Coral Gables Riviera

CORAL GABLES RIVIERA

AN INDEPENDENT COMMUNITY NEWSPAPER Published every Friday by the Miami Riviera Publishing Co., 306 Coral Way, Coral Gables, Florida Established January, 1926 Combined with the Dade County and Coconut Grove Times, 1929. ALBERT E. HARUM President and Publisher JAMES B. MOORE Managing Editor Charles S. Leyden Advertising Manager Gertrude Hardeman Circulation Manager Helen Reynolds Society Editor Edythe Farley Credit Manager Mailing Address, P. O. Box 704 Telephone 4-1634 Member, Florida Press Association National Editorial Association Represented in the National Advertising Field by the American Press Association, New York City SUBSCRIPTION RATES Six Months $1.25 One Year $2.00 Out of Town $3.00 Entered as second class matter May 21, 1926, at the Postoffice at Miami, Florida, under Act of March 3, 1879.

Don't Be Cruel

Every year about this time, acts of unspeakable cruelty are committed throughout the Miami area. It's hard to believe, but many families going North for the summer abandon their pets and leave them to shift for themselves. Used to the comforts of a home and master, they often starve if they are not rescued. It's hardly understandable why people want pets at all, if they intend to leave them when their Florida sojourn is ended. Perhaps it's thoughtlessness, but it's true. Fortunately, we have an organization in Greater Miami that does its utmost to see that these unfortunate animals are rescued, given care, and, if possible placed in homes where they are wanted. During 1941, the Humane Society handled 12,611 cases of various types. The society is doing a wonderful work and deserves the financial support of all who love animals. But why not lighten its task? If you are going North, don't leave your pet behind to starve. If you can't place it in a home yourself call the society. They will take your pet and see that it does not suffer. Don't be cruel. There's too much cruelty in the world today.

An Idea for Mothers

In the weekly column "Calling Drafted Mothers," there is imbedded an idea—a seed that should find nurture and fertile ground in Coral Gables. It is an idea for an organization of the mothers of men in the services, held together by the common bond of the most precious thing on earth to them—their sons. The possibilities of such an organization are enormous. It could readily develop into a national organization eclipsing in importance many of today's clubs and sisterhoods. Because the author of the idea is a Coral Gables mother, this community seems the natural point from which the movement should start. Think it over, "Drafted Mothers."

Welcome to Riviera

The staff of the Riviera this week is augmented by one—Mrs. Gertrude Hardeman—who needs no introduction to most Coral Gables residents. Mrs. Hardeman will take charge of circulation and circulation promotion for the Riviera and we wish her the best in her determination to get more readers for this paper. Mrs. Hardeman is no neophyte in her new endeavor. She has participated in various contests which have been conducted by the Riviera and, invariably, has walked off with the choice awards. With respect to her ability as a business woman, she has had a good teacher in her husband, John V. Hardeman, who runs a successful insurance and real estate business in Miami.

In Our Mail

Editor, The Riviera: You are a newspaper man, therefore cynical. I believe all newspapermen are cynical, as witness "The Front Page" and John Pennekamp's "Behind the Front Page." Being a cynic you are skeptical why I tell you that I am not overly fond of seeing my name in print, but that is the case, sir, believe it or not! When I wrote you a letter last week approving what I thought was a change in policy allowing citizens to park at an angle from Breeding's corner, east, on Coral Way, I was trying to pin an orchid on somebody, but it now appears that there was a Simian in the woodpile. Try parking that-a-way (sic-Ed.) now and see how quickly you are introduced to the calabozo, which is the Spanish word for a cell in the hoosegow. Why, Mr. Editor, do the city fathers require us to park parallel to the sidewalk at this point, which is a great nuisance, when it is not required elsewhere in town? Very truly yours, MARY MARTHA MIMS.

