Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 3 May 1943 — Page 9

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MONDAY, MAY 3, 1943

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SECOND SECTION

NORTHERN TUNISIA (By Cable). —Another friend » whom I've mentioned before in these columns is now among the missing. He, too, we know almost definitely is a prisoner, He is Capt. Tony Lumpkin of Mexico, Mo. Tony was headquarters commandant of a certain outfit—a headquarters commandant being a sort of militarized hotel manager. Tony ' Lumpkin needn't have been captured at all if he had been content to stick te his comparatively safe “hotel managing.” But he wanted to get a crack at the Jerries himself. He is an expert gunner, and he finally talked the commander into Iletting him take five men and a small gun on wheels and go out to see what he could pick off. The first day they got one German truck plus something that turned out later to be a camel. The second day they moved farther into the mountains, but bagged nothing that day. On the third day they went even farther into the hills, hunting a perfect spot for firing. Capt. Lumpkin used to share a tent with Maj. Chuck Miller of Detroit and with their assistant, Cpl. Jd william Nikolin of Indianapolis, both of whom I've fritten about before. They formed an intimate little amily.

Trio Formed Perfect

THAT THIRL was astonished.

Team He

see

late to morn-

Miller came in bit concerned, woke up next

night Maj and a little When he re there was still no Tony He knew something had He went to the general and got permission out with a squad of his own military police and hunt for his lost companion. Thev covered all the ground Tony had covered, and finally, by studying the terrain and talking with others who had been near by, and interviewing German

happened to start

By Ernie Pyle

prisoners, they pieced together what had happened. The hill that Capt. Lumpkin had been trying to get to had simply been lousy with German machinegunners. The Germans saw him all the time. They sent out a party that worked behind and surrounded him. A German who was captured later said that a captain with a Tommy gun killed one German and wounded another before being taken. That is all we will know until Tony comes back to us. There isn't grief in the little Lumpkin-Miller-Nikolin family, but there is a terrible vacancy. “We were a perfect team,” Ma} Miller says. “Tony was slow and easy-going, and I'm big and lose my temper too quickly. We balanced eachother. I'd] keep him up and he'd calm me dow n. We sure miss him, don't we, Nicky?”

An Indianapolis Intellectual

THE TWO who remain, the officer and the corporal, seem drawn even closer together than before. When there are guests Nicky is called in to be part of the company. Nicky waits on the 6-foot-4 major as though he were a baby, and the major treats Nickey with an endearing roughness, Maj. Miller went on: “Nicky always woke us up every morning by bringing in hot tea. Then the damned intellectual would | ruin the day for me by sitting down while we drank | the tea and starting an argument along the line of | who was the greater writer, Tolstcy or Anatole France. | That kind of stuff throws me. “Tony would argue with him. and relieve me of t of such a subject at such an hour. But now; s gone I have to bear the load all by myself. |

SF

horror that Teny It’s awful.” And Nicky stands and grins while the major talks. | Our conversation drifted off onto other things, and | a long time afterwards, out of a clear sky, Maj. | Miller said: Damn it, I'd give a month's payv—--no, I'd give six| months’ pay-—na, by God, I'd give a year's pay if only old Tony were back.” And Nicky would gladly do the same.

Inside Indianapolis By Lowell Nussbaum

REMEMBER THAT big clock at 16th.and Capitol that used to advertise Chevrolet? Well it got its hands back and is telling pretty fair time for Royal Crown cola. . .. Seen at Hook's, 38th and College, the other evening: A husky, good-looking, tanned naval officer, wearing several service ribbons, and downing three big strawberry sodas, one after another. A couple of blonds with him giggled and drank cokes. . .. Lt. Jim Tucker, the former secretary of state, is over in Africa. He's second in command of a landing barge and reportedly is getting anxious to do a little landing large yellow and black butterfly attracted attention of various persons on monument circle Thursday noon. It would flutter around in its usual bewildered state, almost landing on io ve shoulders of one passerby after another. Tc at least one shivering pedestrian, it was a pleasant

hint of summer to come.

