a thousand things have had him tied in knots lately.  And he was sick for a 
couple weeks.  Imagine that.  I didn't think you could kill him with an axe.  Now his secretary, Cecil 
Ann Bowman, Marilyn's mother, is laid up but is recovering.  Sure I remember you, H.R. Tucker when 
you used to work at Perry Cross's back in 36.  Yes, Jack is over there someplace too.  Glad your outfit 
enjoys the B. so much.  This town was famous long before the B. got started.  Remember the old W.A. 
A. and then Modoc.  Modoc took Wabash around the world for sure.  Call on the Burgomeister at Augs- 
burg and get me his picture for my Art Gallery.  Got a letter here from Frank Alberson from the USN 
Navy Hospital #19, on Tinian.  Frank was sent up to Okinawa and fell and broke his leg, and was ship- 
ped back to Tinian.  Said that Max Friermood called on him and gave him the news from the states.  
That's swell.  Frank is anxious to get back with his outfit on Ohinawa.  Going to hunt up the Mabee 
twins.  Wish I could get a gang together in the big port there, what do they call it, Atka?  One of these 
days we will.  Keep writing, Frank.  Don Tetrick, I enjoyed your letter very much.  Read it to the club.  
Do your best to get in on one of those reunions.  Say, John Harvey, you are at APO 74.  Hunt up Capt. 
D.R. Glasco in the Hdqtrs. Staff in Manila and meet some of your old friends.  Don't overlook it.  Hey, 
why don't some of you girls write me?  Wacs, Waves, Spars, I want to hear from all of you.  Heard 
from Lt. Mickelthwaite from the USS WABASH today, and the boys got the candy sent out by the Wes- 
leyan Methodist Church and that the crew almost went crazy.  Wait till that crew casts their optics on 
the pictures of the Queen and her attendants that I mailed a couple weeks ago.  Wow.  PFC. Charles 
Simpson, 35907427 Service Company 27erd Inf. APO 417, P.M. New York.  And assistant to the Cha- 
plain in Braach, Germany.  Once more Charley, remember Sept. 16th  in Braach.  Maybe you can get 
some Wabash boys in church.  Bill Guernsey is now working in an ice3 plant in Shamhunage, India.  
Carl, his brother is now at Great Lakes.  Bill is at APO 219.  Here's a letter from Wally Walters with the 
Marines in Hawaii.  Wants a reunion.  Great, Wally, here is the full address of Francis Gene Vandegrift 
(SK) 3/c Box 1395 Navy 128 FPO San Fran.  He has been in Honolulu for a couple of years.  Contact 
him, I want you fellows to all get Together on Sept. 16th.  Why not Pearl Harbor at the Red Cross Cen- 
ter.  There are dozens of Wabash men in Hawaii.  Give Jim Smith my regards, and keep writing.  Here 
is something to think about.  Had a letter from Art Overaa from Gowen Field, Boise, Idaho sometime 
ago.  That was where Bill Price was stationed during part of his training.  Bill got well acquainted with 
the people in the Christian Church in Boise, and made quite an impression.  So Art hunts up the church, 
and tells them of Bill's death over Germany, and those fine people last Sunday gave Willard a memorial 
service in Boise, Idaho.  No one in Wabash knows this yet, not even Bill's folks, but I thot it quite fine 
and appropriate, and certainly thotful of Arthur Overaa.  Art says that Wabash, Indiana really rates in 
that church.  Now, with about forty unanswered letters, I must bring this to a close.  The best of luck, 
gang, everywhere.  Homer T.
     Oh, oh, we find we have some more space.  Yesterday a little blue eyed light haired cutie stopped me 
on the street and handed me this little poem, which she said, shyly expressed her sentiments.  I guess it 
about applies to everybody.  Now were stopping'.
I want to be where you is                                 I used to think the world was great
Instead of where I be.                                      But, now I think it ain't,
Because of where you is not                            For, you has gone where I is not
And, it ain't no place for me                            And left me where you ain't. 
August 21, 1945
     Yes, I'm about nuts, like the rest of you, waiting for the Japs to make up their minds what they are 
going to do.  The darned radio commentators with their line of chatter.  None of them know what they 
are talking about and yet you got to listen to them to find out what they think is going on.  And the peo-
ple around town don't know what to do, and they keep asking me what I know about it.  How would I 
know anything?  All I do know is that all of us, in Kiwanis and Wabash are hoping that by the time this 
thing is read that the War will be over, and some of you boys in service will be heading home.  Alva 
Watson said this suspense was about as bad as when he proposed to Eva (that's his wife) when it took 
him four months to propose and she took four months to give him an answer.  The suspense cost him 
fifty pounds in weight and he says he never got it back.  Anyway, Kiwanis met today with Max Hutch- 
ens and Russell (Max) Brubaker as the special guests, and Lawrence Russell, Milo Meredith, Robert 
Parker and Cy Heemstra as the more unimportant visitors.  They all looked good, even Milo.  Some-  
body awhile back, said, "Say, did Milo Meredith die or something?"  Haven't seen him all summer.  I 
said, "Oh no, I'm sure he hasn't or I would have heard about it" and to myself I thot, "Boy, you couldn't 
kill that hard shell Democrat with an axe," and I'll bet that Burt (six terms) Summerland agrees with 
me.  But, hardshell or no hardshell, we love him still and hope he lives to be a hundred.  Then Miles 
Wilson spoke, the local manager of the leading chain grocery of the city, the A. and P., and he was 
plenty good.  I wonder if the big shots in A and P know that he can make a talk like that.  Maybe I 
should let them know.  Keep coming, gang, and don't fail to mail the B.
     This is another list of man and ships.  Keep this list or memorize it.  You will be running into these 
ships all over the Pacific.
U.S.S. WAYNE RICHARD PAULUS                      U.S.S. P.C. 1214 FRANCIS H. TUCKER
U.S.S. HARDEN M.M. ROGERS                             U.S.S. CONYNGHAM LORIN WILLIAMS
U.S.S. AMADOR ROBERT ROGERS                     V.P.B. 205 RAYMOND G. WISE
     Well, boys, it looks like it's all over except the shouting, and we hope there is plenty of that.  When 
that order to "stop firing" comes thru is the time to start celebrating.  We don't care much what they do 
with Hirohito.  If he is supposed to be a god, or Christ on earth as they tell me the Japs tried to make the 
Filipinos believe, I believe now would be a good time to tie him on behind a jeep with just a pair of sh- 
orts on, and trot him thru the streets of Japan, to prove he is no more God than I am.  Nobody follows 
my advice anyway, so he will probably spend the rest of his days in some mansion someplace with a lot 
of servants waiting on him.  Nuts.  Now, the reason I gave you the above names and ships is that last 
Monday and Tuesday thru letters and phone calls from mamma, I learned of five different cases of whe- 
re those previous lists enabled Wabash boys to get together in the most God forsaken places in the Pac.  
Glee Vroman Jr 888%%%###***Wait a minute.  Wait a minute.  The Radio.  It's over.  Just announced 
from the President's office, that the war is over.  The clock says FIVE SECONDS past SIX O'CLOCK 
ON AUGUST 14, 1945.  Gotta go to the City Hall.  Back later. I'm back and it's four hours later.  The 
town has gone mad.  Dinner bells, cow bells, red fuses, exploding mufflers, horns and more horns.  
Have just seen one smash up so far, and one drunk, a sailor boy from the Peru base, trying to direct traf- 
fic over on the Bank Corner.  War wives, with  the babies in the back seats driving round and round the 
block, yelling, hollering, and some of them crying.  Boys, it's hard to think with all this meelee.  The 
old American LaFrance, with Buss Kuffel at the wheel, went north on Wabash street when the announ- 
cement came, and Gene Kegg took the new truck south across the levee.  It wasn't long until everybody 
in town was down town and they came in from Manchester, Roann and other places.  What a night this 
is in Wabash, and around the world.  If we are happy here, what must it be on Okinawa and Luzon and 
those hundreds of soldiers and sailors who were expecting to make some landings on Japan or China 
within a short time.  All I can say is, boys, Thank God, it is over, and our prayer is that the conduct of 
the nations in the future will be such that your children of your grandchildren will never have to go thru 
a thing like this again.  And we bow our heads in honor to the wounded and those fine fellows who had 
to pay the supreme price.  Now, I'm gonna finish this Bullaton tonight as I might not get another chance 
