UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN, LAWRENCE. KANSAS
PAGE SIX
TUESDAY, APRIL 20, 1943
So-Called 'Red Menace' Is False Threat Used By German Propagandists on U.S.
Communists are trouble-makers; they want the government to own everything, and they want to own the government; they are Godless and violent, so they are a menace. Since they have a red flag, wear red, baggy trousers, and are called "reds", they are a "Red Menace." Who are they a menace to? Why, to Europe, of course, and to everybody. How are they a menace? Why, they're going to drive the Germans right up to Berlin, and, then, instead of going back home, they're going to camp all over Europe. When is all this going to happen? Why, right away, if the United States and Great Britain don't end this war and let Germany hold them back.
This is what Herr Joseph Goebbels, Germany's propaganda minister, wants Americans and British to believe. Though his warnings are more adroitly worded; they are actually no more ingenious than this. The fact that the "Red Menace" actually is a potent threat has been made shamefully apparent by editorial echoing of Herr Goebbels in this country.
Communist Russia is allied with the United States and Britain in a war to halt German aggression and is driving from her own soil an army which actually is "camped all over Europe." This should be sufficient to silence her antagonists. Is the term "ally" merely an expedient?
Communists have never attempted to overthrow this government or that of Great Britain. Their power in this country is relatively slight as is evidenced by their complete lack of representation in Congress and the decisive defeats administered their perennial candidate for president, Earl Browder. It is only of late that their strength has assumed more than minor importance in Great Britain, where their growing power is attributed to the service they have rendered in this war.
Russia wants to become great through the peaceful exploitation of her own economic resources, not through conquest of those of other nations—she does not need them. But this cannot be accomplished until she has destroyed the menace which has disrupted this industrialization program for over two years, the "German Menace," which is the menace her allies should be worrying about, instead of listening to the rantings of alarmists—particularly when the chief alarmist is a German!—P.J.
Then there is the threat that the Red Army may "camp all over Europe." This is not feasible, for the simple reason that Russia needs all her manpower to develop the vast resources of her own country, a process which has been interrupted by two wars. The Red Army is not the imperialistic sword-juggling army of the czar; neither is it a group of professional soldiers as the backbone of the German army. It is a group of workers which was forced to fight and had to learn war strategy the hard way through the experience of the first Russian campaign. These men were not trained for war but for industry. The Russian army of occupation, which Herr Goebbels warns its allies against, is primarily an army of industrial occupation.
Just Wondering
How many students know there is a penalty for picking flowers on the University campus.
American Youth Do Not Give Up In Final Stages of Any Task
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With only approximately three weeks left, the end of an uncertain, confused, and troubled school year is rapidly drawing near. From the middle of last September until now, the future of many students has been only a question mark shadowed by doubts and fears of what tomorrow might bring. Men students have been afraid to make plans, and those few who have made them have often seen their ideas crumble as their school days have been substituted by militarv service.
Many of the remaining students know that at the end of school they will be called for duty, and an attitude that is easy to adopt for the last few weeks seems to be "What's the use? Another three weeks and it won't make any difference whether I studied or not," is the common attitude. So lessons are neglected, duties are slighted, and students sit with folded hands waiting for the next three weeks to go by.
It is easy to see how this pattern of thought might be adopted after a student has worked toward that job he wants, and now at the last minute sees it swept aside as he goes out to fight. But where will this attitude get him? Where will such an attitude get anyone?
By your deeds today, are your actions of tomorrow determined. Would any American youth give up his part in a battle three weeks before it was over? It isn't the American spirit to give up no matter what the task may be—a job, school, athletic sport, or war. It's a fight to the finish—not just to the last three weeks.
It isn't for the benefit of the school that students are urged to keep on with their work and to put forth their best efforts. It is the student's record that will be affected by these last few weeks, and that record will not be changeable once it is made. So stick with your work, do your part, and when you leave be able to say, "I did my best—through the very last day."
UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN
Student Paper of
THE UNIVERSITY OF KANSAS
Lawrence, Kansas
EDITORIAL STAFF
Editor-in-Chief ... Virginia Tieman
Editorial Associates ... Don Keown, Jimmy
Cump, Maurice Barker
NEWS STAFF
Managing Editor ... Joy Miller
Sunday editor ... Bill Hauge
By MARY MORRILL
Ye old time religion: When Phi Bet initiation duties were passed out last Saturday night, Boydon Crouch, medic pledge, found himself charged with the task of holding a revival meeting in Johnny's.
Crouch spoke convincingly on the evils of liquor and tobacco, and at least half of his largely sailor audience didn't catch the satire of it all.
After 15 minutes, tears were in the eyes of the bluejackets who "hadn't written their poor old mothers," and the walls of the place rang with the Hallelujah Chorus.
Pass the bottle: Harry Jennison alone, another Phi Bet initiate, considered the revival unsuccessful. Jennison, as the example of what never touching even tea and coffee will do for one, angelically passed the hat.
He didn't even collect enough for a tall beer.
If she knew she probably wouldn't even go: This is verified Phi Delt chatter before a recent steak fry. Three of the boys were getting ready. "I'm gonna wear jeans. What're you gonna wear?" "I'm gonna wear jeans, too." "You are! Well, gosh! What'll Jean wear?"
Wherefore Art Thou, Romco: Max Wymore, Battenfeld, was visiting a cadet friend at the TKE house when some official-looking person blew in and announced—for a reason that seemed logical enough—that everybody in the house was quarantined for spinal meningitis.
Not quite having time to be locked up for two weeks, Wymore sought refuge with the aid of his friend in a dark, dusty, and mouse-infested attic closet.
A guard had been put on both doors, he was informed, so it would be necessary to get air from outside via a small window. His friend promised to call Battenfeld and request a posse and a ladder.
Wymore stayed in the closet for two hours at the end of which time—judging from the purplish hue of his face—the possibility of asphyxiation was much too concrete a thing to joke with. So the cadets told Wymore maybe if he was careful he could sneak out the back way without being shot dead.
A minute after this announcement, Wymore, halfway up the hill, ran into four Battenfeld boys struggling down with a huge ladder.
Cadets consider the joke 100% successful.
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*****
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Overheard in the Kappa house: Freshman to Francis Morrill: "Somebody told me there are eight fraternity pins kept secretly in this house. Who do you suppose has them?"
Francie: "Gosh, I don't know. I don't have eight pins!"
Der Fuehrer Turns 54 Vot's It To You?
BY BETTY LOU PERKINS
This occurrence might have taken place today . . . stranger things have happened!
"It's the twentieth of April!" barked the editor of the Kansan. "You know what that means," she growled, turning to a reporter. "Get on it! I want an interview—pictures—personal story. No excuses—get it! If you don't," she leaned forward cruelly, I'll see to it that you're made managing editor of this But get this story or paper next year."
Until this last threat, the affable reporter had been chewing calmly on a piece of gum (from a friend in the army, no doubt) and leaning languidly back in his chair as the editor raged. At the last remark flung at him, however, the reporter leaped to his feet. "School Be Damned"
"You can't do that!" he squeaked, his throat suddenly dry. "Td planned to go to school here next year."
The editor paused, put one hand on the desk, the other on her hip, and frowned intently at the reporter.
"School be damned!" she shouted.
All Exits Are Barred
The reporter glanced about desperately, but all exits were barred. Other reporters with derisively grinning faces surrounded him. He swallowed painfully.
"All right," he moaned, pointing a shaking finger at the editor. "I'll do it, but if I return without a story well---" He could not continue and sank unconsciously back in his chair.
The editor watched him a moment "Action!" she roared. "Action, or you're a dead duck!"
He would have preferred that ...
The reporter walked from his
(continued to page seven)