Trashy Comment

: OUR STORY the other day about Mayor Tyndall having his chauffeur get out of the car and make a private trash collector pick up some debris that had fallen off his truck, caught the eve of Mrs. Harry Geiger, 403 W. 32d st Right away Mrs. Geiger “If our mayor is really interested in pre= venting the city from being littered with trash and why doesn't he follow the city’s own trash wagons around. Garbage wagons, also. Then he could have his chauffeur stop the boys from just tossing baskets of trash ‘at’ the trucks instead of in them.” We hasten to join in the chorus of seconds to that motion. We've observed the same thing in certain sections of town and weve had scores of complaints about it from others. However, to be perfectly fair, welll have to admit it isn’t a new evil, but existed to a lesser or greater extent

FDR and Stalin

WASHINGTON, May 3.—Along with his report on the state of the nation, when Soviet Ambassador Maxim Litvinoff leaves here for Moscow this week he will almost certainly likewise be the bearer of another Roosevelt bid for a personal meeting with Premier Stalin. Never has such a meeting been quite so needed as now. The Soviet-Polish break—without advance warning either to Washington or London — 1s a further indication of the Kremlin's intention to play a lone hand in Europe. The collective-peace idea of Messrs. Roosevelt and Churchill is in danger. Without Russia it would become impossible. And so would the Atlantic Charter as the foundation of the post-war world. Unless they can induce Mr. Stalin to co-operate with them, their plans for after the armistice will have to

. pndergo radical revision. # Moreover,

President Roosevelt must have a better {8ca of what is in Premier Stalin’s mind to guide him at home. ublic opinion in this country is a controlling factor. Treaties, to be valid, must be ratified br the senate. Just now opinion on Capitol Hill seems to favor a declaration pledging American participation in some kind of world organization to maintain the $F 32. But there is little or no chance of anything ike that happening as long as the European situation remains in its present muddied state. There must be a clarification—especially with regard to Russia,

Yee Crafty Nazi Scheme

REPORTS FROM MOSCOW, London and elseere seem to confirm the impression that the Soviet 'nion considers a large part of Europe as her own special sphere, and that her break with Poland was

My Day

WASHINGTON. Sunday. —I have just read a book by Ethel Gorham: “So Your Husband Has Gone to War» It is entertaining and full of good common gense advice. I think pages 122 and 123 should be fead and reread by every woman. It is a universal experience and sometimes it isn't only what happens in marriage. Sisters and brothers, mothers and sons, girls and their sweethearts have sometimes found that furloughs were not all that they had planned. The men they were with were not the men who went away. Somehow, they were entirely different — moody, perhaps too gay, quite evidently covering something by the gaiety, anxious to forget instead of telling all the experiences which they want so mich to hear. This is just a sample of many other things which you will find useful in this little: book and which, on the whole, is quite delightful to read. I loved the little bit about the woman who tried to : up her home And send her child away and found” 8. Solid {on Hor Rushaind, oft at the war, only

also. Nevertheless,

during the last administration ought to be done

we do think something could and about it where it exists.

Around the Town

ONE OF THE familiar sights in the vicinity of memorial plaza is a U. S. marine sergeant being taken | for a walk by a scottie dog. You can see them most every evening before dinner. The marine, in case] you haven't recognized him, is Sgt. Don ‘McClure, | formerly of the Star editorial staff. ... Paul B.| Hunt, manager of the National Concrete and Fire-! proofing Co., and head man in construction of the new Allison plant, was confined to his room in the I. A. C. with the flu all last week. ... Sharp-eyed| Lou Sieveking Jr. looked at the exhibit of military equipment in the Banner-Whitehill store windows | last week and right away was reminded of the old | verse from Poor Richard's Almanac: "For want of | a (horseshoe) nail ... a kingdom was lost.” W hat! reminded him was the fact a valve cap was missing] from the right rear tire of the amphibious jeep, some-| times known as the weep.