this week.  Jim Drill in the office for an hour yesterday.  Looking good.  Both the Brady twins were 
home yesterday and very happy.  One of them I can't tell them apart was in Germany.  Jim Gurtner's 
name was printed as having landed in NY the other day.  His wife is waiting for him here.  I just saw 
Marland Holderman on the street a few minutes ago.  Maybe you think those boys on the 30 day fur- 
lough between Germany and Japan aren't happy.  Dr. Rhamy who spent months as surgeon on the 
Bunker Hill is rapidly recovering from his gall stone operation, and is going back into the service again.  
He was in Wabash last Saturday.  Same old Doc too.  Doc Bob LaSalle is now discharged from the 
Army and will be back practicing soon and do we need him.  Another thing about this crowd over on 
the street, is the happy, happy girls.  No boys in town.  They have had a dismal time of it for the last 
three years, and they now see life unfolding for them again.  I saw my own daughter, Dorothy, and my 
daughter-in-law, Bob's wife, from Muncie and Martha Dubois who married Gay Robinson driving 
around together tonight, and do you think they aren't happy?  Bob out on the end of the Aleutians at 
Amchitka, and Hubert on a boat carrying ammunition and 32 of these amphibious landing boats, of 
which he was charge of six of them.  No more beach heads to establish no more marines edging their 
way up over those beaches, nor suicide planes, nor sweating out those missions.  Yes, the girls the wives 
and the mothers are mighty glad this is over, and so are the Dads, don't ever forget that.  Now, let's look 
at the letters.  Wow.  They make me dizzy to look at them.  Here's one to J. Beamer from Lt. Ralph 
Karns, who says he missed the first Wabash Day in Manila, but that he is on the same ship as Merle 
Snyder who used to manage the Boston Store here.  Hope you got in on the second meeting in Manila 
August 12th.  I started to tell you about Junior Vrooman.  He spotted a ship in the harbor some place, I 
believe Mrs. Vrooman said it was the Victoria, and he was on the dock.  By signal someway he cont- 
acted the ship, and asked if John Emrick was on the ship.  They said he was, and sent a boat in after 
Vrooman, and they had a big time.  Clyde Switzer in a letter just received from near Manila, writes that 
he spotted the LCT 1167 that Lt. H.M. Clevenger is on there at Manila, and after a lot of trouble got out 
to the boat.  Major Herbert Miller, of Lagro, called on Bill Lutz near Kumming, China awhile back.  
What a swell letter from Fred Hinkle from APO 627 in China.  No censorship from here on, boys.  I can 
give you full addresses.  Fred, here is Major Geo. F. Bosch 0-336715 Hdqtrs. Base Sec #2 S.O.S. USF 
in China Theatre APO 627 from San Fran.  Please hunt him up.  He knows where Bob Sunday and Bill 
Lutz are too.  I can't get a rise out of Okinawa.  Both of the Mabee twins, Bill and Sam have the same 
address, 504th AAAGn Bn APO 331 San Fran.  Get in touch with the Mabee twins, and some of you 
boys are going to get together.  Jack Campbell is on Okinawa and wants the addresses of some of the 
boys.  If you guys on Okinawa will follow my suggestions of meeting Sept. 16th at the closest Red Cross 
center near you, and then follow it up every third Sunday of the month thereafter, you are going to be 
pleasantly surprised.  Remember that even though the war is now over, they can't bring you all back on 
the first boat, and it may be months before you return, so play ball with me and with each other, and 
make the most of everything.  A lot of you may move on into the occupation of Japan.  If so, then keep 
in close touch with me, and let me know what city you are in as the boys are now doing in France and 
Germany.  Pfc. Jack L. Campbell USMC Marine fighting Sqdrn 441 Fleet P.O. San Francisco, Calif.  
Sgt. Jack Cross 35370522, 692nd Port Co. (Det.) T.C. APO 772 hasn't met anyone from Wabash since 
Dean Swan.  Dean is out in the Pacific now.  Here's a letter from Dick Tewksbury, Sgt. 35091811 H. 
Co. A. U.C. #1, Term 1, APO 756, New York City, now going to school in Schrivenham, England.  
That is mighty fine, Dick.  Just had a fine letter from your brother, Bob, in Manila.  He has done a fine 
job.  Dick says to tell all the gang hello for him.  He won a couple second in the track meet of the 9th Air 
Forces, and now has a chance to hit the G.I. Olympics.  Fine.  You wanted Dick Runnel's address.  O.K. 
he it is.  Pvt. Richard S. Runnells 35091506 Post Hdqtrs, Co. (D.E.M.L.) APO 729 c/o O.M. Seattle, 
Washington.  Write him, Dicks both of you.  Tewky, when you get into London, contact James Fraser, 
Director, Honeywell Brown Ltd.  Wadsworth Road Perivale, Green ford, Middx London, England and 
make yourself known.  Jim is a grand fellow, and is the manager of the Honeywell plant in London.  
These reunions will work out in London fine too after we once get things lined up.  Here's a swell letter 
from Pfc. Wm. C. (Bill) Thompson 35580187 Hdg. Btry 233 AAAF SLT Bn. APO 70, who is now on a 
small island, hotter than H---, but close to Manila.  By all means Bill try and get in on one of the reun- 
ions on the 3rd Sunday of each month in Manila.  I read your letter today to the K club.  Very good.  So 
glad you like the Bull.  So well.  My address is just Wabash, and Homer T. is enough.  Why should I 
print my picture in the B. when I can't get enough pictures from you guys.  I am going to print a picture 
one of these days that will knock your eye out.  Now, I must quit with another two dozen letters unan- 
swered.  Pat Hauk, boys, won the Glad Queen contest with Phyllis Stephan on her heels and our K 
candidate in third place.  Pat will make a beautiful Queen.  Like to see her picture?  You may.  DON'T 
FORGET THOSE REUNIONS.  HOMER T. (The noise is louder than ever.  I can't figure where all 
these people are coming from.)
AUGUST 28, 1945
     A big load has been lifted from the shoulders of the people all over town, and throughout the country 
too.  That cease firing order was what they were all waiting for, and you can see the difference in their 
faces.  Of course they will be more and more anxious to get you all back Home again, but just to know 
that the fighting was over was a tremendous relief.  I hope we will have learned our lesson, and will 
work just as hard at the job of maintaining Peace as we have of winning this War.  Sure, let's maintain 
an Army and a Navy that is adequate to meet all peace time needs, but let's also train men, good men, 
like many of the Chaplains in the service now, train them in good citizenship, and send them back to the 
islands, and these foreign countries, and actually sell good Christian Citizenship.  And at government 
expense too, and pay them well.  Time and time again during this war have we heard those stories of 
natives in the So. Pac. Who helped our boys thru the jungles, and fished them out of the seas, all bec- 
ause some $100 a year missionary landed thee among a bunch of savages and taught them some Chris- 
tianity.  Well, anyway, we're all glad it is over and ahead of all of us lies a mighty tough job of recon- 
version and readjustment.  And Kiwanis will help.  Today we heard the several points from K Interna- 
tional we are to preach, and practice.  And we will.  Today Joe Delaplane, one of those modest boys, 
who hesitates to mention his own part in the war, made us a talk it was good.  He skippered one of those 
flat bottom LCT boats across the Atlantic and got there in time to take part in the landings on Sicily, 
Palerno, then Salerno, and finally in June at Normandy.  His was a rough time, but apparently it didn't 
bother Joe much.  He looked like a million, about six feet two, and broad, black headed and a fine face, 
and I imagine like his pa, Bill, looked thirty years ago.  Bill was plenty proud of his son today, and I 
don't blame him.  Incidentally, boys, a little secret.  Joe will be married Friday in Minneapolis to Ann 
Weld, whom I met one night this winter at Delaplanes.  She is some girl, smart, and an eyeful, (and the 
old Editor knows what he is looking at) blue eyes, brown hair, about 5-4, 120 lbs., plenty of curves, 
with a line of repartee that made me scramble my two or three brains around to keep up.  Her Dad is a 
Captain in the navy living in Washington at present., but originally from Minnesoto.  Makes a nice 
couple, and we all hope they multiply rapidly.  Wow.  Taking too much space, must pass on, but  Ki-
wanians, don't forget to come on Tuesday and keep mailing these Bullatons.
Attractive new neighbor:  Little boy, I need a few things from the corner drug store.  Do you think you 
could go for me?
Little boy:  No, but I heard my dad say he could. 

