NAVAL TRAINING SCHOOL

Tra la, tra la another day and another fifty cents lost on the drill field--maybe your columnist should go back to matching dimes instead of quarters, but dimes seem like kid stuff after being in the Navy for six months.

After that spicey introduction it might be worth while to inform you that this column will once again appear irregularly in the HARVARD SERVICE NEWS. No less a personage than a two-striper begged your columnist to take a few moments off from his studies in order to resume his contributions. The dignitary in question emphasized the importance of keeping a column in the NEWS for any necessary announcements that need wide publicity. He must think somebody reads this tripe. The only announcement for today is that cokes and apples will be served in Morris D-14 tonight at 10 o'clock sharp. Beware of flying coke bottles when you enter--we have a little game we play modeled afted the Army one of machine gun bullets at 30 inches, Slightly dangerous, but fun.

Exams, Too

This is the last week of disbursing afloat and nobody is sure whether to shout for joy or join the Army. Our final exam will be laid out on the table for us on Saturday morning, and right now we are trying to think of some way to get ahold of an advance copy. Theories as to its nature are broached by almost everyone out of their subconscious desires for something suitable to their amount of acquired knowledge. Some of us are thinking of getting Eddie Rickenbacker in to pray for us.

Nothing could be more disconcerting to our study habits than to watch the seniors packing their gear, preparatory to their happy exit. It wouldn't be so hard to take if they wouldn't whistle and sing while packing; they seem to forget that we are sensitive human beings and must stick around for another two months. However, they've been damn swell to us and we wish them the best of luck.

Hl, Babe!

To skip for a moment to the affairs that really matter, my roommates and myself would like to request, somewhat wist fully, that student officers with pretty wives would declare the sidewalk in front of Morris Hall out of bounds. It seems that many of these officers allow their women folk to wait for them in front of our window and it is rather disconcerting to serious minded students to see so many well turned ankles gambolling around in front of them. Pulling the shades doesn't work because Rusty Mueller simply can't stand to have the shades down when he knows women are out there. The only solution is for these officers to ask their wives, in a spirit of cooperation, to wait elsewhere or wear black woolen stockings.