Housecleaning Days

HOSPITALS HAVE had to change their methods | of doing their spring housecleaning. In the old days! according to Mrs. Carrie McLeod, registrar at Meth-| odist hospital, it was a simple matter to clear a whole | floor of patients and give it a thorough cleaning. Now, with evefy room pressed into service and a long) waiting list. the cleaners have to take it a room at a! time, moving in -the minute a patient leaves, and get | ting through before the next patient is wheeled in. It's a hectic life. . You'd think house moving | would be a thing of the past, what with the shortage of houses. but from one of the public utilities, we lesrn there are just about as many calls for service connections now- as there were in ordinary times. | Some vacancies are created by men going into the, army, their families moving in with relatives,

By William Philip Simms

merely by way of a warning to others to keep hands off. If that is true, then the president may ask in vain for any advance pledges of world collaboration after the peace. Nor is that all. The United States and Britain are on trial before the small nations. When the Nazi madman began to absorb his neighbors, the small nations rallied to the side of Britain and America as their champions. Mr. Roosevelt and Mr. Churchill responded by offering them the Atlantic Charter. Now they see themselves threatened. If Poland or any of the smaller states is sacrificed, it will play havoe with the united nations. Let there be no mistake about that. It will be precisely what the Nazis are playing for —noe merely a diplomatic rupture between Poland and Russia. They want to be able to “prove” to the sorely pressed little countries of Europe that their salvation depends on Germany, not on America or Britain. If we let them get away with that, it would be a victory of the first magnitude for Hitler.

Stalin Runs the Show

WHETHER AMBASSADOR LITVINOFF carries much weight in the Kremlin is a question. In foreign affairs as in everything else, what Mr. Stalin thinks is what matters. Mr. Litvinoff, the collective-security man, the proponent of closer ties with Britain and America, was ruthlessly shoved aside when Mr. Stalin} wanted a pact with Hitler. In May, 1939, he was re-| placed by Foreign Commissar Molotov, and in early 1941 he was expelled from the central committee of the Communist party for “inability to discharge obligations”’—whatever that meant. But he was not purged,” as resorted, or liquidated.” Instead they allowed him to keep his apartment, automobile and chauffeur—signs that he was not entirely out of favor. Apparently the Kremlin realized his value and merely shelved him against some future time when his talents might be needed. After Germany turned on Russia, he was named ambassador to the United States.

By Eleanor Roosevelt

a sense of terrible insecurity, because he felt he had no real home which he remembered anywhere in the background to which he could cling, and for which he was actually fighting. Many a husband would not have been honest enough to stop his wife in time. He might have thought he owed it to the woman to let her do the things she thought wisest. Yet, as a matter of fact, all she needed to make the effort to go on living as usual, was the knowledge that the home he knew meant security to the man somewhere far beyond her ken. What it must mean to those men so far away to! be able to turn their thought for a minute to some-' thing they fee! is fixed and stable in their world of home, something they love. And now, to something in lighter vein. Franklin P, Adams has just gotten out an anthology of light] verse. It if called “Innocent Merriment,” and while I know these poems are hig favorites, I am sure you | will find plenty of your own there, too. Who does not like Christopher Morley’s “The Gospel of Mr. Pepys,” ending:

“When k We

are a shilling each ture on a few.”

| tire shortages.

Steaming Down the River to New Orleans

TET Th ee TH Se er err

The Old Days

Come Back To Life

Editor's Note—This is the first story in a series of five, retracing the route of the famous old river packets that plied between Cincinnati'and New Orleans, written by a writer who recently made the 1500-mile trip on the steamer Gordon C. Greene.

By ROBERT TALLEY Times Special Writer ON

THE OHIO. — The mournful bass of the steamer Gordon C. Greene's big whistle awakened sleeping echoes in the valleys and hills as we backed from the old cobblestone wharf at Cincinnati, bound for New Orleans which lay at the end of 1500 miles of winding river. The echoes we heard were those of that proud fleet of old-time packets whose billowing smoke, trailing in feathery plumes from tall stacks, once darkened the skies from Pittsburgh to New Orlens as they busily plied the Ohio and the Mississippi. For a glamorous half-century they unfolded a romantic era in America’s history on a stage that was nearly 2000 miles long and then, as the railroads came, they faded and died.

