THE BLUE BONNET
Everybody on the set, please. . . .
we'll shoot this sequence now. Where
the devil is that script boy ? Call the
electrician . . .Call somebody, anybody, before I loose control . . . Excited? Excited! Who said I was EXCITED!!**!! Alright now, everybody
ready! Lights! Camera! Sound!
The first scene is taken in a downpour of rain. Picture a navy motor
launch creeping thru a welter of water, returning it's early morning load
of Golden Grainers and sundry stay-
out-all-nighters to the ship. As it
bumps to a landing alongside the
gangway, men streaming with moisture jostle for first place up the ladder. Some have rain clothes, some
not, all are wringing wet. As the
crowded boat thins out a strange thing
is seen . . . What can that be? Is
there a lady in the boat at this unusual
hour? The mysterious person jumps
for the first step and it isn't a woman;
it's a man in a ladies pale blue rain
cape! Despite the heavy rain several
stop on deck to laugh loud and long;
for the MAN wearing the lovely creation is Yelverton, Captain's Yeoman!
He has been incommunicado ever
Three cheers! From all hands comes
three lusty, hearty cheers as our good
friend and Shipmate, Pay Clerk D. E.
Pay, leaves the HOUSTON for the
last time. Nay, nay! my heckling
critics . . . Those hurrahs are not because we're glad to see him go . . .
just our way of paying tribute and
giving a send-off to a fine officer and
real gentleman. For twenty-two
months Mister Fay, in his quiet, unobtrusive manner skippered the Supply Office in such a way as to gain the
friendship and admiration of all who
contacted him. Ever smiling and glad
to be helpful however rough the going; is a candid camera shot of this
officer who, we predict, will go far in
his chosen profession. On February
5th, his orders came for transfer to
the Supply Corps, Asiatic Fleet. He
and Mrs. Fay are delighted with the
prospect of a pleasant sea voyage via
the S. S. President Adams, sailing
from Los Angeles enroute Manila, on
the 23rd of this month. Again we
wish them good fortune, and add:
Don't take any brass "clakkers."
The following excerpts are from a
letter delivered to the editor for indirect transmission to: Mr. "Bunny
Duck" Rock, Fireman, "A" Division.
Dearest "Popsie": "Sugar" still loves
her bald-headed "Daddy". Does oo'
still love your own little "Tootsie
Roll?" This's absolutely the last
straw! That this feature should sink
so low as to become a "Lovelorn" column . . . Well—it just isn't! Hereafter, the gentleman who lacks hirsute
adornment and resorts to banana
shampoos as a last resort, (Bulla
helped)—is strongly advised to take
care of his own love affairs. No third
party parts for us!
Week's Best Story: A Two Act
Playlet—Act One takes place in a cafe
where Hubbard, Chief Turret Captain, who guides the destiny of Turret One, has embibed too well and not
wisely. Second Act Curtain! Scene:
Cosy living room in apartment—Hubbard reclines on couch, weary from
the evening's excitement. A charming young lady sits and chats as our
hero's head nods—and then—his eyes
close; he's asleep! Quickly she climbs
to the seat of a chair . . . What on
earth is she doing? With rapt expression and elaborate gestures she
begins to read the old familiar lines:
"Romeo, my Romeo! Wherefore art
thou . . ." "Romeo" really wasn't
asleep though . . . Imagine the Chief's
amazement and mental confusion
when he found he was too shaken to
get up and put a stop to the "playacting". It went on and on . . .
A late report gives this startling
information: Borghettii big-money-
man of the "F", finally came out on
the winning end of a bet. John Goss,
the "M" Division's big Little Boy was
the contributor of a "fin". How did
the Fire Controlman know Louis
wouldn't serve a K. O. to Pastor?
Maybe experience is a good teacher ..
Picture: Dale Hubbard, eccentric
trombonist in the COMSCOFOR Band,
on his hands and knees in front of his
music stand, instrument and case lying forgotten beside him. By all that's
peculiar! What is he up to? Answer: Reading an old newspaper that
happened to be spread on deck under
his feet where he was practicing.
"S.mitty" and his crew of "3rd" Division buccaneers were out bright and
early last Sunday morning finishing
up leftover paintwork. Guess it's the
"Simon Legree" in him . . .
Yelverton again! Get off the set
Greedy! Trying to hog the whole
show? Oh! What's the use . . . Anyhow, at long last he's to don the anxiously anticipated "buttons" on the
thirteenth. They'll look good on that
ladies raincoat! The CPO Quarters
is humming with lavish plans for the
Yeoman's initiation into the sacred
Order of Hack Drivers.
A bit on the serious side: Thanks
to our Captain for the much needed
writing room. When finished the
eight chair space with it's substantial furniture is not only going to look
nice, it will be appreciated and put to
excellent use. There'll be no reasonable excuse then for neglecting that
letter to the home folks. . . Don't forget! Send the "Bonnet" home. . .
Extra copies always available in the
Recreation Compartment. Box on forward bulkhead. . . Innumerable suggestions have been received concerning the possibility of giving a
Ship's Dance soon after returning
from San Diego. A good old Houston
shindig is about due; how about it
gang? Remember the swell times of
From The Grab Bag: Durant, the
"A's" ex-speed king takes the award
for nonchalance. Stepping from an
automobile that had just sliced a
lamp post off at it's base, he sighted
a pert little thing in chic street costume. Without a backward glance at
the demolished car he remarked:
"Gosh! Ain't she pretty?" Lottman of
the Ice House is another lad smitten
with L. A. scenery. His habitual smile
indicates love, or is it just the scenery.
CUT! Everybody off the set. . .
until next week. So Long!