Evening star., 1942-08-28
britons Cheer Train
OF American Troops
Speeding 10 Camp
Hot Food Is Served
As Cooehes Stop at
Countryside Stations
By WARD MOREHOUSE,


Countryside Stations
BY WARD MOREHOUSE,
written for North American Newspaper
Alliance.
ABOARD A TROOP TRAIN, Brit
ish Isles.-Aperican troops are roll
ing toward camp as I type these
lines with my portable propped atop
q battalion field desk. This train
is jerky and fast and it is whirling
past a countryside planted in oats
and wheat. Sheep are grazing on
the rolling meadows, rain is falling
In dreary drizzle.
There are 10 soldier packed
coaches on this particular train
those coaches with the plush up
holstery and the sliding doors, ever
SO familiar to Americans who know
their continental railways. Such
trains as this one, many of them,
are now bearing hordes of the young,
hard, helmeted troops of the United
States with whom T crossed the
Atlantic.
I am in crowded compartment
occupied by off1cers-a colonel, a
lieutenant colonel, Maj. r. c. Parker,
West Point 80; Capt. Ben Stein
berg or Starke, Fla, who was light
heavyweight on West Points boxing
team for three years, and Capt. r.
M. Campbell. the British escort
officer.
Has Look Of U. S. Countryside.
These hearty and hardy troops
from the States piled onto tenders
In the ghostly half-light of a cold,
damp daybreak, set foot on soil that
is new to them, the soil of Britain,
and now they're being hurtled to-
ward their new camp.
AS they ride they're gazing in
fascination at terrain that often has
the look of the Pennsylvania coun-
tryside. Those not window-gazing
are sleeping, lounging and reading.
Reading? Yes, all the English
newspapers they could lay their
eager hands on, as well as 25-cent
novels and tattered copies of Wild
West magazines. They'll save their
sightseeing for another day.
The unceasing drizzle gives bleak
ness to the lush fields that lie
along our route. A windmill looms
starkly against the gray sky. Into
view comes village, white
steeple, a winding canal, cattle,
Belgian horses, red and white bus,
more sheep, and a long, long row
of two-storied brick houses, despair
ing and unlovely in their sameness.
And then. all of sudden, the bomb
shattered wall of factory, mark
left by Jerry several paragraphs
are changed or eliminated by CEN
sors).
Wonderful! No Billboards.
AS our high-speed, all-soldier ex-
press sways and rattles, the officers
are talking of many things-of the
Scottish moors, the Orkney Islands,
of the Kansas wheat fields, of the
Book offensive, of eur spectacularly
successful crossing Of the Atlantic,
Of things grave and things trivial
Look at that stone fence" said
one officer. Now, isn't that just
like England"
Wonderful" observed another
officer, mot to see billboards." :.
1--WE get them in spots" said Capt.
Campbell, "but they're not just
everywhere, you know" Talk
ing about our general" said the
first officer, I've known him for
years. He is a fighter; he has a lot
on the ball. There's never any
footing about that guy; I'll
light with him as long as he's SOL
diering."
Served Hot Coffee.
Our flyer makes several stops
along the way. and there are cheers
from the station platforms for the
United States troops, never to be
mistaken for those of any other
land. The warmth and the pleas
ure OF the Britons shows in every
face. Hot coffee, meat pies and
cake are served beneath station
sheds. Great hustle and congestion
on the platform. with all eyes on
these young huskies from overseas
the coal miners, the farmers, the
students, the truck drivers, the fac
tory workers and the professional
soldiers who make up this new and
vibrant army.
The rain has stopped. The
colonel says: Clearing up, all right.
Maybe we'll get a chance to see
Jerry after ALL" The English
fields are now shimmering in the
sunlight-felds planted in oats,
wheat, turnips, potatoes, cabbage.
A victory garden, primly laid out, it
is just beside the tracks.
We're Here to Fight"
Sheep Craze placidly on a knoll.
Cattle are now everywhere. A
church is cleaning under a coat of
fresh paint. A red barn has the
look of plenty. Fields stretch away
In varied hues and patterns. And
for the moment Jerry and the war
seem far away.
Hours pass. We have covered
miles. Nightfall has come on and
we've blacked out, with heavy cur
tains drawn at the windows. No
more stops, says the British escort
oficer. until we've reached our des-
tination. A lieutenant from
Chicago says he's been longing all
his life to see the British Isles and
now he'll get his chance. A
lieutenant from Memphis says:
Were here to fight. That's why
they've shipped us over, so let's
60 to it,"
Our train rolls on through the
eerie blackness The train guard
slides back the compartment door
Another 10 miles" he says, land
you've arrived" Another 10 mile.
and this soldier horde from Ameri-
can soil will have arrived at its
home in the British Isles. Home
that is, for little while.