WALTER LIPPMANN

In the relations between the East and the West, the historical theory is certain to be far more enlightening than any political formula which can be devised in a time of crisis. The United States is at war in Asia, and in this war we have a principal part to play, not as the arsenal of the United Nations but as a fighting power. For that reason it is necessary that we and our allies should seek to see clearly what we are fighting for in Asia, and how we mean to achieve our ends. On these crucial points the only sure evidence is the record of experience. We have had no commercial and political relations with the Orient since the earliest days of American independence. A vessel, called the Empress of China, left New York for Canton in 1784, and on its return Major Samuel Shaw, of Boston, was, on Secretary John Jay's recommendation, made consul at Canton. Our relations with Japan cover the ninety years since the visit of Commodore Perry. In this long relationship there has been only one short period—at the beginning of this century—when, having conquered the Philippines, the United States displayed the symptoms of imperialistic ambition. The ambition, however, had no roots in American sentiment and no foundation in American interest, and very quickly it evaporated. This short imperialist interlude and what has followed have made it very clear indeed that the controlling American purpose in the Far East is trade and cultural intercourse, and that to achieve this purpose we rely on two things; primarily, upon the desire of the peoples of Asia to be independent, and second upon using our own force to support them in resisting conquest and dismemberment. We have regarded our own profit as dependent upon equality of trade, and our security as closely bound up with the independence and integrity of the Asiatic peoples. In so far as we have failed in the East, it has not been in extending our power in Asia but in not taking sufficient trouble to be strong enough to give quick and decisive assistance to our natural allies. For all Asiatic peoples—the Koreans, the Chinese, the Filipinos, the Indians—want they stand opposed and demand—what they are the natural allies of the United States. Our security in the Pacific and their independence in Asia are the two sides of the same shield, and this fact, more than any declarations we sign with them, is the basic community of our aims. The acid test has been applied—persuasively, we believe, to the Philippines, and conclusively in China. In the long negotiations which preceded Pearl Harbor we were offered not merely peace with Japan, but even a junior partnership with Japan, provided we would connive at the conquest of China. We are at war with Japan because we rejected this proposal. Let us be very candid because candor is better than fine rhetoric. We rejected the Japanese proposals not as crusaders for the freedom of the world, nor only because there is in America great affection and deep admiration for the Chinese, but fundamentally because the independence of China is vital to the security of the United States. The Chinese, who are wise with the experience of centuries of civilized life, will recognize that such an alliance founded upon vital interest is infinitely more enduring and reliable than one founded upon sentiment or expediency. For in such an alliance as we have with the Chinese, each wants from the other only what each wants for itself—that is to say, its own national independence and national security. It is on this basis, with the Chinese as our witnesses and underwriters, that we can perhaps hope to approach the people of India, and help them to believe that their independence is in fact—regardless of the difficulty of finding formulae—indissolubly bound up with the cause of the United Nations. Here again candor is the best argument, and so it should be said that in the last two years gradually, in the last four months very rapidly, there has taken place a mighty change within the English-speaking world, and a mighty change also between West and East. The change is irreversible. The defeat of our enemies will confirm the change and mark the beginning of a new order of things, not the restoration of the old. What has happened—and it is one of the supreme events of modern history—is the growing union in the West of the English-speaking democracies and of their allies in Europe, and in the East the certain liquidation of Western imperialism. MacArthur in Australia, Cripps in India, Casey in Cairo Churchill and Roosevelt in London and Washington, are the symbols and the agents of this momentous development. There is a very close connection, in history and in our own days between the union or disunion of the Western democracies on the one hand, the extension or liquidation of Eastern imperialism on the other. It is no mere coincidence that the Eastern Empire of Britain was founded in the same generation that the connection of the English-speaking peoples was shattered. Clive's victory at Plassey was in 1757, Dupleix was overthrown by the British in India in 1754. It ended in the American colonies in 1776. For a century and a half while the course of empire in Britain was toward the East the course in America was in isolation. That epoch is now ended, the epoch of British imperialism and of American isolation. The new epoch began with the fall of France and the mortal peril in which not only Britain, Canada, Australia, but also the United States were placed. This peril has brought about a partnership of the English-speaking nations that is vitally closer, because the sanctions are life or death for all of us, than any which diplomatic or propaganda could imagine or contrive. This same peril has also brought about the disestablishment of our Western empires in Asia. Out of it has come a new order of association in the English-speaking world; out of it has come a new balance of power and a new order of relationship with the East. In this new order not empire but the anti-imperialism of the democratic peoples will be decisive. From the experience of China the leaders of India can best judge what this must mean. For whatever their failings, the English-speaking nations are now an association of anti-imperialistic democracies. As such they must, and therefore they will, deal with Asia as allies and not as protectors. As democracies they must for their own security be interested only in the desire of the Asiatic peoples to be independent.

