Evening star., 1942-09-14
Desert Crossroads
Comes 10 Life in
Amy Maneuvers
Men Ignore Dirt, Dust
And Thirst to Pitch
Into Action With Will
BY WILLIAM F. BONI,

A HIGHWAY JUNCTION IN
THE CALIFORNIA DESERT, Sept.
14--Daytime and this is a drab,
dreary spot. At opposite corners
stand two dusty filling stations, each
with a soft drink and beer counter.
A California State inspection sta
ton is on another corner, manned
Gay and night by bored, desert
weary inspectors.
A miserable, ramshackle shed
takes up the fourth corner, shack
thrown together out of old packing
cases, hunks of tin. anything that
will keep out the dust.
But tonight it's different. There
is more dust than usual, because
troops are on the move in desert
training exercise. There is excite
ment, too.
The roads that cross here run vir-
tually north south and eastwest.
There is traffic every way, all of 1t
controlled from the center of the
junction by an efficient MP who
keeps the flow of vehicles moving
with all the ease of veteran traf-
fic cop.
Dust and Diesel Fumes.
Each truck, half-track and tank
that snorts past blows new clouds
of fine, powdered desert sand into
his ears, his nose and his eyes. Each
tank adds to that the heavy fumes
of burned Diesel oil for the sitting
exhaust from gasoline driven air.
plane engine. Yet there is hardly
a hitch, though all the military
traffic is moving on blackout lights
and an occasional civilian vehicle
threatens to disrupt things.
Two motorcycles roar up from
the south and come to q stop. It's
the head of an armored scouting
column, and back Of them you can
see the tiny blue blackout lights Of
heavier vehicles strung far down
the road.
The dispatch riders confer briefly
with the MP, then their cycles snort
into action again. One starts too
fast. It's wheels hit patch of loose
sand, and the motorcycle spins in
dizzy, tight circle. finally throws its
rider. With the motor still running,
he remounts, again gives it too much
gas, spins once more, is thrown once
more. But he hardly hesitates,
mounts for the third time, and at
last is off into the darkness up the
highway.
That's the spirit that will win
the war for us" says high-ranking
observer.
Kitchen Trucks Return.
Behind him come three light
tanks, belching black smoke as their
commander gives the go-ahead
signal that is taken up all down the
line. Other vehicles follow, until
this column has cleared the crossing.
The last truck barely has been lost
to view when a line of half tracks,
each drawing 37-mm. gun, comes
racing up from the east.
They, too, take the northbound
road. One after the other plunges
out Of the darkness into the glaring
crossroad light, wheels around the
corner without losing speed, and
promptly is lost in the cloud Of dust
kicked up by the preceding car.
While these lines are moving to-
ward the front, others are coming
out-kitchen trucks returning to the.
safety Of the rear lines after having
caught up with and fed their units
in the field; ammunition carriers
going to their depots for fresh loads:
maintenance trucks dispatched for
some piece of repair equipment.
A alf-track-"Hitler' Hangmen,"
it's called-limps up to the filling
station, one tire fat. A barrel
chested lieutenant, as dusty and
griny as his men, leaps out, and
seconds later the crew is hard at
work jacking up the wheel, un-
screwing the lugs, laying out the
tools for quick repair job.
Not Fast Enough.
It's not fast enough for the lieu
tenant. He lends hand here, gives
advice there. finally can't stand it
any longer.
"You know what our mission is. !"
he tells the acting car commander.
TRY to catch up with us when you're
xeady," and he piles into the second
vehicle in line. A hand signal, and
they're on and away. whooping and
yelling like = bunch Of cowhands
headed for town on payday.
For this Is what these men like.
Next to actual combat-and, while
no one particularly wants to die,
they're ready and eager for fight
this is the nearest thing TO what
they've been trained for.
They are dusty and dirty. Salt
literally is caked on their faces and
on their sun and laundry faded
coveralls, the result OF perspiring
in this dry air In the parched
barren countryside, where there are
only rocks and sand and mountains
and greasewood and cactus and
sagebrush and rattlers and jack
rabbits and lizards, and then more
of the same, they'll have no chance
to clean up until the problem end'
two days later.
Toughness to Match Weapons.
Very likely they will be getting
by on short rations or emergency
rations, for it's hard to make con-
nections between cook truck ane
company when things are moving
as rapidly as they do in the desert
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