CASUALTIES IN THE AFS  RED CROSS REPORTS STANLEY KULAK KILLED IN ACTION  CHARLES E. PERKINS MISSING  LETTER FROM POW  THE AFS CLUB IN CAIRO  THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER  THANKSGIVING IN THE DESERT (With subsection 3, 16 AFS ACC)  SECOND UNIT COMPLETES PERIOD OF ENLISTMENT  THOUGHTS OF OLD CAIRO ("Poem")  EDITORIAL PAGE  WITH THE FIGHTING FRENCH  A LINK IN THE CHAIN  WESTERN DESERT NEWS  OFFENSIVE MANEUVERS  COY HQ --- IN THE FIELD  THE REMEMBRANCE OF SYRIA

CONTRIBUTORS: Dunbar Hinrichs, G.F.J. King, William Merrill, Pat Fiero, William Brown, Kenneth Stevens.

Unfortunately this work has not been accomplished without losses. May I extend my deepest sympathy and the sympathy of the AFS to the families of those men who have given their lives in relieving the suffering of others, and to the families of those men who are wounded, missing, or captured."

Ralph S. Richmond
Colonel, AFS

American Field Service Middle Last Casualty Lists:--

THE INTERNATIONAL RED CROSS has reported Stanley Kulak killed in action according to a cable from Stephen Galatti to AFS in Cairo.

Kulak was stationed with the Fighting French forces last June during the siege of Bir Hacheim. After the evacuation of Bir Hacheim, Kulak was reported missing. In Vol. 1, No. 1 of THE AFS BULLETIN an article by Lorenzo Semple 3rd, under the title "The American Field Service at Bir Hacheim", told of the siege and subsequent evacuation under devastating shellfire. Sample wrote that he was probably the last to see Kulak on the night of June 10 as the French and AFS were making their way to safety.

He says of the last two hours, "I realized I'd run into a coil, of barbed wire. My frantic efforts to pull loose only got us in deeper. About ten yards from me, across the passage, I saw that the head of the GSD had had the same misfortune. . .He abandoned it (his car), got in with Worden, and our private little convoy moved on again ---leaving me behind. Tichenor disappeared, following Worden, while a moment later Kulak and McElwain went ahead and also disappeared. . . There is no way of knowing what happened to Kulak and MacElwain. I believe I was the last to see them, as they pulled past me while I was stuck in the wire."

It was in this same encounter that Alan Stuyvesant and Alexander MacElwain were captured and George Tichenor was killed.

The official notification of Kulak's death received in the Middle East follows:

(Cairo,January 12)

MAJOR DUNBAR HINRICHS AMERICAN FIELD
SERVICE GHQ MID
EAST FORCES CAIRO

PROVOST MARSHALL'S OFFICE REPORTS STANLEY KULAK KILLED 11 JUNE BURIED THIS REPORT RECEIVED FROM INTERNATIONAL RED CROSS....

STEPHEN GALATTI

VOL. CHARLES E. PERKINS of Platoon 1 15 AFS ACC has been missing since the morning of December 15. He is the first AFS casualty since the night of September 23/4, when Arthur Foster was reported missing.

Following is the complete official report regarding Perkins:-

(All times approximate to 15 minutes)

"The 10 AFS cars moved North with the Xth ADS to a point a few miles South of the main road and West of Marble Arch on the night of December 14, 1942.

"The following morning, December 15, evacuations took place from the Xth ADS (with the Yth Brigade group) to the Xth MDS (with Zth Brigade group) which was a distance of 12 miles South.

"Charles E. Perkins driving car number ---- left the ADS for the MDS at 1730 hours He was carrying three surgical cases including Majors R---and W--- and orderly T. C--- He returned to the ADS for further instructions at 0815 hours. He was directed to the Div. track down which he proceeded. He has not been seen since.

"Just before Perkins finally left the ADS Peabody and McCandlish were dispatched on the same mission. Both arrived at the MDS without encountering any difficulty. Perkins would probably have been a half-hour behind them. Hobson was dispatched to the MDS shortly after Perkins. He was turned back about halfway by the appearance of a German column crossing his path perpendicularly and going West. At about the same hour and same time McCandlish, bound North to the ADS, was likewise turned back. Because of Perkins' having arrived at this spot shortly before this column was sighted by our men, there is strong possibility that his car was taken by the enemy column. There appear to be no witnesses to this action, however.

"In the afternoons it was reported that Perkins had not yet arrived at the MDS; thereupon Colonel Furkert and three of our cars traversed the track from MDS to ADS on a wide front, finding no signs of the missing ambulance or personnel.

"The only information gleaned from this source was that an ambulance was seen (censored) as part of this column and identified by the eagle symbol on the door. Since there were no other ambulances unaccounted for at this times it is probable that this car was number ---. No information at all was ascertained about driver or patients."

Signed D. Atwood 2/Lt. 15 Coy AFS

 

J. W. CRUDGINTON and W. L. NICHOLS of AFS Unit 1 have recently received a note from prisoner of war PETER GLENN, also of Unit 1. Glenn wrote them on 3 September:-

"Here we are again. Only 2 more months of 'sentence' for you, lucky beggars. Or are you in the army? If so, whose? For God's sake, men, pick a good regiment! New Zealanders tell of AFS work at Matruh, El Alamein--greet work. Write the news! Forward my mail (of course after Nic has read it all). Parmenter and Corke (10th Corps) are here with me. Rumors of others captured now in Benghazi in OR camp. Food stuff, books, desert shoes needed. Love."

P.G.T.G.

Glenn's address is:--

Peter C. T. Glenn
Lt. AFS 25
Internment Campo 21
Posta Militaire 3300
Italie

THE SLAP, SLAP of the painter's brush was music to my ears Here, after long last, was something tangible. An AFS club of Cairo was becoming a reality. Under the painter's hand the drab, drear walls were taking on life and color to form the background of the Club's living room.. In other rooms of the apartment more work was being done. The whole place was astir.