" = 5

Recall Ancient Glory THE GORDON GREENE, on which we were aboard, was retracing the route of this ghostly fleet in. an effort to recapture some of its forgotten glory. The only passenger steamer now plying these rivers, she left Cincinnati on her annual spring cruise with 189 vacationists in her staterooms and a crew of 30. These vacationists were mostly elderly, retired businessmen and their wives and a steamboat voyage down the Ohio and Mississippi solved their problem of what to do in these days of gasoline rationing, crowded railroad trains and overflowing hotels. Skipper of the Gordon Greene was youthful, good-natured Capt. Tom Greene. son of the Greene Line's founder for whom the boat was named, and “skipper-emeri-tus™—if you choose to call her that—was his mother, Capt. Mary B. Greene, 75, the only licensed woman steamboat pilot and master on the Ohio and Mississippi rivers. Her husband, Capt. Gordon C. Greene, died about 12 years ago after a lifetime at steamboating during most of

which they worked together,

» » »

50 Years on River

THE PASSENGERS who came to know Mrs. Greene well addressed her as “Cap'n Mary,” and it would pay you to know her, too. She has spent 50 years on the river, She gave birth to Capt. Tom Greene, a true son of thé river, aboard the steamer Greeneland, of which she was then pilot, when the boat was frozen in the ice near Point Pleasant, W. Va. on a cold day in February, 1904. She once piloted a steamboat. through a howling hurricane, and on another occasion she narrowly escaped death when an explosion of 40 quarts of nitro-glycerine on a nearby shore shattered the windows of her pilot house. At 75, “Cap'n Mary” is still a remarkable woman, Every night on the long trip from Cincinnati to New Orleans she danced with the passengers in the steamer's big cabin while the orchestra played popular tunes. The last waltz, which came at 11 p. m. and which signaled ‘lights out” aboard the ship, was always “You Tell Me Your Dreams and I'll Tell You Mine” and almost invariably she

| danced this farewell number with

her stalwart son who towered head and shoulders above her. “Cap'n Tom,” as the passengers soon learned to call their friendly skipper, was an interesting figure, too. Some nights he regaled them with lectures on the lore of the river, calling attention to points of interest, and on other nights he joined the boat's orchestra as a pianist and played jazz most expertly. He was a far cry, indeed, from the old-time steamboat eaptain of stern and dignified mien, whose unlimited authority gave

| him the right to marry couples or put offenders in irons; who wore

the best of silks and broadcloths, a pea-sized diamond sparkling in his ruffied shirt-front; who was the admiration of all the hoopskirted ladies and the envy of all the beaver - hatted gentlemen whose crop of neatly shampooed whiskers contributed to his impressive appearance. The good steamboat captain of that far-off day spent much time keeping those whiskers silky and glossy. = = =

Spell of Past Lingers

THE GORDON GREENE was a stern-wheeler—250 feet long, 45 feet wide with twin stacks towering 65 feet above the water at their ornate crowns. In general appearance, she strongly resembled the romantic old packets that plied the river in its golden era, of 50 to 75 years ago. The spell

of the old days lingered in her

ing down the Ohio and Mississippi rivers.

————

Here's the steamer Gordon C. Green, which retraced the route of the famous old-time packets from Cincinnati to New Orleans, travels

made in one week.

On the bridge stands Capt. Tom Greene, master of the he

Gordon Greene, a true son of the river. ice on the

steamboat locked in the paddle-wheel that churned the river into foamy miles, in her lofty pilothouse where hawk-eyed men steered her safely through the winding bends, in her long cabin--running almost the entire length of the boat— that resembled a resplendent tunnel. Here white-coated Negro walters served the daily meals, and at night the tables were removed so that dancing, games and amateur theatricals could be enJoved by the passengers. It was 8 o'clock on a Saturday night when the big steamer’s big bell tolled, First Mate “Doc” Carr droned “All ashore that's going ashore!” Then, after a bustle of excited goodbys between passenggers and friends who had come to see them off, the long gangplank lifted and we backed away from Cincinnati's wharf and headed downstream. Before us lay New Orleans, seven days and 1500 winding miles away. Nearly every mile of that 1500 is littered with the bones of steamboats that were wrecked, or burned or sunk in the old days for both the Ohio and the Mississippi, in addition to being rivers of rcmance, were also rivers of tragedy. The old packets crashed together on foggy nights or in howling storms, exploded their thin boilers as captains racing for business at the landings sought more speed, snags ripped open their bottoms, fires swept them from stem to stern and in many ways death lurked in nearly every sweeping bend. » ” 2