It isn't the ice that makes people slip-its what they mix with it.

An insurance salesman, determined to sell a policy to a shapely and pretty blonde, approached her in his 
usual breezy and confident manner:  "Don't you think you should be fully covered by insurance, Miss?"
Young blonde (very indignantly):  "What, and hide all this?"

As the late Mr. Jones arrived at the Pearly Gates and greeted St. Peter, he said, "It's a nice job you've 
had here for a good long time."  "Yes," replied St. Peter, "but here we count a million years a minute, 
and a million dollars as a penny."  "Well," said Jones, "I could use some cash.  How about loaning me a 
penny?"  "Certainly," answered St. Peter, "wait just a minute."

Green:  "I've got a bad case of lumbago."
White:  "I don't care how bad it is, I'll be glad to help you drink it.

All marriages are happy.  Its living together afterward that causes the trouble.

Mother:  "Didn't I tell you not to go out with perfect strangers?"
Daughter:  "But, mother, he isn't perfect."

They were at sea-the boat was rocking and rolling something awful.  One sailor got pretty sick.  The 
captain came along and said:  "You can't be sick here, sailor."  The sailor regarded the captain a 
moment and said:  "Watch."

A sergeant is the guy who cusses you out after the Army swears you in.

Judge:  "Madam, is it true that you drove over your husband with a truck loaded with potatoes?"  She:  
"Yes Judge."  Judge:  "Well, what have you to say for yourself?"  She:  "I didn't know it was loaded."

Belle:  Those cakes Mrs. Horsefeathers served at tea were as hard as rocks.
Etta:  I suppose that's why she said, 'take your pick' when she handed them around.

Three contractors were said to have met for an evening of cocktails, dinner, and entertainment, and 
some business discussion.  When they called for their checks it came to something more than $50.
"Let me take it," said the first, "I'm in the 50% excess profits tax bracket.  If I didn't pay the check the 
gov't would get half of it anyway, so it really cost me "25".  "No." said the second, "let me take it.  I'm 
in the 85% bracket, so the dinner will only cost me $7.50."  "Don't be funny!" said the third.  "I've a 
cost-plus contract.  I can charge this to expense and make $5.00 on it."

The GI wandered into the tennis match and sat down.  "Whose game?" he asked.  A shy young thing 
looked up hopefully, "I am."

Lady (to porter):  Have you a ladies' waiting room?
Porter:  No, Ma'am.  But we got two rooms for ladies who can't wait.

A pretty nurse, just returned from service in the South Pacific, was describing an air raid over the base 
where she had been stationed.  "When the Jap bombers came over," she said, "I jumped right into the 
nearest wolfhole."
"Don't you mean a foxhole?" interrupted a listener.  "Maybe a fox dug it," replied the nurse sweetly, 
"but there was a wolf in it when I got there."