Satisfied, I turned to the window. Beyond the gardens of the English Cathedral flowed the chocolated Nile, and, beyond that, in the distance, I could just spy the twin tips of the great Pyramids.

My thoughts slipped back and for a few moments I was lost in memories. It did not seem so very long ago . . . April, 1917 . . . Paris in Spring time . . . soft sunlight flooding the terrace of 21 Rue Raynouard and from the garden below one sensed the smell of freshly turned mold. At one side of the garden a group of AFS men were pitching sous against the wall Beyond them was a foursome at bridge. Here and there, under the newly leafing trees, other groups wandered about the garden, lolled in chairs or on the grass, enjoying the warmth of the sun. Beyond the garden and the Seine the shaft of the famous Eiffel Tower reared its graceful form. Yea; that was the setting of 21 Rue Raynouard, AFS HQ. The center about which our lives revolved in World War I.

"Gardens, river, famous monuments, " I mused "Is it a coincidence ---perhaps a good omen --- that again a famous river laps at the doorstep of an AFS club, and world-famous monuments lend themselves to our surroundings?"

Slap, slap went the paint brush.

The energetic painter brought me to the present I turned away from the Pyramids, the Nile, and tropical gardens to face what is to be our living room. Yours and mine.

The AFS club of Cairo is situated diagonally opposite the English Cathedral (about ten minutes' walk from Shepheard's), on the third floor in the same block of buildings in which the new baggage over-night depot is located. It is quite a Club and worth all that we have put into it

To the left as one enters, is the library, a small cosy room. Adjoining it is a writing room. Passing along the hall, one comes to the foyer, from which doors lead to the office, the living room, the card room, and the living quarters are designed primarily for our convalescents. There should be room for about ten or so at a time. The charge for the night, with breakfast, will be nominal. The kitchen and pantry exist for serving a light breakfast and tea. It is not planned to provide other meals. The furnishings are simple yet comfortable.

Much credit for this goes to Mr. Paine and Mr. Sloane, who have worked extremely hard to produce an atmosphere of good taste that has been achieved. Mr. Paine's mural of a Zahle street scene is excellent, and extremely appropriate. Thank Harry Laiser for locating our quarters. Apartments are not easy to find in Cairo and are rare at the price we could afford.

Why an AFS club in Cairo? What is the obligation of the AFS to its men? In the last war it was nothing, and therefore everything. Times have changed, as I wrote Steve Galatti the. other day; and I emphasize again here the point that this is a new AFS. So it is. Cairo is not Paris; nor the Nile the Seine, the Pyramids, though famous, are not the Eiffel Tower. And yet somehow that makes sense, too, somehow, when you can walk up the steps of Shepheard's and meet your old French Commanding officer, all of these things seem to go together. And isn't it your dream and mine that someday, instead of the terrace of Shepheard's, it be the Café de la Paix and the sidewalks of Paris? As a relatively newcomer, I sense the difference between the old AFS and the new one as I have found it. Why an AFS club? Rather, why have we waited so long for one?

It is not the furniture and fixtures that make a Club, but people. Every AFS man past, present, or future is automatically a member of the AFS club of Cairo, and shall continue to be so long as his conduct makes him welcome there to his fellow members. In brief, it is hoped that because of the generosity of friends of the AFS at home you will find here a place to relax in congenial surroundings. If so then the $2,400.00 a year which will be devoted to maintaining this establishment will be indeed worth while.

The following simple rules for the management of the Club have been instituted:-

1. Membership in the Club is extended to all past and present AFS men, to their friends in the British, American, and Fighting French forces, and to all other fighting forces of the United Nations. Each member of the AFS is entitled to extend privileges of the Club to one friend at a time. British and French officers attached to the AFS will have full Club privileges.

2. Every AFS man on leave in Cairo should report to the Club: this automatically registers him with the HQ Personnel Department. Every AFS man on duty must report to HQ.

3. Every men is expected to do his part in seeing that the Club privileges extended to him and his friends are not abused.

4. Over-night accommodations, including breakfast, are reserved from noon to noon, on a day-to-day basis et 20 Pts. per day. Special rates can not be made. Residence at the Club is limited to two weeks. Preference in reservations will always be given to the convalescents.

5. Hours: Breakfast, 8-9 a.m. Tea, 4-5 p.m. Doors close at 1 a.m.

6. Residents will he expected to police their quarters before 10 a.m.

7. The Club is not responsible for personal effects, valuables, money, etc.

8. Tipping of Club servants is not permitted. The 10% system is used and will be explained by the manager-in-charge. Members are not permitted to enter the kitchen or pantry.

9. Books, stationary, and playing cards may be had upon application to the manager. The library and writing-room are reserved for their respective purposes so that they will not be used for visiting and general conversation. Card playing in the morning is not desirable, and will end by midnight, in order to secure quiet nights for any convalescents in residence.

10. Liquor and beer will not be served by the Club, but men may bring their own for private use to enjoy while playing cards or visiting friends. Drinking will be permitted between 12-2 p.m. and 8-11 p.m., and confined to the foyer, dining-room, and card room. The Club will provide glasses and water, but can not supply other set-ups. Each man availing himself of this privilege will deposit his bottle labeled with his name with the Club, and will be served from it by the servants.