All the World's a Stage. But - - - By BROWN

OUR TOWN by Jim Moore

How are you holding up under the barrage of enemy propaganda? Don't think you haven't been subjected to it, because you have—many times a day. The enemy propagandist is a very clever fellow. Sometimes he even outsmarts seasoned newspapermen, columnists and radio commentators. He goes slyly about sowing his seeds of propaganda, cleverly disguised as something else. Some are merely hints dropped where they can be heard and passed on. Often the fellow who hears them and passes them on thinks he has overheard something meant for other ears. But it was aimed directly at him. JIM MOORE Several times recently we have heard seemingly innocent jokes, told at parties, the sole purpose of which seemed only to bring a laugh. But the military intelligence, tracing their origin, found they were started by Nazi agents and that they held our allies up to ridicule or discredited them in some way. But how, you say, could a little joke do much damage? Per se, it couldn't. But thousands of such little jokes are being spread throughout the nation. Every day in cocktail lounges, club cars, on street cars and in a thousand and one other places little words are let fall carelessly. "Production at such and such a factory has slowed down." Many more ships have been sunk than have been reported." "Our soldiers abroad are dissatisfied and unhappy." "Morale is low in the training camps." These are but a few of the hints that are passed about. They seek to spread confusion, mistrust and dissatisfaction. They seek to distract us from our march to victory. They endeavor to slow down the manufacture of vital war materials. To a degree, they succeed. Propaganda today is a far cry from the horror stories of World War No. 1. Propaganda then was blunt, undisguised. It consisted of calling the enemy all the names the propagandist could think of. He shouted them, screamed them and emblazoned them in handbills. Today, propaganda is sly, quiet, well disguised. It is humorous, exciting, interest provoking. It often wears the garb of "inside information." It often comes from persons whose integrity seems unquestionable. That is why we must be more on guard than ever before. That is why we must place a voluntary gag in our mouths and pledge that we will not repeat rumors we hear about the war or any related subjects. This is important and there can be no excuse. Because if it is authentic, and isn't enemy propaganda, then there is all the more reason to keep the information to yourself so that it doesn't pass into the hands of Axis spies. We might well mould the "Keep 'Em Flying" slogan to our mouths and "Keep 'Em Shut!"

Mark Sullivan

We are entering the fourth month of war. It was on December 7 that Pearl Harbor was attacked, our declaration against Japan was on December 8, our declaration against Germany and Italy three days later. From the American point of view the course of events during the first four months is somber. The events separating that date and as of now—our present position in the war—is beyond the worst expectations of the most pessimistic. Hardly any person, in the United States or in all the United Nations, anticipated what happened at Pearl Harbor, or that Japan would take Singapore, or that she would take all the Dutch East Indies, or that she would be at the door of Australia. Least of all did anyone expect that Japan would be where now she apparently is—in a position to take Calcutta, and, if she takes Calcutta, thereafter either take military domination of India or, for the time being, go around India by sea, whichever seems to her the best military course. Strangely, the one conquest that Japan was commonly expected to make within a few weeks of the beginning of war, is the one she has not achieved—the conquest of the Philippines. But this is a minor exception to the course of the war, weighing little in the situation as a whole. The net of the picture is that at the end of four months we find Japan so advanced and entrenched that we, whenever we are ready for offensive, must start under conditions far more unfavorable than we anticipated. It is not merely the territorial acquisitions Japan has made; it is the strategic opportunities she has deprived us of. By taking Singapore she has deprived Great Britain of a base that was indispensable to preserving the empire, and us of a base which we counted on using. By taking the Dutch East Indies she has deprived us of any source of oil and gas in the area where the war must be fought—oil and gas for our planes and ships in Australia must now be brought from the United States or an equivalent distance; this is a handicap which will delay our offensive and make it difficult. What have been Japan's expenditures, have they been such as to handicap her in the next phase of the fighting? Of men she has lost many, but that is the resource she can best afford to spend. She has lost seriously in shipping, naval and cargo. And Japan had not too much shipping to start with, and her facilities for new construction are limited. Meanwhile, as her conquests expand to points more and more distant from home, her need for shipping increases. Shipping may be a weak point for Japan, if we are able to take advantage of it quickly enough. Japan must have gone deep into her reserves of steel, in which she was poor at the start, and for renewal of which she has but slight resources. None of her conquests so far has brought her iron ore or steel. If she takes Calcutta, she will get some access to fabricated steel. She must have used much of her reserves of oil and gas, although she had accumulated great stores—getting them, tragically as we see now, mainly from us and Britain. While in the Dutch East Indies she has acquired great stores of oil in the ground, it will be some months before she can restore the facilities for refining which the Dutch destroyed. Here again, time counts. On our side, such military and naval engagements as we have taken part in, has been almost wholly defensive. In the Philippines, our resistance while gallant in the highest degree, has still been resistance only. Our rescue of General MacArthur, while dramatic and cheering, has had only such military value as lies in preserving and bringing to a strategic point a valuable military commander. In our direct naval conflicts with the Japanese, probably the net loss has been on our side. Probably the same is true of conflicts in the air. Yet, if we look at our situation in terms of getting ready, of progress toward ability to take the offensive and finally win, our advance has been enormous. We started far behind the line. Japan has an army of some 2,500,000, which for sixty years has been constantly renewed by conscription and kept in top training, which for ten years, and especially the last four, had been exercised in actual war. Against that preparedness, our standing army, up to less than two years ago, was 200,000. From the time we adopted universal service, in September, 1940, until Pearl Harbor last December we had only a year and three months to build our army and train it. Today our army and our naval air forces are in full tide toward a size and a preparedness which will far exceed anything Japan can have. Likewise, in the process of turning our natural resources into the implements of war, we are in an immense surge of achievement toward a strength Japan cannot equal.