First Sailor:  My girl friend has been a chorus girl in New York City for two years.
Second Sailor:  "What shows?"
First Sailor:  Practically everything.
     All right, all right, here we go, loaded for bear.  (Not beer, I said bear) and lots of it.  In Wabash, yes 
last week the big saddle horse show.  Nothing like it ever held here before, with over a hundred entries 
from everywhere, held on the High School football field, and about 3,000 people looking on.  It was a 
good job, with Claude Minear, Parker Spinney, Doc Canfield and Fred Collinge as promoters.  Then 
this weekend, the Gladiolus Show, the finest ever held in the country, with a Coronation of the Queen, 
Miss Pat Hauk, and a 5,000 crowd on the side hill at the City Park, and then Barney Rapp with a red hot 
$500 orchestra, and about 400 couples.  They still didn't fill that pavilion floor.  Decorated like a Xmas 
tree with colored lights, and Glads, and Girls.  Oh, yes, as mayor of this fair city, I led the Queen, Miss 
Pat, from the amphitheatre to the Victory Blossum Ball, and led the Grand March.  You could hear the 
other men around the edges grind their teeth and groan as we traipsed down the floor.  Envy, sure.  I 
thot I made quite a hit with the young lady, and I believe I did, but I noticed that Joe Weaver grabbed 
her away from me awful fast, and I hardly saw her again.  This Glad Show is a big thing for Wabash, 
and will be here again next year with 17 states instead of just Indiana.  A lot of you guys will be back 
and you can help put this thing on really big.  Irene Hoffman, Cecil Mills, Bud Mahaney, Al Sterling 
liked to worked themselves to death, and were assisted by the Garden Club, and the Terpichorean Club, 
and the whole city force.  But it was worth the work.  Wabash is far ahead of other cities in Indiana in 
putting over big things, and such is our reputation.  Let's keep rolling.  Got to have that 15,000 by 1950.  
Now, lets see, Jim Gurtner got home and looks great, and his little blonde headed Georgia wife was so 
tickled she jumped up and down.  Jim is a great guy.  Forest Eckman, in the Army five months is home 
from Texas on furlough.  Looks good, and his wife says he is the handsomest man in town.  Colen 
Fisher, back from five months in the Mediterranean theatre is home on his 30 day leave and can't say 
enough for the Bullaton.  It seems that they all think nothing was mailed from any other city that came 
close to the B. and then when that picture of the city came out followed by the Electric Light publicity, 
that really broke down all resistance.  Letter after letter tells me the same thing, that Wabash has really 
got something on the ball the others don't have, and if half the boys move here and settle after the war, 
that say they are, we should hit 50,000 instead of 15,000 by 1950.  A young lady stopped me on the 
street, and told me that the crew of the USS WABASH is going to hold their first reunion in Wabash 
when the war is over.  They took a vote on it.  That is really an idea, and if they do, will we show that 
122 fellows one red hot time, eh girls?  Then this wk, I rec'd a letter in my mail addressed to Miss Joyce 
Bowlby, per Homer T. Showalter, and I told her I had a letter on my desk addressed to her and she tore 
down to get it.  It was from a young man on a ship who had been reading the B., and he saw her name, 
and wanted to have a good girl in a town like Wabash must be from reading the B.  And I could tell you 
more and more, but not now.  Wendell Reynolds was home, so is Kenneth Bridesgroom, Jack Mehring 
is home again from Camp Chicago, near Reims, France.  Here is a picture in the P.D. of Bob Tewksbury 
and Brig. Gen. William Spence, Comm of the 38th dive Artillery.  Nice letter from Bob recently.  Lately 
Lt. Bruce Brubaker flew from manila to see his brother-in-law, Lt. Kenneth Stout over on Mindora in 
the Phil., Bruce, better hit one of those Manila meetings on the 3rd Sunday of each month.  Bruce's ship 
is an Lcl 1024.  Keep an eye out for it.  Incidentaly, I just learned that Hubert Dubois, on the Polana 
AKA 35 just landed at Leyte.  The boys on Guam watching for his ship really showed the big boy the 
time of his life.  Did I tell you that Jim McVicker and Bill Baker met down there on Guam?  Quite a 
colony.  Today, I had a letter from Lew Kretzmeir from Erding, Germany.  He has acquired an Italian 
car for his work, and runs all over Germany, and France, and has been back to England twice by plane.  
Says he will make that trip to Paris on Sunday, Sept. 2nd if he has to blow all the tires and steal the gas.  
Lew, let  let me know if you do make the trip.  That should be some party.  The boys meet at the Arch 
de Triumph at high noon, and I hope there will be 50 in the crowd.  I want pictures.  The Chicago 
Tribune sent me down 3 pictures taken at Manila.  Incidentally, boys, did any of you see the Overseas 
Edition of the Chicago Tribune of Aug. 11?  It carries a picture of Dorothy Small as the Queen of the 
USS WABASH, and a story of the City of Wabash that adopted a Ship.  Very nice.  Hope you see it.  
Kretzmeiers letter by the way had his picture in it, and Lew, I believe you are more handsome than you 
used to be when working at Sears.  If some of these Wabash gals don't pick you off, they are nuts.  
Come on back.  We'll make room for you at Sears.  Letters here from F.E. Elshire from the Philippines 
who says he came close to Guam getting where he is, but didn't stop, would have liked to have seen 
Gene O'Brien.  Wade Campbell is in Manila.  Elshire is on the USS YR 71.  Watch for that number, 
boys, and give the kid a thrill.  No, Evelyn Parrett isn't on the mailing list for the B.  Not my fault.  We 
only have 1350 out of 3000 from the county and it is too bad.  They have to bring in these addresses.  I 
can't go out and hunt them up.  Here is a letter from Lt. G.C. Hipskind )-86671 309th Air Eng. Sqdrn. 
347th Air Sv. Grp, 20th Air Force APO 86 San Fran.  He is located on Iwo Jima.  Says that the old block 
house shown in Life Magazine on Hill 382, they now use for an air raid shelter.  If there are any other 
Wabash boys on Iwo Jima now, I wish you would hunt Hippy up.  He will be glad to see you.  Here is 
another guy on the Philippines, Harold Shaw, Y3c, 127th Construction Btn.  Personell APO San Fran., 
Calif.  Swell letter.  Very complimentary to the B. Stories and poems are tops with all the service men.  
Funny.  Believe you soldiers have a different viewpoint than the good citizens of Wabash.  Have never 
had one word of criticism from you on the little fur cap and over a 100 letters told me that the poem got 
more laughs from ships, hospitals, barracks, camps, & air bases than any 10 stories or poems they ever 
read. Laughs is what we're after.  My ??? & I must stop!  BUT, I want you all to gather at the Red Cross 
Centers over ??, HIGH NOON, Sunday, Sept. 16; get pictures, mail to: Homer T. 
     "Colonel" Delaplane, as Joe calls him, took charge again today while Ware Wimberly was away.  
And Kiwanis had a good time.  Bill is all right in every way except that he has the "rheumitiz", and it 
about has him down.  Does anyone know a sure cure?   If you do, write it down on a card, and mail it to 
Bill.  My suggestion is a whole lemon, peeling and all, until you get relief, Bill, and then every morning 
take the juice of a lemon in warm water before breakfast.  However5, many of our best men had some 
affliction they suffered with, and still did all right.  But we would rather have you O.K. in all respects.  
Harley Gamble is slowly improving, and so is Bill Lynn.  Walter Bent is taking care of the duties of his 
office again.  Anybody else sick?  Today, Cy Heemstra from Lafayette and later from Bluffton gave us 
an address that had plenty of food for thot in it.  But, after hearing an address like that, what will we do 
about it?  Most me are too tired, too busy, or depend on somebody else to take the action necessary to 
help correct a condition.  We do have plenty of problems in the years just ahead.  Plenty right here in 
Wabash, and I personally solicit all suggestions and assistance.  The attendance was down today.  Va-  
cations will soon be over.  Then you can all get back on the job again.  Keep out record up.  And when 
you have to miss, don't fail to get your Bullatons and mail them out.  Can't let the boys down now, just 
because the War is over.  You have done a swell job.  Next week's issue will be something a little spec- 
ial, not to much, but enough.
     I heard a good story this week that won't stand the town on end.  It seems that one cold evening last 
winter, a man went into a hotel, walked up to the desk and demanded a room.  "Sorry," the clerk said, 
"but every room is taken tonight."  "What," the man said, "Say, I have been to two other hotels and I 
can't find a room, and I got to stay someplace tonight."  The clerk figured and figured, and checked the 
rooms.  His face brightened and he said, "Say, wait a minute.  I do have a room on the third floor, that is 
occupied by a lady.  There is an extra bed in that room, and by putting the screen up between the beds, I 
believe it will be all right.  Let me phone her."  So he called the lady, and after quite a discussion, in 
which he related to the lady the age, the description of the man, etc., the clerk got the woman's consent 
to send the man up.   So up he went, fumbled around the door with the key, and let himself into the 
room.  Quietly, very quietly, he crossed over to the other bed behind the screen and in the dark, undress- 
es and went to bed.  Everything was quiet for a few minutes, and then a soft voice asked, "Would you 
please get me a glass of water?"  He didn't sat anything for a minute, and then asked, "Lady, are you a 
married woman?"  "Yes," she admitted.  "Now, listen," he said, "Your husband don't know I am up 
here in this room with you, does he?"  "No," she said with a ketch in her voice.  "And," he said, "I'm 
darned sure my wife doesn't know I am up here in this room with you tonight either.  Suppose, just for 
this one night that you and I just act like we were man and wife.  What do you say?"  It was quiet for a 
moment and then in a quavering voice, she said, "a-a-a-ll right."  Then he said, "O.K., then, suppose 
you get up and get that glass of water yourself.  (Ha, Ha, got fooled that time didn't you?"
     Lots of things going on around Wabash.  Wabash Street from Maple down to Canal and Market Str- 
eet from Talbert's Garage down to the Elks is getting a new coat of asphalt.  Going to look very good.  
And the best part of it is that it doesn't cost the city a dime directly.  Of course, we know that every time 