11. Disorderly conduct or drunkenness will bar a man from use of the Club.

12. The AFS reserves the right to suspend membership for any reason.

13. Realizing that Abbassis barracks are far removed from the center of things and HQ, and also that there are a number of us to whom even the nominal rentals of certain service clubs are more than we can afford, the AFS is now able to offer free lodging's (in one's own bedding rolls, but on a comfortable spring cot) to a limit of thirty men at a time. Also at any time, a hot shower and toilet and shaving facilities. The accommodations, though in the raw, are still a step nearer civilization than "in the Blue". With cots worth $10 each and even the simple plumbing provided costing almost $1,500, we are sure you will appreciate that even these modest accommodations are to some extent a luxury. Just at the moment when it seemed hopeless for us to find the money to install showers, generous friends stepped into the breach and made it all a reality. In dignified circles it is called an overnight station, among ourselves, the "Flop House".

Later, mail and money and many facilities for servicing the men will be concentrated in the Club area.

The Club opened officially on December 26. It will stay open so long as its use and usefulness warrant. Those of us at HQ hope through its medium to meet with you all under conditions less harassing than are now possible in our limited quarters within the Perimeter.

If, twenty-five years from now, you can look back over the years to a memory which is centered about the AFS club in Cairo then indeed it will have served its purpose well.

Au revoir. See you at the Club.

No.4...In the card and game room, Acmed the Egyptian boy watches Wendel Nichols try to beat himself at solitaire.

No.6...In the lounge from left to right are: Roger Pierce, Charlie Miller, Mark Sloane and Charlie Hurd.

"The undersigned members of the AFS, in the sincere belief that they are expressing the opinion of the overwhelming majority of their fellows, hereby place on record their disappointment at the decision of the British Military authorities to limit the activities of the AFS to those of a Motor Ambulance convoy. They feel that such a limitation is not consistent either with the past history of the AFS or with the understanding of the present members who believed that they would participate in the work of advanced medical units. While realizing that the present heads of the AFS had no option but to accept the ruling of the British authorities in the present operations of the 8th Army, the undersigned members request that no further undertaking be made with either the British or any other force which does not give the AFS the right and privilege of serving in all branches of the Field Ambulance work. They feel that any such undertaking would be in fact a breach of trust between them and the AFS".

THE ABOVE PETITION was handed to Colonel Richmond on 13 December 1942. As I have been largely responsible for arranging the operations in the Field in the Middle East and have acted in a liaison capacity with the British Medical service, Colonel Richmond has suggested that I reply.

The petition is based on an inaccurate statement. The British Military authorities have made no decision at any time to "limit activities of the AFS to those of an MAC". AFS units, ever since they arrived in the Middle East, have served with all branches of Army Ambulance work, including several advanced medical units; they are still doing so; they will continue to do so. Therefore I will not deal with the petition in a formal way.

The petition, however, does give the expression to a thought which undoubtedly exists in the minds of many AFS men: that they are not doing just the sort of work they expected to do when they signed up for their war-work. This is by no means peculiar to AFS men. Everywhere you can hear ack-ack crews complaining there are no aircraft to shoot at, tank crews in England and America wishing they were infantry in an active battle zone, infantry in the battle zone wishing they were knitting socks at home, and knitters at home wishing they were flying bombers over Berlin Few persons seem to be entirely satisfied with their war-time job, and maybe that's not altogether a bad thing.

I have been approached frequently by AFS men complaining that the work they have been asked to do is insufficient, uninteresting, too remote from the fighting. These complaints have usually come from men new to war. Usually they have been motivated by curiosity to get into the fighting to see what it's like; doubtless they've had the feeling that only by being submitted to personal danger will they be able to give the full service which they came out here to gives This is a perfectly natural reaction and a good one.

It is a fact, however, that of the First and Second Unit men, who have served a year in the Middle East, all or very nearly all, have had the opportunity to satisfy their curiosity; and, more important, to feel the very sense of personal danger and accomplishment which comes from doing the job under enemy fire. Only a few still want to stick their necks out, but nearly all of them are willing to do any work required of them --- whether safe and boring, or dangerous and glorious.

In July, after the AFS had withdrawn from Tobruk to the El Alamein line, I issued a report giving particulars of the number of wounded carried and the miles driven. The report also showed that 10% of the AFS men operating in the desert had been killed, wounded, or captured, or damaged by enemy action. I repeat these figures in order to impress on recently arrived AFS men that they should not count on all battles in the future leaving the AFS as unscathed as has the present October-December offensive.

I am well aware that this record of previous experience will do little to relieve the minds of the signers of the petition as regards their own future work. I will try therefore to explain how the situation comes about that some men work in active positions while others may have to do routine work in the rear, and how this is not inconsistent with AFS tradition.

In France, 1914-18, there was an almost static front on which often (though by no means always) there was action; from the action a more or less continuous, though varying, number of casualties had to be evacuated. AFS cars in sections of twenty were attached to divisions. They collected wounded from the most forward postes de secours, and carried them back along the usual lines of evacuation to base hospitals. Then, as now, some of our men worked in forward positions; some to the rear; and some attached to inactive divisions, carried sick in the base areas. For AFS drivers eager to prove themselves, the static front had the advantage of offering a more or less permanent job. For men in the front-line trenches, this advantage was no doubt obscurer.

In that war the AFS established a reputation of going anywhere to pick up wounded whenever required by the army. In this way it differed from other civilian ambulance services, whose activities were confined to base areas. The tradition established then has been maintained; the tactics of ambulance work however, have changed. This change is perhaps the reason that present volunteers have received impressions from last-war AFS men which are not completely in line with the reality of today.

The present war, with the exception of some Russian sectors, offers no such static front, which can be cordially hated by the men on it while glamorized by those well away from it. The "front" nowadays is everywhere; it is sometimes quiet for months on end, sometimes deliriously active. There is no way of assuring that the AFS will go to a front which is active, and it is a matter of luck whether or not the active will come to it.

