Evening star., 1951-12-16

Star stan Photo.
Sergt. / /c Dumas
spread over the embattled peninsula,
reporting strange war in a way that
was. perhaps. strange to the tradi-
tional concept of foot-soldiering.
was one of the three GIs who
huddled close to the stove to swap
stories.
1t seemed long time since Octo-
Der. 1948. when We reported to Fort
Dix. N. j.. for basic training. The
Pentagon had tagged rs of us to
become soldier-specialists in Army
public information.
We had enlisted for three years
to take part in an untried expert
ment.
The Army's Offer
The Army offered us this: Basic
training, stint at the Armed Forces
Information School (then at Carlisle,
Pa. a three-month loan-out (for
training and Seasoning) to a civilian
newspaper or radio station in the
United States, and permanent as
signment in the Army public in
formation field.
Competition for slots in the pro-
gram was keen. Roughly the same
physical and mental requirements as
for West Point were set up for the
program.
Basic training was the usual Cruel
ing routine-but invaluable, as it
turned out, on the Korean front.
Still, it was the longest eight weeks
Of my life, and when it was all over,
breathed a sigh of relief.
While waiting for the next public
information class at Carlisle to open,
was sent on temporary duty to the
Military District of Washington for
practical training. Here I first met
some OF my fellow trainees-a five
man croSs-section of the rs who were
to become my classmates, foxhole
companions and warm friends.
The Colonel and Friends
There were Bill Terry and Ray
Briem, pair of gangling, mellow
throated radio announcers from Og-
den, Utah; Mike Ward, son of a
Hearst executive from New Jersey,
and Charlie Macatee, Front Royal
(Va) radio announcer whose dad
was colonel in the Regular Army.
Then there was Colonel" Eddie
Sheehan of Brockton. Mass, who got
his nickname when he unthinkingly
strobe out of the Pentagon barber
shop wearing colonel's jacket
eagles, medals and all.
We finished our apprenticeship and
went on to school. Approximately 25
trainees were added to each of the
next three regular classes at Carlisle.
each time walking off with most of
the top honors in the six-week term.
Editors note: Sergt Dumas
graduated at the head OF his class,
earning conlmenddtion from the
commanding general of the school.
He later Das to min the Army
Commentator Ribbon, the Bronze
Star and three promotions for his
jront-line reporting in Korea.)
Our next stop in this marathon
training course was at newspapers
and radio stations from Maine to
Miami, Chicago to Houston and
Seattle to San Diego. was loaned
out for three months as staff re-
porter with the Pasadena Star News
In California, as far away as I'd ever
been from my Rhode Island home.
A Soldiers Dreom
Like the rest of the PIO trainees,
wore civilian clothes and worked
under the supervision of an executive
at the newspaper. Again. like the rest
of the trainees, lived at the YMCA.
reassumed my "Mr." temporarily
and waited anxiously for my monthly
subsistence checks from the Penta-
gon. Sounds good? For an Army
private it was dream come true.
They worked my head off-put me
through the reporting mill-and
loved it. In turn I did police, court,
city, community, sports, features and
even society news.
Most of my cohorts got similar
treatment, and most made good. Don
Bowers, Huntington (W, Va.) boy
inherited the sports editorship of the
Columbia IS. Co State when the
sports editor fell Ill.
Radio specialists Pat Mallahan. o1
Bellingham, Wash, started as a
script boy with WRVA, Richmond
and wound up producing and di-
recting three shows a week.
Bruce Winters of New York. like
Mike Ward, the son of a newsman
made hit on the Albany IN. y
Times Union; Larry Kane of Wal.
than, Mass, voluntarily WORKED
seven days a week at the Buffalo
Courier Express. 'I didn't think they
made reporters like that anymore,
his akiitor wrote in a report to tht
Pentagon.
There was a chuckle now and theY