we buy a gallon of gasoline, we are paying a tax that should be put back out in the state in the cities and 
towns and highways.  And, I have plenty of figures to show that we are entitled to a much greater share 
of the income tax, the gas and excise tax than we are now getting.  But that is another story.  Things lo- 
ok good for Wabash.  There has been some layoff, to be sure, but those people have been immediately 
absorbed by other industries.  Industrially, I believe Wabash is ahead of any other city in Indiana for the 
post war period.  The thing that we need is housing.  I honestly believe we could use 400 houses if we 
had them.  I believe we will get them in time.  Well, anyway, the boys over on Guam had another good 
reunion.  Jimmie Guthrie tells us that they had, Ralph Ogan, Leolin Holmes, Bob Simons, Jr. King and 
Rich Smith of Somerset, a boy named Morris from Urbana and one Parmelie from North Manchester, 
Jack Ball, Nick Weltick, Lt. Bill Fisher and Johnny Lynn all together in one crowd.  And, Pat O'Brien, 
Wm. Baber, Don Denton and a chap named Newhouse couldn't be there, but the rest of the Wabash 
gang really had a time.  I certainly hope things work out over in Paris.  They should have a whale of a 
crowd, as I know about twenty who had written me that they were going to be there or bust a gut.  I 
hope they get some pictures.  Then, I am expecting all you guys to begin those monthly meetings on the 
16th of September and meet the third Sunday of each month thereafter until you finally leave for home.  
Wade Campbell was in today and he told me of the session they had in Manila on July 15th.  He said 
that was really something.  Never got such a thrill in his life.  He got there by 9 o'clock in the morning 
instead of noon, and they began coming shortly after that.  He found Capt. Glasco in the room fixing 
things up for the meeting.  They finally had 45 of them.  Of course, I am now wondering how many of 
you are in on this invasion of Japan.  That may change the picture somewhat, but let's stick to the 3rd 
Sunday in the month idea, and it will really develop into something, no matter where you are.  Say, here 
is something I want to do.  All you fellows know Cecil Mills.  You have gone with him to Scout Camp, 
on hikes thru the woods.  You have skated on ice ponds that he fixed up for you.  You have been a maj- 
or part of every Wabash boys youth for almost thirty years.  I knew he had all kinds of ability, and is 
altogether the finest, most conscientious, hardworking man I ever knew, but I never did know he was a 
poet.  A couple months ago, he handed me a poem that he had written off in long hand and just said, 
"Here is something I wish you would put in the Bullaton, but don't put my name on it."  Well, I run it 
off on the typewriter, and then I read it over a couple times, and I'll be darned if it isn't one of the best 
things I ever read.  This time I am passing it along to you, and if you like it, instead of writing me, just 
write Cecil and tell him about it.  Will you?  He has done the finest job in his line in America, and has 
done it for you.  There will never be another Cecil Mills in Wabash.  Bill Roggee just phoned the folks 
that he is back in the States.  I just learned that Jack Hall is with the Avn. Engrs. On Ryukyu Islands off 
the shore of Japan.  Wilfred Oldfather from No. Manchester just dropped in for a few minutes back 
from Germany.  Charles Hettsmansperger phoned his wife from the east coast that he is back.  That is 
fine.  And say, you Roann guys, what d'yu think?  Paul "Freck" Meyer gets back from Germany, and 
hunted up the gal he was engaged to, Phyllis Carpenter, of Lagro High in '44 and they were married 
Sunday at the Silver Creek Church north of Lagro.  A nice pair of kids, and we all wish them luck.  
Listen you guys, I'm always worrying about you.  Don't fool around in these other countries, and get all 
messed up.  We have plenty of nice girls back here in the States.  Man alive, there are a lot of babies 
around her now, which is O.K. by me.  That means a bigger population and a better Kiwanis Club after 
while.  Hey, today Bud Mahaney received a letter from the Hammond, Indiana YMCA, saying that they 
had found a wallet in the lounge, and the only identification in it, was an Honorary Membership Card of 
the Wabash Chamber of Commerce with the name of Omer E. Phillabaum in it.  I have his address, and 
once again the old Bullaton finds the man's pocketbook, and returns it to him.  My mailing list shows 
him to be in Calif.  But he lost this pocketbook in Hammond, Indiana.  Jean Graves had to be taken 
from a ship in Hawaii for a Kidney operation.  Big Navy Hospital.  Jack Butterbaugh, can't you look 
him up?  Try it.  Ensign Rogers from Somerset was in the office here the other day.  Going back to 
Alaska.  Been in 3 ½ years.  Long time.  Likes the Bullaton fine.  Very glad, Ensign Rogers.  Now, 
fellows, I got to tell you something that knocked me out complete, as it did the rest of thown who knew 
him.  After everything else that Johnny Fitzpatrick went thru as an assistant to a Chaplain over in the 
Italian Campaign, he was killed in a collision with a truck while taking one of those trips nearer to an 
embarkation port.  It is terrible.  Johnny was decorated for bravery last year a couple times.  Upon one 
occasion, while the stretcher bearers were bringing in the wounded, a sergeant was killed and Johnny 
took over and brought them in.  A wonderful fellow and a terrific loss.  I had a letter from him not very 
long ago.  He is one more of those I know you won't forget.  And I won't either.  Now, gang, that's all 
for tonight.  Keep plugging and don't forget to write.  Homer T. 
All Hail to Wabash County                                    But the iron hand of injustice
   And to her noble Sons                                             Will be bound by steel spun cords
Who have girded on their knapsacks                     Wrong will be forced to the scaffold
   Their parachutes and guns                                       With the Japanese war lords
And have gone to fight for freedom                       Then again at the birth of freedom
   That grand and glorious cause.                                 Old Glory proudly unfurled
To champion democracy                                         Will wave o'er our boys in their triumph
   And firmly fix its laws.                                             With the heroes of the world.
They have left their homes and firesides                 With deafening cheers we'll greet them
   And loved ones far behind                                         Our boys of the olden days
And boldly joined the ranks of war                          Our men who have borne their hardships
   To liberate mankind                                                    And won the whole world's praise
When honor loudly called on them                          Our hearts will swell and vibrate
    To battle for the right                                                  With a joy we can't restrain
Fully manfully they said farewell                             As we lead them to the home fires
   And answered in their might.                                       When they march back again.
They are pledged to help our Allies                          But Oh!  There'll be many a soldier
   And have raised our flag on high                                  So loyal true and brave
With "onward" for their motto                                  In the pride and strength of manhood
   "We'll conquer or we'll die"                                        Will find a soldier's grave
They will brave the roar of cannon                            And the spot where he falls may be hidden
   They will struggle hour by hour                                    The place unmarked by a stone
In the jaws of death unflinching                                But he'll give his life for others
   To crush oppressions power.                                         And God will keep His own.
For patriot fire is kindled                                           To those who will be left sleeping
   Again in the land of the brave                                       Beneath the shell torn sod
And our nation conceived in freedom                        Who die for the love of country
   Has stretched her arm to save                                        Liberty, justice and God
For never was cause more worthy                              May an unbroken peace guard their slumbers
   And never was need so great                                          And memory her vigil prepare
And never were skies more stormy                            To lovingly draw our devotion
   For liberty's ship of state.                                               To our boys who'll be left "Over there.'
SEPTEMBER 25, 1945
     Wow.  Talk about absentees from Kiwanis today.  Here they are.  Addington, Carpenter, Lavelle, 
Lewis, Sr. and Lewis Jr., Minnear, Peterson, Jim Rhoades, Stevens, Tetrick, Hershberger, Breedlove, 
and Lutz.  That is terrible and won't do.  Everybody get back next week.  You missed a good talk by 
Bill Visser, and a lot of fun.  I am amazed at Ware Wimberly.  Very impolite to not permit me to talk.  
He means all right, but don't know any better.  So many things happened in the state meeting yesterday 
that you should know about, and you don't.    That crack he took at me for not mentioning him in con- 
nection with Joe and Peggy Yarnelle's wedding was uncalled for.  He probably got paid well for the 
wedding and it was over in an hour, while I spent several years working on Joe Yarnelle before I turned 
him over to Wimberly, and I carried Peggy Kratzer around when she wore diapers, and never did get 
paid for it.  But, regardless of his short comings Ware is a great guy and we all love him.  Well, anyway, 
we have three on the sick list yet.  Harley G. is getting better, Bill Lynn is on the mend, and I don't 
know about Bill Delaplane.  He's pretty tough and one of these days will appear again good as new.  
Oh, yes, I am deeply indebted to Lt. Richard Ford for his remarks on the morality of the Bullaton.  He 
wants a new sponsor as the one he had inked out the best part of that famous little German poem, and he 
don't want any sponsor censoring his Bullaton.  He wants to do that himself.  Well, nobody needs to 
worry about the future morals of the sheet, as we will keep it clean.
Here is a postal I received from Bob Smith, hay fevering up in Curtis. Michigan.  It goes like this:--
When your heels hit hard and your head feels queer,
And your thots foam up
Like the froth on beer,
When your legs are weak
And your voice is strong
And you laugh like hell
At some damn fool song
Your drunk,
   By Gosh