In France, in 1940, the AFS sometimes found itself many miles from the front line (which, for the most part, existed only in radio propaganda); yet it was no less in constant danger of being attacked by enemy Panzer units and Stukas. In point of fact, some AFS men were captured while evacuating wounded from hospitals in areas abandoned two days before by Allied troops. They were actually in front of the front. At the same time ambulance drivers in the forward positions of the southern sectors had no work to do.

In England, during the Blitz of '40-'41, the British armies sitting on the coasts, which were the front lines, were sometimes given leave; but London was out of bounds to certain of the best regiments because of being "too dangerous." The British armies are still sitting on the coasts, and American soldiers are sitting with them; they are undoubtedly getting more and more browned-off as one dreary day of inaction follows another. Yet during this period ambulance drivers in London, often civilians, get killed doing their base-area jobs. Think of Warsaw, Sedan, Dunkirk, London, Crete, Tobruk, Pearl Harbor, Stalingrad, El Alamein; and then think of the possible battles of the future.

There is one answer I ant trying to make to the petitioners' objection to our cars being limited to work not in the forward positions and hence unworthy of the AFS. Had the course of the recent desert battle been different --- if large enemy elements had been surrounded and had put up a determined resistance, supported by the Luftwaffe ---- the MAC work might well have provided all the excitement any one could desire. And we might have found our reserve of ambulances hard put to it to keep our MAC to full strength.

When the Middle East expedition of the AFS was originally planned, it was pointed out that in the British army ambulance cars functioned in three capacities. First, there are those in a Fd Amb or LFA, usually about eight cars to a unit. They come under the command of the Fd Amb and form a permanent part (normally) of the unit, for administrative purposes, the cars being charged to the unit and the men being attached to the unit for all purposes. Since it was desired to keep the AFS an entity --- and not have its members absorbed individually into the British army --- some other basis of organization was necessary. The second capacity in which ambulances function is the MAC. This is a complete unit, but it contains medical personnel. The possibility of obtaining trained medical personnel was considered for a time; it had to be discarded. The only unit remaining was the ACC. This is a more or less self-controlled transport unit. Because of size and administrative organization, the British considered it the most practical for us. The AFS drew the attention of the British to the effect that the volunteers did not wish to be confined to the rear areas, where ACCs usually operate; and it was clearly stated in the contract that as and when required the AFS cars might be used in forward areas.

When we first arrived, the British knew about us only that we were an untrained group of volunteers --- certainly not fit for an active front. We were given a short basic training and sent to Syria to take over routine work being done by an Australian transport company, to get ourselves properly organized, to show what we could do. (By this I do not mean that Syria was only a training ground: it is in a war zone, where many troops were stationed, and it would be wrong to assume that it will always remain inactive.) Two months later we had gained their confidence sufficiently that, when a new AFS group arrived to take over Syria, our first two units were moved to Tobruk to take the ACC run back to Bardia. This entailed fairly hard, rather dull, routine work. The work was enlivened with a few air raids, some tank battles and gunning a few miles away, an occasional dog-fight, and a parachute scare. During the period one section was attached to a divisional Fd Amb; one driver and one ambulance were lost from it. Late one night, I received orders that the road was out and we should be prepared to save what cars we could by filtering them through under cover of darkness. Following that, the battle improved for us and we got out safely in convoy. We got out safely because the British were able to maintain air superiority.

With its lines of communication shortened, 8th Army required fewer ambulances. The DDMS, after consultation with Colonel Richmond and myself, agreed to use our cars in small groups whenever they could best be used that way. Thirty per cent were lent to the NZ's to supplement their Fd Ambs; one section was lent to an armored div; some were posted to supplement an MAC; and some went to assist the French, who, at Bir Hacheim, had lost all of their ambulances and most of their drivers. At this time, certainly, the AFS functioned (as the petition suggests it should) in all branches of field ambulance work. Later, the AFS cars were called out of 8th Army in order to do all types of work, but during this period the AFS men went through a dreary stretch of heat, mosquito-bites, flies, dysentery, and frustration. Then later we were again attached to 8th Army, and had more work on and behind the relatively static Alamein line. The work varied from dull to exciting; in any event, it had to be done. And it was well done. This led to our attachment to 10th Corps to do MAC work during the push. In order to assure that the full number of cars would always be available for Corps MAC work, orders were issued that MAC cars would not be sent forward of MDS's or back of CCC's, except in cases of emergency.

Before the push we had asked that some of our cars (25%) be posted with Fd Ambs. The DDMS had pointed out that the MAC work would require nearly all our cars, but he had assured us that any surplus would be attached to Fd Ambs. This assurance was made good, and, contrary to the petition's statement, several sections of AFS cars have operated --- and at the time of writing are still operating --- with Fd Ambs.

I have tried to show that up to date in the Middle East we have had a fair share of all kinds of army ambulance work. I do not believe that there is any way of assuring that in the future we shall have more than that; nor do I believe that at present we would be justified in demanding it.

The Directors of the British army medical services are well aware of the character of the AFS. They know well the performance of our drivers and of the Dodge ambulances. They know well that if there is any difficult or dangerous work to be done, the AFS will always be willing to do it and will do it well. They know also that AFS volunteers dislike inactivity and that the morale of the AFS depends largely on giving it the sort of work which best suits it. They have been told these things by their own officers; and they themselves have observed these things.

I do not think there is any reason to doubt that, with this knowledge in their possession, they will use us how, when, and where we will most usefully fit into the war scheme.

And so to AFS men who are worried because the work they may be called upon to do is not exactly what they expect it to be, I say this. The time will probably come when you will find yourself looking into the barrel of a tommy-gun, or climbing out from the debris of a Stuka raid, or driving over a mine, or just hugging the ground while air-bursts scatter fragments around you; and at those moments, as you cannot fight back, you will draw your neck well in and promise yourself never to stick it out again. Of course, if you have to stick it out again you will, and the chances are if you stay around long enough you will have to many times.