Scene of Tragic Wreck

NEAR WARSAW, KY. we passed over the sand-buried hulks of the steamers America and United States which collided, caught fire and burned to the ‘water's edge on a stormy night in December, 1868, with a loss of more than 100 lives. The pilot of the United States had failed to hear the America’s whistie in the howling wind, and as the America rounded a narrow bend the two went togther headon. Early Sunday morning we passed Louisville, Ky. taking the government canal around the falis of the Ohio which gave the city its birth. Before the first canal was built in 1833 steamers from upstream and downstream, in periods of low water, had to exchange their cargoes hy hauling them in wagons over three miles

Your Blood ls Needed

May quota for Red Cross Blood Plasma Center — 5800 donors. Donors so far this month— 173. Saturday's quota—200. Saturday's donors—173, You can help meet the quota by calling LI-1441 for an appointment or going to the center, second floor, Chamber of Commerce building, N. Meridian st. mes —

splashing

He was born on a upper Ohio.

of land at this point. The canal and its Jocks have heen.enlarged several times since and today they accommodate the biggest river boats and their tows. ” ” ”

Where Lee Was Built

AT NEW ALBANY, Ind, a ‘ew miles below Leuisville, a fertilizer factory on the sloping bank mars the spot where the steamer Robt. E. Lee, famed for its New Or-leans-to-St. Louis race with the Natchez in 1870, was built in 1867. It was a shipyards then. The fleet packet that was to hecome the pride of every Southerner had been ccmpleted except for the painting of the Confederate commander’s name on the wheel= house when Capt. John W, Cannon, her owner, learned of a plot by Northerners to burn her. He soived the problem by raising steam and taking the boat across the river to the friendly shores of Kentucky where the name of the South's hero was given her.

Abcut noon, the Gordon Greene, winding through the zig-zagging bends that furrow the steep hills in this region, floated past the tomb of one of the most colorful charecters, and certainly the most vindictive, in the Ohio river's his« torv. He was Capt. Frank McHarry, a crusty old skipper who operated a ferryboat near that point, a few miles below Louisville, in the days before the Civil war. ” ” ”

He Never Forgave Them

OLD CAPT. McHARRY, whose flow of scorching profanity was limited only by his natural breath, bitterly hated the pilots of the big steamboats whose waves rocked his little ferryboat and jostled his passengers and scared the cattle. He roared at the pilots every time they passed and when he died he provided in his will that he should be buried in a tomb high up on the hillside, his body standing erect and his face before a glass window, so he could continue to roar at them even in death. His rock-hewn tomb is still there and so is the little window that his upright corpse faced, both plainly visible from the river, but long ago old Captain McHarry's bones crumbled into dust.

A little later we passed Bran= denburg, Ky. where Capt. John Morgan, the noted Confederate raider, commandeered the Steam=er Alice Dean in 1863 and forced the captain to take his band across the river into Indiana for one of their thrilling sallies. About dark we came to Rock Island, a big boulder near the right bank, where General Lafayette was nearly drowned when the Steamer Mechanic, conveying him from Nashville, Tenn. to Marietta, Ohio, was sunk there on the night of May 26, 1825. The aged Frenchman was rescued from the water by a Negro deckhand and together they spent the night on the muddy bank. A number of other passengers were drowned. Evansville and other towns glided by during the night, and.