Johnny (age 5)  "Daddy, the little girl across the street and I are going to get married."
Daddy6:  "That's quite a step to take.  What are you going to use for money?"
Johnny:  "Her has a playhouse.  We are going to live in that."
Dad:  "Well that takes care of the housing.  But what about children.  Have you thought about that?"
Johnny:  "Yes, her and I have talked it over.  If she lays any eggs we're going to step on them."

Man is not a creature of circumstances, but a creator of circumstance.  He MAKES his own 
circumstance, his own opportunities. 

Man being queried at draft board:  "Married?"  Draftee:  "Yes, sir."  Draft Clerk:  "Any dependents?"  
Draftee:  "No sir."  Clerk:  "Well, you have a wife."  Draftee"  "Yeah, but she ain't dependable."

"Now, son," said the father, "Tell me what I punished you for."  "That's fine," blubbered the kid, "First 
you pound hell out of me and now you ask me why you did it."

In Stratford, it is said, during one of the Shakespeare jubilees, an American tourist approached an aged 
villager in a smock, and said:  "Who is this chap Shakespeare, anyway?"  "He were a writer, sir,"  "Oh, 
but there are lots of writers.  Why do you make such an infernal fuss over his one?  Wherever I turn I 
see Shakespeare hotels, Shakespeare cakes, Shakespeare chocolates, Shakespeare shoes.  What the 
deuce did he write- magazine articles, attacks on the government, shady novels?"  "No, sir; oh, no, sir." 
Said the aged villager.  "I understand he writ for the Bible, sir."

Patient (in waiting room of doctors office):  "How do you do?"
Second patient:  "Oh, so-so.  I'm aching from neutitis."
First patient:  "Glad to meet you.  I'm Mendelbaum from Chicago."

G.I. in letter to his wife:  "Dearest, send me twenty-five dollars for some toothpaste and stuff."
Wifey wrote back:  "Here is twenty-five cents for toothpaste-wait until you get home for the 'stuff'."

Lady to Floor Walker:  Do you have a ladies' waiting room here?"
Floor Walker:  "No. madam.  But we do have a room for ladies who can't wait."

"Boy, is that gal ugly.  She must be a professional blind date."

