World War II Chronicle: December 30, 1942
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George Fielding Eliot column on page 10… Sports section begins on page 16, and features a column by Grantland Rice…
The bridal announcements have never been featured in the Chronicle, but I noticed a familiar name while scanning the pages: Gatch. Yes, if you have been following the naval battles of the Solomon Islands, that is Capt. Thomas L. Gatch commander of “Battleship X” — USS South Dakota. Capt. Gatch is home in time to walk his daughter down the aisle as his ship recently arrived at the Brooklyn Navy Yard for repair and refit. Gatch’s son-in-law is Lt. John P. Armstrong. Sadly, he is killed in a plane crash in November 1943.
Roving Reporter by Ernie Pyle
ORAN, Algeria — If you want a touch of native life in your North African stories, here’s a little sample.
Lieut. Nat Kenney, of Baltimore, has an old broken down motorcycle that he rides about the country. The other day he was riding to Arzew, about 20 miles away. He passed a monstrous-looking lizard lying on the pavement, so he stopped and went back.
The lizard was about a foot long, plus six inches of tail. The thing kept changing color. Its eyes could move separately, and in any direction. It was an evil-looking customer indeed.
Nat poked it gingerly with his shoes, but it didn’t attack him. Then he poked it with his gloved hand, and still it didn’t try to bite. Then he stuck his hand in front of its nose, and the lizard crawled up on the glove, just as though it had been waiting for Nat all the time.
So Nat held real still and the lizard continued its crawl — up his arm, over his shoulder, up the back of his neck and clear to the top of his head. There it sort of curled up, resting on the top of his cap and looking forward snakelike over his brow. Nat, crowned with this dragon, got back on his motorcycle and rode into Arzew.
He parked the motorcycle and walked down the street. He kept running into soldiers he knew. They would start to salute, and right in the middle of the salute their mouths would fly open and they would gurgle out:
“Lieutenant, for God’s sake don’t!”
Nat had dinner with the lizard still poised comfortably on top of his head, spent a pleasant hour walking around the town and startling his friends, then got back on his motorcycle and rode back almost to Oran. Finally he stopped at a field hospital where he knew some of the doctors. He left his friend there for them to experiment with.
Altogether the lizard spent about three hours and rode about 30 miles on top of Nat’s head. The Army is thinking of transferring Lieut. Kenney to Ireland for fear he’ll come riding to town next with a camel on his handlebars.
A local newspaper had a small piece from America recently saying — if I read it correctly — that the maximum age for induction into the U.S. Army had been lowered from 45 to 37. That’s good news for us old duffers who fled America to escape the draft, but they might have decided it a little sooner.
The next time I have dinner with General Eisenhower (what next time?) I’ll have to speak to him about this business and tell him to get busy. I’d kind of like to sport a few stripes myself. I’m due for a six-months foreign stripe already, and although I haven’t been wounded and don’t expect to be, they might give me a stripe for being awfully tired.
Evening star. (Washington, D.C.), 30 December 1942. Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers. Lib. of Congress.
https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045462/1942-12-30/ed-1/