The 1500-mile voyage was

Only woman skipper and licensed steamboat pilot on the Ohio and

Mississippi rivers is Capt. Mary B. Greene, shown house of {he steamér Gordon C. Greene, named Tor

Monday morning found us at the mouth of the Wabash, dividing line between Indiana and Illinois. A few miles farther on lay Shawneetown, Ill, the town which was moved five miles inland by the Red Cross after the disastrous flood of 1937. All that remains now of old Shawneetown on the crumbling bank are five or six old buildings, including a bank, patiently waiting to be washed into the river by the next flood. ” ” ”

Lair of River Pirates

ABOUT NOON we passed Cave= In Rock, Ill, a big cave in the stony bluff from which Sam Mason's cut-throat band of river pirates sallied forth to prey upon flatboatmen floating down from Pittsburgh with their valuable cargoes in the early 1800s. Mason eventually was killed by a traitor in his murderous band, who cut off his head, packed it in clay and carried it to Pittsburgh to claim the reward of $5000 in gold that had been offered for the bandit. Old Smithland, Ky. near the mouth of the Cumberland river, marked the home of a wealthy plantér of antebellum days who murdered a Negro slave and stuffed the body into the chimney of his mansion, according to river

tradition. When dogs dragged out |

the body and his crime was dis~

covered he fled to an island a few |

miles upstream. The island is now called Dog Island, and little remains of old Smithland except a big house with two tall brick chimneys that look down sternly from amid the trees on top of a high hill.

Late in the afternoon the Gorse |

don Greene tied up at Paducah, Ky., home of Irvin Cobb and his inimitable Judge Priest, and many of the passengers went ashore to test the mint juleps at the bar of the Irvin Cobb hotel. Safe behind its massive new concrete sea wall today, Paducah bears little evi-

ere in the pilot late husband.

flood that swirled through its streets in 1937, causing $15,000,000 damage. A few miles below Paducah, on the Illinois bank, we passed the ruins of old Ft. Massac, built by the French in 1743, which was almost wiped out by a clever Indian ruse. For days the occupants of the little fort had watched a bear that paraded boldly on the Kens tucky shore, and finally, being une able to contain themselves any longer, they took their fintlock muskets and paddled across to get him. The creature proved to be an Indian dressed in a bearskin, whose fellow braves were lying in ambush for the French when they landed their canoes. It was near midnight when we tied up at Cairo, where the Ohio empties its waters into the mighty Miseiseippi. The steamer took aboard two Mississippi river pilots at this point, and soon we were on our way.

NEXT: On the RG

HEROES OF PACIFIC TO ADDRESS BAR

Four veterans of jungle fighting in the South Pacific war area will dis [cuss their experiences at the meets ing of the Indianapolis Bar associa«

[tion Wednesday in the Columbia

| elub, | The speakers, all patients at Bill« ings General hospital, Ft. Harrison, | will be chosen by Capt. Elmer Sher« wood, public relations officer at the | fort. Their names have not been | announced, Maj. George A. Boyleston, an offi cer at the hospital, will introduce the speakers. Harvey A, Graybill, association president, has named Floyd W. Burns, Oscar C. Hagemier, Elton F. Leffler, L. Russell Newgent, |and Bernard Stroyman to the récep-

dence of the raging Ohio river | tion eommisiee.

HOLD EVERYTHING

“Hurry up with that water soft. Sefer 4, 9 0 0 SH

WARNS OF T00 ‘MUCH WHIPPING CREAM

By Science Service

CHICAGO, May 3-~Comes the post-war day when you can once more get all the thick whipping cream you want, your doctor may be advising you to go slow on it to avoid anemia. Drinking one pint of 32 per cent cream causes human blood serum to become injurious to the red cells of the blood, making them more fragile and more easily destroyed. This discovery and its implicas

| Dr, | University of Chicago here in a

[tions are announced by Prof. Vie tor Johnson, Dr. Joan Longini and L. Willard Freeman of the

report to the magazine, Science. The extra blood destruction res sulting from taking a lot of fat or cream seems to he insufficient, the scientists state, to produce anemia in Barthel persons whose bone Rr row capable of Frome, du extra po blood: cell losses. ¥e