My mother and father are first cousins.  That's why I look so much alike.
     Hi, gang.  How's tricks?  Now that the war is over, of course, you are happy, but for many of you, 
these next few months will seem like an age.  Waiting to get home, sweating it out, but remember that 
you are young and impatient, and the time will pass.  Every day now, new faces appear on the streets of 
Wabash, boys who left two, three and some four years ago.  And they tell me that after seeing the rest of 
the world, Wabash is really the Garden spot of the World.  And you should see them come into my off- 
ice.  Five vets in here Saturday and three more today.  I don't get to see all of them as I can't stay here 
in the office all the time.  But I appreciate their coming in to tell me how much they enjoyed the B., and 
that is my compensation for all my effort.  I want you to remember that the Kiwanis Club did and are 
still doing their part, and that the American Legion has been very generous in helping us out the last  
couple years in financing the sheet.  We want  you to feel free to eat with us on Tuesday noon at the 
Indiana Hotel, at least, once.  On the street today, I met Max Derck, who for 38 months sweat out his 
ground force service with the Jolly Rogers bombing group in New Guinea, and up on the Philippines.  
Max was at Port Moresby back in June of '43 when Charley went down there, and stayed with the outfit 
until a month ago.  He helped make history, and looks good.  Then Saturday in walked Don Armstrong, 
of Linlawn, who will be discharged soon.  He was with the 194th Air Borne Division that landed 6 ½ 
miles behind the Rhine and fought for a day and a half before the infantry caught up with them.  He had 
a rough siege of it personally, but is all patched up and looks swell.  A fine personality and apparently 
as hardy again as a mule.  Bob Clark, too, wounded in Germany, was in but I didn't see him.  He's 
discharged and I'm glad.  And the day before that, LaMoine Burkholder yelled at me from down the 
street.  Another Air Borne trooper who also landed beyond the Rhine in the 193rd Airborne outfit.  He 
was only a few hundred yards from Don Armstrong but didn't know it.  Gene Pilgrim from Somerset is 
back, and I hope he tells Howard Halderman, (who was his sponsor), all the nice things he told me 
about what the boys all thot of the B.  He looks swell, too.  Was in Belgium and Germany, too.  And, 
Sam Schlemmer will be in Wabash in a few days.  What a rough road he traveled, and if he takes five 
years to rest up, it won't be too long.  Started in at Casa Blanca, then Tunisia, Sicily, Corsica, Italy, 
France and Germany and now he is almost home again.  Was expecting Jerry Jontry in town this week, 
back from the shores of Japan, but haven't seen him yet.  A great guy.  Dr. Arthur Rhamy was back in 
town again today.  So was young William Schlemmer and he is discharged.  Bob Pulley drove home 
with Jim Daywalt over the week-end from Florida.  Jim , by the way, is to be discharged.  Say, and on 
July 4th, he was married to a little black-eyed Florida girl, so bob tells me.  Jim Gurtner is strutting 
around town, very proud of the fact he is back in one piece and very proud of the Georgia peach that he 
married before he went across.  I don't blame him.  My eyes aren't  so good any more, and I'm not so 
young as I uster be, but, I'm not entirely blind, and I'll say he picked himself a dandy in this gal.  Oh, 
oh, here's something.  Jim Reynolds of '43 WHS who married Vic Emrick's daughter, Marjorie Jean, is 
now a proud papa.  Of course, Jim don't know it yet as he is over in the vicinity of the New Hebrides, 
but he will find it out in time.  Named the boy Randall Lee.  Weighed 7 pounds and 9 ¾ ounces, and is 
Grandpa and Grandma Chet Reynolds proud?  Wait till they get four like I have.  Got my order in for 
eight more.  Here's one too for the books.  My old friend of former days, Curly Campbell had 8 sons 
and about as many daughters, maybe I should say that Mrs. Campbell had the children and Mr. Camp- 
bell had the fun, but anyhow, six of these boys, Wade, Bob, Paul, Richard, Jack and Billy are all in the 
service.  I say hats off to the Campbell family, and to that old timer, whom we all knew as Curly, who 
has now passed on to a still fairer and better land.  A lady just called up by the name of Coulter and said 
that her grandson had selected Dorothy Small as their pin up girl and had named the ship the Wabash.  
Now, who the devil can be on that B-29?  Which reminds me that we just have word that the tanker, the 
USS WABASH is operating out of Okinawa, and will be for the next 5 months.  Now, listen you guys 
on Okinawa.  Write a letter right not to Ensign R.R. Cleland, Jr. USS WABASH (AOG4) and ask them 
to meet with you at the big Red Cross center on Oct. 21st the 3rd Sunday of October.  Now do it.  I'm 
only hoping that a lot of you birds met all over world last Sunday, Sept. 16th.  Once we get that thing 
rolling for the third Sunday of each month everywhere, we will have something that you will never for- 
get.  Yesterday, Ann Cowen Hoeffer phoned me that she had just received some negatives from Fred, 
who met with the nine fellows at the Arch de Triumph in Paris on Sept. 2nd.  I now have them at the 
studio for prints, and they will be printed in the Plain Dealer.  Today, I had a letter from Bill Sholty 
telling about the success of the meeting.  He says they ate at the Hotel Louvois, and that the boys came 
from as far as Marseilles, France, and Salsburg, Austria.  Bill is at the 104th Evac. Hospital at BadWei- 
ssen on Weisell in southern Bavaria and wants to see any and all from Wabash if they get close to him.  
He says too that a lot of pictures were taken and I will be getting them soon.  That is swell, Bill, and I'm 
still hoping that you locate in Wabash when the war is over.  Say, boys, I must tell you how our football 
team ate up the Elwood football squad last Friday night.  Wow.  Sammy Butterbaugh went completely 
crazy and made gain after gain of five to ten yards.  Then this boy, Martin, you know him, Lawrences 
boy, (yes, and of course, he's in my Sunday School class too) ran thru the whole Elwood team for the 
first two touchdowns.  Tillotson and Parks weren't far behind, and young Seanty Ferguson, who went in 
at quarter back, has a real head for football, and towed that pigskin in all directions.  They all showed up 
good with a score of 33 – 12, and could have been 63.  As I stood on those same bleachers, my memory 
went back 9 years to the days of Logan, the Yarnelles, Rich McClintock, Billy Milliner, my kid Char- 
ley, and Lutz, and Sam Schlemmer, Kuldau and the rest of that superlative squad and I could once again 
see that group passing, running, blocking, the most marvelous exhibition of football I ever saw, laterals, 
short passes, long passes, the old Statue of Liberty play, and the Lord himself only knows what else.  
Max Stevens, who died in a P-24 over Formosa played that night, and so did John Milliner.  It was a 
wonderful aggregation, and these kids the other night were playing that same brand of inspired football 
that wins these games.  And, fellows, I firmly believe that our Athletic program in America, and that 
competitive spirit we develop, and the good sportsmanship we learned, really put this war on ice.  Now, 
fellows, I got to close in a minute. Paper is scarce and I am running out for tonight, but, this is my wish, 
that you all do your best to put your city of Wabash on the map wherever you are.  And do it in the right 
way.  The real leaders of tomorrow are coming from fellows on my mailing list.  Think big, and act big.  
You are whatever you think you are.  You are the missionaries not only of the Christian religion, but of 
the American way of life as well, and let it be said after while, when they speak of you, "Yea, I knew 
that fellow.  He was from Wabash, Indiana, and a great guy."  G'night and good luck.  Homer T. 
OCTOBER 2, 1945
     What weather.  Reminds me of the days I spent in New Guinea.  Rain and more rain, and me with 15 
bushels of potatoes to be dug, more or less.  The vines were four feet high, and I notice that the rows are 
now ridged up like sweet potatoes, so I figure there must be plenty of potatoes in the ground.  Nice 
crowd today. Only a few absent.  You sang good too.  Had quite a time.  Looked like a ministerial me- 
eting with all the preachers present.  Speaking in behalf of the War Fund Drive was Gather Hoffman of 
the First Catholic Church.  Put the old bug on the Keewanians to thaw out once more for the USO, aid 
to refugees, and war prisoners, and it was O.K. Father Hoffman is qu9ite a fellow and certainly has 
made a good citizen for Wabash.  Too bad he isn't hooked up with the Christian Church.  He might 
have got someplace in a big way.  And Wimberly, too is in that class.  Ware us the proselyter deluxe.  
He is working on boys I took away from the Presbyterians Church years ago, and it ain't right.  They are 
well satisfied.  Then the other young aggressive Evan. Preacher, Rev. Weber, gets up and slanders our 
club and asks us to contrib. Some more to Community Service.  "Young men see visions" he quoted for 
Leviticus, to which our Ware remarks that "Old men have dreams" taken from Deuteronomy.  They 
may be correct in their quotations, but they got the old and young men reversed.  Boy Scouts came in 
for a lot more remarks by Bill Visser, our own ever virile Kiwanian, and he put the Rotarians to shame.  
He didn't say anything but what oratory.  Personally, I agree with Alva Watson.  I would like to hear 
about the atomic bomb, before Russia finds out what's in it, and we won't have a chance to hear about 
There was a young lady named Carol          "My friend, you look depressed.  What is the trouble?"
Who loved to play stud for apparel              "My future."  "What makes it look so hopeless?"  "My
Her opponent's straight flush                       past."
Brought a maidenly blush
And a quick journey home in a barrel.         "A bride wears white," said the speaker, "as a symbol of
                                                                      happiness, for her wedding day is the most joyful day in
Cpl.  "I think we ought to teach that            her life."  "And why do men wear black?" someone asked.
dizzy blonde the difference between
right and wrong."  Sgt.  "Good idea.            Two tramps were hailed into police court on charges of 
you teach her what's right."                          vagrancy.  When they were brought before the judge the
                                                                       conversation went like this:  Judge: Where do you live?"
Policeman: "I've had my eye on you            Tramp No. 1: "nowhere yer honor."  Judge:  "And where
For some time Miss."  Lois Boothe:              do you live?"  Tramp No. 2 "I've got the room above him."
:Fancy that.  And I thought you were
arresting me for speeding."                            A Chinese, walking through the woods, turned around to
                                                                       see a grizzly bear following, smelling of his tracks.  "H'm,"
Doctor: "Have you kept a chart of your         said the Chinese, "you likee my tracks.  Velly good, I
Patient's progress?"  Nurse: "No, but            makee some more."
I can show you my diary."
                                                                        Sambo-"We'll, Joyhn. Hit seems like dis war is jest about             
Wife:  "John, I had a heart to heart to             over."  John-"How come you say dat?"  Sambo-"Cause de
Heart talk with our daughter today about       white folks is done started talking back to us."
The problems of life."  Husband: "Good.
And did she tell you anything we should        Bus Driver:  "We are now passing the biggest brewery in
Know?"                                                           Los Angeles."  Returned soldier (hopping off the bus):
                                                                         "We are not."
The manufacturer was explaining the part
His concern had played in the war effort.       Bride:  "Darling, what's troubling you?  You look so
"See that big tank over there?" he asked,        depressed.  Remember that now your worries are our
pointing to a monster with terrific fire            worries."  Groom: "oh very well.  I've just had a letter
power.  "Well, we make the clips that             from a girl in New York, and she's suing us for breach of
hold the blueprints together."                          promise."

The one-ring circus was visiting a town In the hills.  The folks there recognized all the instruments of 
the band except the slide trombone.   One old settler watched the player for quite some time, then, 
turning to his son, said:  "Don't let on that you're watching him.  There's a trick to it; he ain't really 
swallerin' it."

Rastus (throwing down four aces): "Dar, Guess I wins dis ole pot, all right."
Sambo (angrily):  "You play dis game honest, big boy, play it honest!  I knows what cards I dealt you!"