There have been other man who have complained to me that life in the AFS is not what they expected it to be. Some of them maintain that there is too much work, not enough wine, women, song, and glamour. We have not yet received a petition about this, but if we do we shall have to concede sadly that war is not all it's sometimes cracked up to be.

Note

Since this was written an order has been issued which permits the MO to use AFS men and equipment as the needs demand. The AFS is, therefore, not limited to duty by location of MDS or CCS from now on, and will be used wherever in the opinion of the Medical officer its services can best be employed: from RAP to Base hospital.

D.M. Hinrichs

An unidentified AFS driver returning to his post was stopped by a Brigadier after, according to the Brigadier, a 60 mile an hour chase. He proceeded to take the driver to task for going at such high speed. When the Brigadier had finished, the AFS man replied in friendly fashions

"Okay, Brig," and started on.

The flabbergasted Brigadier continued ahead where he encountered s traffic accident necessitating an ambulance. Soon the AFS man appeared on the scene

"Hi ya, Brig, we meet again," he greeted the Brigadier.

What the Brigadier replied we cannot print.

Fred Meyers reported at an air field outside Cairo for much demanded air passage. In making his request he said he was an AFS man. The sergeant in charge told him he could leave the next morning. To make sure, Fred checked up later.

"Sure, you're okay," he was told. "I know how important it is for you Air Information Signals chaps to get back, so I am holding back someone else".

Fred explained, to the consternation of the sergeant, but flew anyway.

MESSAGES:

The inspiring work of Subsection Three, AFS, has more than any other single factor, served as a tremendous source of inspiration to the embattled Russian armies.

---Joseph Stalin

We in the Pacific area have watched with frank amazement the work of SS3, AFS. The success of the democracies is assured as such men serve them. By God, it was destiny that sent such men there. They never break the soldier faith. Attack, attack, attack.

--- Douglas MacArthur

Never in my lifetime of soldiering have I led such men. Through the shell-pocked cocktail lounge of Shepheard's and across the machine-gun swept roads of Syria they have surged forward, always forward, against all the devilish machinations of the Hun. Unfortunately, none of these brave lads were killed during the recent battle. But they should have been. I am confident they would have died gloriously, murmuring, "For God, For Country, and my Sponsor" Address all donations to Stephen Galatti, 60 Beaver Street, N.Y.

---Stuart Benson

Never have so many owed so much.

---Barclay's Bank

ON DECEMBER 30, 1942, AFS Middle East Unit II completed its period of enlistment. The following log of the unit is purposely brief to avoid unnecessary repetition of material which has already appeared in the NEWS BULLETIN:-

The following is not supposed to be good poetry. But can you do better? A prize has been offered for the best poem with the idea expressed below, or for the best improvements on this "poem.

" . . . The AFS NEWS BULLETIN is dedicated to our families and friends at home . . . "
---Vol. 1 No. 1

IN ASSUMING THE POSITION of editor of THE AFS NEWS BULLETIN we fully realize the responsibilities of the task before us. It is our hope, however, to continue bringing you news and information on the same high scale as in the past.

Problems confront this regime which were not faced in past issues. New men are arriving, veterans are leaving, and our field of operations has extended to over 2,500 miles. So we must make new contacts and go far afield for the news we present. As the BULLETIN boasts no staff other than the editor, there will undoubtedly be times when the foremost job of caring for the wounded will necessitate delays in publication: for material comes from the AFS drivers only when they find time to write. We would rather wait for good material to bring you the true picture of the work over here than to dash something together merely for the sake of putting out an issue.

In Vol. 1, No. 4 of the BULLETIN was printed the intention of having an editorial board to supervise publication. Upon reconsideration it was felt that such a board would not be compatible with the aim of having a news organ written, edited, and published by the men of the AFS as a group. So the BULLETIN will carry on as before---as a product of the .AFS in the Middle East and bearing the stamp of no one part. Printed above is the statement " . . . The AFS NEWS BULLETIN is dedicated to our families and friends at home . . . " but we are not forgetting the fact that is also a medium for the men over here to keep in contact with their colleagues in the various units. Relative to that we invite all men to contribute to the BULLETIN ---your BULLETIN---in the form of stories, poetry, personal experiences, humor, criticisms, and suggestions.

BOB DEAN CEASES TO BE attached to the BULLETIN with this issue. By the time you read these words he expects to be well on his way home. We thank Bob for his diligent and faithful work in starting the BULLETIN and paving the way for its future. We wish him the best of luck and bon voyage.

In a letter to HQ AFS, William Merrill of Unit IV writes, "Enclosed is a factual account of myself and ambulance with the FF artillery at the time of the October offensive. While it is not webbed with excitement and anguish, it is nevertheless a thread in the pattern of the whole front. I offer it on this basis for present and future records".

SEVERAL DAYS BEFORE the big push commencing the night of October 23/4 the Dodge and I were detached from the main group at the GSD and led out by our Colonel to the French artillery. Awaiting us beside the doctor and his staff were one dead native and one badly wounded in the thigh by shrapnel. A German plane was responsible. It struck while they were digging the guns in. I evacuated the blessé.

The next few days, each morning, I took the doctor on a tour of the various battery emplacements. Work was light and casualties nil. The guns were not within range on either side, and the enemy air force was more interested in objects to the North.

Finally, after a days postponement, we were ordered and ready to move at six p.m. the 23rd of October. The moon would be full and rise about seven.

Into the Dodge, beside myself and the doctor, went two native infirmiers, three paniers of medical supplies, personal kit, 350 empty sandbags, and the kit belonging to the padre. The terrain in the direction we were going was unknown, but where the batteries were placed at this time the sand was very bad---a heavy spongy top with light lower depths of several feet before rock. This, as a matter of fact, was the reason for the Dodge and my being where we were in preference to the Chevies and their young fire-eating drivers.

