Evening star., 1943-01-15

1t. and Mrs. Whitaker oh
they looked over photos of the
swered. Staff Sergt. James w.
Reynolds, the radio operator who
shared the raft with Capt. Cherry
and me, insisted that bit of toe
would be good bait.
Remember, we were deadly serious.
We were growing weak and knew
we would have to have food soon.
Just when and whether we would
have begun carving up ourselves for
bait I don't know and never will.
Because just then there came an
amazing interruption.
The air above us had been empty
moment before, but now there was
Tapping of wings and sea swal-
low alighted on Rickenbacker' head.
We all held our breath.
The bird, about half the size OF a
seagull, looked curiously at each of
us in turn swinging its head around
with peculiar darting motions
Capt. Rick's hand moved up
slowly. He rubbed his chin. He
caressed his nose. He smoothed an
eyebrow. Then. with a swift snatch,
he made the bird prisoner.
Rick carved him up and we baited
the hooks. There was leg left that
no one wanted, so I ate 1t. Never
again. 1t was rank and the muscles
were like iron wires. Meanwhile,
two fish were landed and passed over
to Col Adamson to ration. Never
was a man so closely watched. Each
Of us received fish steak about an
inch square and half an inch thick
just the size you get in some of our
better restaurants. Only we didn't
have to pay SITS for this.
Thirst Follows.
There was no strengthening effect
and I, for one, was even thirstier
afterward. We had bad night and
awakened on our fifth day with our
mouths dry and sore for want Of
water. The morning fare was a dud |
While We were sitting there miser-
able and depressed, an ill-advised
school of minnows swept past us,
that is. some of them got past. We
scooped up enough of them to give
each of us about three 212 inch,
semi-transparent fish. 1t was the
first time ever had eaten live hors
d doeuvres. All needed to follow
them up was a good meal. The
others must have been thinking
along the same lines. because the
talk turned to food and nearly drove
us all crazy.
Bill Cherry said that when we
were rescued he would take us to
eat at a famous dining room atop a
San Francisco hotel.
Then he pretended he was the
waiter and began taking our orders.
Most every one started out with
about a dozen kinds of chilled fruit
juices; pineapple, orange, grapefruit,
apple, tomato and lemon. The next
course was several helpings of ice
cream. Every one wanted straw
berry, I recall.
Then came the steaks and mush-
rooms, chops, roasts, turkey and
feaping platters of cold meats and
cheese with jellied consomme and
lemon. No one in the crowd ordered
fish. Finally yelled I would brain
the next man who mentioned food.
There was silence for awhile
think it was Johnny Bartek who
began talking about the luscious
hamburgers you can get back in
New Jersey. We decided our pre-
vious menus had been too elaborate
so we settled for strawberry malteds.
This is strange, because I had never
drunk strawberry matted: always
chocolate. But the craving for that
particular drink stayed with me.
Hold Prayer Meeting.
At last Bill Cherry said in his
Texas drawl that he guessed he
would gather all the food we had
dreamed up and trade it for big
frosted pitcher of water with ice
cubes floating in 1t. We all bel
lowed at him to shut up.
While this had been going on the
RATS were strung out in line, held
there by Capt. Cherry's undershirt
which he had split into a sail and
strung between two oars. Every
body felt pretty blue. At last, Pvt.
Bartek got out his Testament and
by common consent we pulled the
RATS together for a prayer meeting.
We said the Lords prayer. Col.
Adamson read from the Bible.
My feeling at the time was that
it wouldn't do any good, but thai it
wouldn't do any harm, either. It
probably was good for the morale.
I saw that Rick seemed to encourage
the prayer meetings and to take
part in them.
Capt. Cherry found text he liked.
I've forgotten the exact wording,
but it was to this effect: Fear ye
not for the morrow, for food and
drink shall be provided" I was
somewhat impressed Capt. Cherry
explained this didn't mean tomor-
row literally. but that it meant
soon. thought of these words
during the wet, dreary night that
followed. I finally dismissed the
subject with the decision that
would believe when I saw the food
and drink. I was destined to see
something like startling proof the
next night.
To Be Continued Tomorrow.
tCopyrisht, 1943, by Chicaso Tribune)