"Doan ferget, blackboy, dat you married me fer better or wusser."  "Dat's all right, brown baby, but how 
come you-all keeps getting wusser 'n wusser?"

"I shall now illustrate what I have in mind," said the professor as he erased the blackboard.

Yvonne says she doesn't care about one's English as long as one's Scotch is good.

Sandy was a leader in the church, but the increasing redness of his nose gave rise to suspicion among 
the congregation.  The elders waited upon him one day to inquire into the matter.  After a question or 
two, Sandy glared:  "It is glowing with pride at never putting itself in anybody else's business."

     Well, gang, sending out the B. now is about like sending out the Plain Dealer to a fellow living in 
Disko, only to find that he has moved to Somerset, and by the time the mail man drives over there, he 
has moved on to Lagro.  Boys in Germany are back in France.  Many of those in France are back in the 
states.  Those in New Guinea awhile back are now in Manila, and those in Leyte are now in Japan.  It is 
one sweet mess, but we know that as first class mail, it will catch up with you someplace.  The other day 
a fellow brought in a B. and told me he was home, and had just read the sheet, which had been to Ger- 
many and back, and he was wondering what the two last verses were in this "poem," which had been 
crossed out.  Lots of boys are happy these days here in Wabash.  Young Roggee and Culver, back from 
Germany, and inseparable these days, are having the times of their lives. Farrar Aubertine is back home.  
Haven't seen him yet, but I know he has some stories to tell.  Young Earl Ravenscroft was at Kiwanis 
today with Cecil Gamble, after Salerno and Italy campaigns.  Cpl. Robert Crawford of Somerset, John 
Ebbinghouse, Wabash, Harold Starbuck, Schuyler Hudson, Charles Brannon, Leroy Bradley, Everett 
James Havens, Don Armstrong, Henry J. Smith, Kenneth Reams, George Freeman, Max Derck, Isaac 
Kendall and Charles Keppler have all been discharged and their records filed at the Court House. It 
won't be long for the rest of you guys, so don't get discouraged.  Everything will be here when you get 
back.  Harold Showalter is back in town, and Charles Woods is on the road home.  News?  Yes, you 
football fans should have seen Wabash pull that Huntington game out of the fire.  The first half it was 
all Huntington.  Didn't look good to me.  Huntington was big and they were tackling like fools.  They 
sifted thru and caught our "pony backs" in their tracks.  Then Huntington threw a long pass and got a 
touchdown.  During the half, Johnny Tatum must have done some tall talking to the boys, as the second 
half was different.  Sammy Butterbaugh went wild, as did Tillotson, and Martin and Parks made Hunt- 
ington look awfully bad.  Finally, our boys started a march down the field that would not be debied, and 
Parks made the touchdown and then converted for the extra point.  We won 7-6, and everybody was 
happy.  The boys put Tatum under the shower with his new suit on, which was a dirty trick, as the clo- 
thes you get now won't stand water, and by the time he got back to Wabash, and walked up past the 
police station, Zenno Mallott thot it was a little boy coming up the hill, his clothes had shrunk so much.  
Next week, it's Warsaw.  Say, must tell you that Sam Schlemmer is home O.K.  Outside of losing some 
hair, he is intact and looks good.  He hasn't lost his appetite, his father says.  And Harold Wolf of Beit- 
man and Wolf is also home and I just learned he is soon to marry a young lady from Noo York City, a 
Miss Raye Kaplan.  That is fast work, Harold, as you haven't been back in the country more than two 
weeks.  By grapevine, I just learned that Edson Finkenbiner is "that way" with a lovely young lady from 
France.  That reminds me that the pictures of the Paris reunion were fine.  Having cuts made now to 
print in the P.D.  Am anxious to know now who met who in the Red Cross centers of the world on Sept. 
16th.  I just heard that there were three boys in Pearl Harbor who met, and I just learned that Hube 
Dubois, my-son-in-law, just returned from Yokohama, loaded up again on the Polana AKA 35, and 
headed for Hokaido, probably unloading at the Mureran Naval Base.  While near Leyte on the Phil. On 
Sept. 16th Hube went to find the Red Cross center at Tacloban, but, they had moved it six miles inland 
to a camp.  Didn't have time to go further.  Better luck next time.  NOW, the 3rd Sunday of October is 
on the 21st.  Let's try it again at High Noon.  You fellows on Okinawa.  Meet at the Red Cross Center at 
NAHA.  Several of you on ships and on land are wanting to know where and when you meet on Okin- 
awa.  This is it.  They have done it every place else, now it is your turn.  You may be visited by some of 
the crew of the USS WABASH, which will be there they tell me, for the next five months.  And, we 
must have a meeting in Tokyo, and we must have pictures.  Get that date.  Noon on October 21st.  If we 
can really get these monthly meetings rolling regularily on the 3rd Sunday everywhere, I will be satisfied 
Say, here is a Wabash man in Hospital 19 on Tinian Island.  That is JimBallard.  You boys on Tinian, 
give Jim a call, will you?  Nice bunch of letters here on my desk.  One from Kenneth Idle EM 3/c USS 
LCI (L) 1008 FPO San Francisco, Cal.  Remember him?  He played on Huntington High same time as 
Charley, Red Sunday, Bill Lutz, and knew them quite well.  He married Helen Cole while he was wor- 
king here at Minn Honeywells.  Married a good girl and from this letter, I would guess that Kenny is 
one swell fellow.  Keep you eyes peeled for that 1008 LCI, boys.  Wabash boys in the Navy are meeting 
each other everyday by watching the names of ships and men printed in the Bullaton.  Letter here from 
Dick Campbell up at Camp McCoy, Wisconsin.  Says he cut out my picture, pasted it on the wall, and 
every time he looks at it, he has to laugh.  What does he mean by that?  Well, that is what we are after is 
laughs and plenty of them.  Now here is a letter from Roger Ervin from Fort Rosenscrans from San Die- 
go, Cal.   He is a buddy of John Wolf of Urbana and has read his B. for two years.  Says he is from Sea- 
ttle, Washington, expects to finish in two years from the Univ. of Washington, after which he says it is, 
"Wabash, here I come" and he says that after seeing the picture of the Glad Queens, he thinks the Kiwa- 
nians know how to pick them, and hopes when he gets here that Dorothy Small is still around.  We are 
glad to hear from any of you boys from other cities who have been reading the Bullaton.  Write us again 
Roger.  Here is the full story of the operations of the 38th Div. From Dec 1943 when they left Camp 
Livingstone, La. Boarded the ship "Harold Lyikes" at New Orleans, thru the Canal to Hawaii, then to 
New Guinea, and on to Leyte, and Luzon where they took part in the liberation of Corrigedor, Bataan 
and took part in the Battles of Zig Zag Pass and numerous others.  1st Sgt. Bill Leach has been very fine 
to send me papers from time to time, and we all hope Bill that the 38th will be heading home maybe 
before you get this Bullaton.  You have all done a swell job.  Here is a letter from Verg Ballard from the 
Philippines.  Says the other day he picked up a copy of the Chicago Overseas Tribune, and there on the 
second page was a swell picture of Dorothy Small and a story of the USS WABASH.  He says with that 
paper, his membership card to the Chamber of Commerce, and the Ford folder on the Electric Light, 
that he really made those yokels who had never been out of the State of New York crawl in their holes.  
Virg hopes to eat his Thanksgiving dinner at home.  So do we all.  Now, I gotta close, but I want you to 
write, especially when you meet other Wabash boys.  For this week, gang, goodnight.  Homer T.

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