At six we picked up the Commandant's peep as a guide and set out at breakneck speed for the Dodge already weakened by 12,000 miles of previous hard work here and in Syria, plus a bent front spring.

We arrived et the battery and were told to follow the fourth unit.

Everything was in turmoil. The air full of the noise of churning engines and staccato cries of men as they exhorted each other to get the heavy equipment through the sand. We ourselves had already been ensablé once. After that I redistributed the weight by placing the two natives on the front fenders. It helped the traction of the front wheels and provided a lookout for bad areas and mine fields.

We had been in a southern sector of the El Alamein line.. Our objective, we learned when we arrived, was only about three miles directly East. The journey was not long in distance, but over sand it could take a fantastically long time. As a matter of fact we arrived, as I remember, sometime between midnight and one o'clock. The adjoining British batteries were already firing when we arrived, and farther to the North there was an incessant rumble and cr-u-m-p-p, cr-u-m-p-p of tank fire, red against the horizon. Every one kept muttering, "attaque générale" and contributing their share to a ghostly tense atmosphere.

Somehow the doctor managed to find a place for our poste de secours. There was a friendly rim of hills on the south of our batteries, but it was too far from the third and fourth emplacements. Therefore there was no choice but a very shallow saucer. We must provide our own protection from the earth. And we did by working until five, digging and filling sand bags. And is that work! I don't know whether it is harder to dig and fill than it is to hold and pile those heavy bags. Sleep is fitful. The sound of our guns was still strange to me.

There we were and there we sat for several days. The Germans had a marvelous advantage in situation. It was like looking from well up the Empire State building down on Altman's. But their record was not good. The first day they tried planes. Not many---a brace, three or four times. But they didn't like the ack-ack from the Fusiliers Marins. Although some tried to come in very low, drop their stuff, and duck over the escarpment south. Because they were so low the bombs usually landed on their sides and slithered wildly along the ground without exploding. I, being a novice, was sure they were time bombs and that we would be blown to bits a bit at a time.

As the British further North were doing their work so effectively, our air visitors became less and less. Then by that time the enemy had our positions and response to our barrage became more insistent. But they were wonderfully inaccurate. The whole was dotted with guns and vehicles. Ammunition convoys were wandering all about, leaving depots only partially dug in; yet we had no casualty serious enough to evacuate. This was among the French and my concern. The British had less luck.

At this location the only patient I carried was an Italian prisoner. And how glad the doctor was to see him. He had been ready so long to do his job with no customers that the Italian got the full benefit of his pent-up energy. The slug had entered the inside groin and penetrated outward and upward. Lacking complications and with the prompt attention he got, he should be convalescing now.

Lastly we ate with the Fourth Battery where the sergeant, a former chemist with Coty, did the honors as chef du cuisine. And what food he dished up over the open fire. The flare for good living once engrained isn't easily restrained. There the guns were about ten yards away and I wished I, too, had had cotton for my ears.

Someday when the histories are written I would like to know what we hit with our guns. Anyway they must have contributed to the "attaque générale" because the situation in the South was all clear.

In the long sweep into the desert in an attempt to cut off the retreating German army at El Agheila, one platoon of AFS ambulances was engaged in frontline work over territory unsuited for regular ambulances. What happens when an ambulance convoy moving over the unmarked desert misses connections is related under the double meaning title:--

WE HAVE ALL BEEN IN A HURRY lately, and Jerry is definitely inclined. He has been running so fast that everyone is having a devil of a time keeping up with our own advanced forces. On December 14, however, the picture changed. An LFA (light field ambulance) and sections of Platoon II of the 15 AFS company caught up with the enemy.

On the move for a week solid and moving fast we were naturally in a state of confusion which may account for our little blunder. The Colonel in command of our convoy left us at noon on the 14th to go ahead and find a location to set up our dressing station. The AFS was in tow to evacuate expected casualties. We continued on the desert track all afternoon, still going westward somewhere near Agheila.

The Major of our LFA decided that something was amiss around 4:30 p.m. and made enquiries et an armored-car camp. He was told that if we turned and into the desert we would find our spot. So we turned north and continued. The leading car finally stopped on a ridge and to our surprise we found we had reached the coast, and the bright blue of the Mediterranean was a tonic to our eyes after weeks of drab and dusty desert. Lieut. Jim Ullman of our group brought us the cheering news that we were lost, and that after a light meal we would continue on. I parked my car next to Jim's platoon truck and Sgt. "Chuck" O'Neil and I piled out to look the situation over. Peter Brooks and Lee Ault dispersed their ambulances on the ridge and "Babe" Lund, Pieter Van der Vliet, Bill Schorger, Tom Smith, Charlie Bachman, Howie Weisberg, Gene McVoy and the others, dispersed south of the ridge around the platoon truck.

Chuck, Jim, Merrill Johnson, Carleton Richmond, and myself stood around the platoon truck smoking and discussing the predicament we were in. It was very peaceful day, and there wasn't a soul in sight, nor a plane in the sky. We could make out the outlines of a town on the coast approximately five miles west of us.

Suddenly the quiet of the afternoon man disturbed by an explosion a few miles to the west. O'Neil stopped in the middle of a sentence and for a moment it was a shrill whistle and we dropped like tall grass under a scythe. The shell burst a mile or more south of us near the heavily travelled road we had recently turned from. We all felt rather foolish, but decided slit-trenches were in order. Carleton took our only shovel and commenced, while the remaining three kidded him about being nervous. The hole was almost finished when we heard another explosion, then that eerie whistle. I dove for the ground, Jim dove for the ground. Chuck dove for Carleton's slit-trench, and Carleton under an ambulance. That one was closer, but not near enough to give us the impression that we were the target. We all laughed over O'Neil diving into Carleton's slit-trench right under Carleton's nose; then we went to supper at the cook truck.

We noticed that some of the "Tommies" from the LFA were wearing tin hats and we were all a little jumpy, but not seriously worried. After supper we dug slit-trenches near our cars and sat down to await moving orders from our Major. I remarked to Chuck that his slit-trench didn't look long enough, at which he scoffed. Two seconds later we were all in our little holes in the ground ---that is all but Chuck's feet.

The fun really began at this point. In patterns of three, 88 mm shells came over us with a whistle that caused you to feel as if an icy hand had been placed on your back. They put one about 100 yards north of us toward the sea, then one about 100 yards south. As we waited for the third, I sang the first line of "Give my regards to Broadway" and Jim Ullman added "and say hello to Herald Square". Then we heard the whistle. I ducked and it went over my head. After it had exploded, I found that my face was flat in the sand with a cigarette in my mouth. As I was lighting another cigarette Jim got out of his trench, dusted himself off and started for the Major's staff car. I heard another one coming and yelled to Jim then ducked. That one had been the closest yet. Shell fragments whistled past our heads and the concussion of the shell hitting caused the sides of my trench to crumble somewhat. I don't know how he made it, but Jim get back in his own hole in the ground safely.

In this pattern, the second shell landed 15 yards from Lee Ault's car, but he had dug his trench some distance away and was all right. The third landed on the other side of us. By that time we were beginning to realize that we were the target. Jim said, "I've had enough of this," --dusted himself off for the second time and started for the Major's car. Several seconds later he made another swan dive into his trench as the salvo whined over our heads. We then received orders to start our cars and Jim walked on ahead of us. Chuck O'Neil was singing

"The shells whistle over by daylight
When Jerry starts to play;
We spend all our time in the slit-trench,
Oh please take those Jerries away,"

to the tune of "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean."

All of the British trucks had started to move at that moment so Chuck jumped on my running board and we started a hasty retreat. Jim jumped on the other aide and began throwing the various pieces of my mess tin through the window as we bumped over the desert at 30 m.p.h. It had been on the fender of the ambulance. I had a hell of a time driving, ducking plates, and trying to keep my head below the dashboard all at the same time. We must have looked vaguely like a wild-west show; trucks, staff cars, radio car, ambulances all tearing eastward across "The Blue", spread out over half a mile or more.

We stopped after a mile and a half to count noses, and found we were missing one ambulance. As all of us were trying to screw up enough courage to volunteer to go back to look for it, it showed up. It was Jack Lund. He had turned around half way through our mad flight to take the Major back. One of the staff cars had broken down. Jack and the Major went back into the shell-fire, chained the car to Jack's ambulance and towed it out. The Major spoke very highly of Jack later that night.

At this moment the Colonel in command arrived and we reformed our convoy, with the AFS bringing up the rear.. We then moved 12 miles back to the spot where we should have been in the first place. There was not one casualty out of the entire affair, and the only vehicle damaged was the radio truck which had been hit by a few shell fragments. We found out the next day that the town we had seen was Agheila, and that the Eighth Army had by-passed an enemy artillery pocket in its hurry to get at the main body of Germans. Two days later one of our ambulances carried an officer with a bad arm wound received in wiping out the pocket. He received special attention---.

FUNNY HOW YOU ALWAYS think of sand when you picture yourself leisurely lolling around in the hot, summer sun at the seashore. Sand, you say, is something soft in which to lie, wiggle your toes, and let some little kid cover you up. Or something in which to make forts and castles. In other words you PLAY in the sand and enjoy it---unless you're like my brother. He hates sand. THE DAMNED STUFF GETS IN HIS HAIR! Now in the short space of two swift, sultry months you find yourself having been through enough sand for the rest of your life and the lives of all your great-great-grandchildren put together. Your conception of it has changed. Whenever it's mentioned now, you recall terrific heat in the desert, sand storms blowing the stuff into everything---your food, clothes, eyes, lungs ---not to mention, like my brother, your hair. You'll admit that there are times, few unfortunately, when this desert has its attractions. If the night chances to be quiet and there is a moon (a rare combination, indeed) you see a beautiful picture. Dunes, silhouettes, stars, and all that. But it is also dotted with the equipment of war. This is not the picture you saw at the "shore" where shovels and pails and a profusion of beach chairs cluttered up that sand. Nor is it the same shovel that covers bodies out here. The pail has changed into a water bottle to be carefully dealt out and not to be spilled. Instead of play forts you dig slit-trenches into which you wriggle your whole body ---not just your toes This is desert sand.

Having just returned from the Western Desert where we learned the ins and outs of the work of the AFS through the eyes of 15 Company headquarters, we are passing on the story of the work done in:--

UNDER THE CANOPY OF THE CANVAS cover of a three-ton lorry, 15 AFS company headquarters, Coy HQ is the outpost and nerve center for the men in the field with the Cairo office and those at home. It is to Coy HQ that the orders come and mail comes; it's in Coy HQ that news of the different sections is learned, and in connection with Coy HQ is the company canteen where the scarce and yearned-for cigarettes, chocolate, and liquor can be obtained.

The personnel at the "office" of 15 Coy is Capt; Art Howe, O.C., Lieut Charles Snead, adjutant, Coy Sgt. Pat Fiero (who is also barber in his spare time), Coy Clerk Jake Vollrath, and Canteen Manager Harry Blackwell. Each has his respective duties to keep the company functioning and contributes generously to the never-ending amount of paper work required for the records. Lieut. Snead is adjutant, with his Willys "Peep", makes frequent "recce" trips out into "The Blue" to see how the boys are getting along and to take their mail to them. Pat is more or less the spokesman for Capt. Howe on routine matters necessary for keeping the company functioning smoothly. And when there are sections moving up with HQ Pat is the traffic cop who guides the ambulances into the proper dispersal areas. He also supervises the routine work in the office.

With daily strength reports to be made out each morning, semi- and monthly reports to do on patients carried and miles travelled by each ambulance, and making changes when a man is transferred, goes sick, or is promoted, Jake manages to keep his hands full. Harry, operating from the back end of a 15-cwt truck loaded with canteen supplies tries to keep the boys happy by anticipating their wants and attempting to find the best bargains when and if he is able to track down a bulk NAFFI supplying canteen goods.

As is so often the case, the boys in the office don't work too hard. But their work has the sameness about it from day to day that makes it difficult to refrain from chucking it and going out in an ambulance where the action can be found. In the three months I was with the company on only two occasions could I say we really had any excitement around HQ. Once on the Alamein line a single Jerry plane dropped a bomb over us intended for the railroad a quarter of a mile away. We had to hit the dust. Again near Marble Arch Jerry tried to bomb the airport five miles from us.He prompted a noisy show from the ack-ack and drove us into slit-trenches, but otherwise he didn't accomplish anything. You see HQ isn't right up where the fighting is. As a general rule it's back about 15 miles from the nearest actual battles. Not infrequently, however, it is located in the vicinity of some important objective. But it is usually attached to some medical unit and thereby HQ is under what protection the Red Cross affords so that it is comparatively safe.

When we started into the desert we nearly always had 20 ambulances with us because we were working with a CCS that was evacuating patients farther down the line It wasn't a bad life then. We were far enough back to escape serious water rationing and once we were located, we were set for days and sometimes several weeks. But when Jerry foiled the hard-pushing Eighth Army at Agheila by not stopping to fight, we were left without an ambulance except those in workshops. All the rest were out on the chase. Ordinarily we had a battery of cooks to feed our men. When they go off to work with outlying units they mess where they are so we found ourselves with almost a cook per man. At meals it felt like you had planned a big party---only no one had come. It was a pretty lonely feeling sometimes when all the gang was out. You didn't admit it openly, but you envied them with all the excitement of being under fire and carrying those chaps who had been wounded going against Jerry. The drivers, you felt, were really accomplishing something. But on the other hand your work was necessary and it had its bright moments.

At night you sat in the office and read books or wrote letters. Sometimes you played cards or had a "brew-up" of cocoa. Then you went to bed in your dug-in bivvy regretting your not having a heater like the ambulances, but snug and permanent just the same. Often you could look back on the day remembering that George or Joe had been in---sometimes you hadn't seen them for a week--- then there was always the little heart-flip you got at opening the "secret" messages that came in by dispatch-rider. Or you would have the satisfied feeling of superiority at being able to send a "rocket" at the O.C.'s dictation to some section or some HQ bawling the devil out of them for bawlicksing up some detail. After a while the desert gets you that way. Knowing that somebody is going to feel uncomfortable and that you are having a hand in it lessens your uncomfortableness.

Speaking of those tedious days of sameness, the officers in HQ get plenty fed up with censoring the mail. When time is on their hands in the field the boys write millions of letters it seems ---most of them to girl friends, probably, since their families don't seem to hear from them. Then along comes a rush or a series of moves and there is no chance to censor the mail. Eventually Pat, who is also postal clerk (because he collects stamps) chucks the mail on the table and caustically reminds those concerned that the mail has to go out. Then come hours of reading the same sort of letters.

The reports are the bane of the clerk's life. Especially on the first and fifteenth of the month; it is then that most of them are due. You know what has to he done, the figures that are necessary and the information that must be obtained. But getting the facts is something else. You remind the O.C. and he orders the machinery set in motion. Vehicle numbers --four numbers for 70 vehicles each month, reports from sections twice a month, summary reports and special reports, vehicle disposition reports--- and all with three or more carbon copies .... How can you et it all done? Some sections you don't hear from for days. Corps headquarters doesn't know where the units are because they move faster than communication. One of our drivers was out of touch with HQ for three weeks before we could get through to him even by radio. And then when you do get the information---"patients carried and miles travelled during the last 15 days"---it is s week or more after the report was due and the "rockets" begin coming in asking where is the report due on the 15th? And so it goes.

There is a war going on you are told and read. Sometimes you wonder. Soon enough you are sure of it again. It seems so remote from your seat at the typewriter. Then comes a movement order and you are off to a new location. You are passing over the territory the rest of the gang has been working the days gone by. You see the wreckage of vehicles and planes, the graves, the mines piled along the road. You say, "It must have been hell through here," and then you get the feeling---what good am I doing in all of this? Here I am snug in the back of the fighting riding in a staff car when the others had to inch their way over desert tracks with wounded; there's one chance in a hundred of getting straffed, and as long as we're on the road we won't hit a mine because they were taken out a week ago...we're safe because someone else who is really fighting the war has made it safe.

Bitterness comes for a moment But somebody has to do the job in Coy HQ; you've been assigned to it and it must count or you wouldn't get "rockets" for late reports.

WHEN THE AXIS FORCES were just a step ahead of the Eighth Army it wasn't unusual for AFS drivers to go into towns with the first advancing troops. Such was the case with John Carotenuto who was one of the first into a coast town just evacuated by the Italians. Many prisoners had been captured and one of them struck John's attention. After exchanging a few words in Italian John discovered the prisoner to be one of his cousins from Italy.

ISSUE CIGARETTES HAVE received some severe words for their quality but they are smoked just the same. Kenneth Stevens nearly gave up smoking, however, when upon opening a package a desert lizard popped out.

It had been placed in the cigarette box for safe-keeping by collector John Huntington.

AFS News Bulletin, No. 6

Index