This, That, ONE'S ON YOU

LOCAL FRONT—Mac MacDonald last week put into operation a scheme, all his own, for getting his employees to save War Bonds and Stamps. With their pay envelope each received a War Savings book with the first 25-cent stamp already pasted in. Mac promised his workers to buy the last one for them if they would buy one a week. FINIS—Charlie Leyden of the Riviera staff has a side of his nature we didn't discover until just yesterday. It seems that when Charlie and his family moved into their home he found in a corner of one of the rooms an ugly but fat-and-healthy spider. Charlie knew that this spider was more friend than foe—that said spider would wax fat on more objectionable insects around the house. So, despite its ugliness, Charlie did NOT kill the spider. In fact, Charlie and his family sort of adopted the creature, watched him make his appearance in various rooms in the household and finally discovered that the spider's home base was in the third drawer of Charlie's dresser. When Charlie wanted to see how the spider was getting on he would gingerly open the drawer and there he would be! One day Charlie came home, noticed the spider had lost a leg. There was great feeling of sorrow in the Leyden household, and Charlie, who is learning to speak Spanish, said: "Me siento mucho." From then on the spider became known as siete (seven). The other day Charlie found siete curled up in the cloak of death and a deep feeling of sorrow appeared in the solar plexii of the Leyden family. NO BUNDLES FOR NAVY—If you've wondered why you've never seen a naval officer, laden with bundles and following his wife on a shopping tour—here's the answer. According to regulations, a naval officer is not supposed to carry bundles while in uniform. He may carry a brief case or small envelope, but that is all. If he's got a bundle despite the gold braid, he's "out of uniform" and an enlisted man is not required to salute him.

Book Briefs

"STRICTLY PERSONAL," by W. Somerset Maugham (Doubleday Doran). Reviewed by LOUISE LEYDEN "Strictly Personal" is a book dealing with the life of the author during the first fifteen months of the war. In it Mr. Maugham makes no brave attempts to deal with great events, but sets down the little things that happened to him during this period. The author was living on the French Riviera at Cap Ferrat when World War No. II flamed forth. In the opening chapters he tells of his life at this watering place, between Nice and Monte Carlo, describes his villa, his spacious gardens, and relates stories of a more domestic nature. The greater part of the book is taken up with war work and incidents pertinent to it. He was asked by the Minister of Information to write a series of articles on the French army. He looked upon the British war effort and how the population and army were getting on with the B. E. F." This mission took Mr. Maugham to the front lines, to munitions factories, in fact, to all the most important places in France at the time. When the articles were finished he went to England and was asked to write a series about England. Events on the Continent changed his plans. He was sent back to France for more articles. In the meantime, France was running the risk of the road, militarily speaking. At a moment's notice the author closed his house, gathered up a few belongings and boarded a collier with hundreds of other refugees. The voyage was a hazardous and an uncomfortable one. After twenty days he landed in England and found the English people of but one mind—determined to carry on until final victory. He spent some months in England writing and interviewing people in various branches of the government, then decided to take the clipper and come to America. "Strictly Personal," besides being an interesting account of the early days of the war, serves to give Mr. Maugham's reasons for the fall of France, which he witnessed first hand. He also gives some inside tips as to how fifth columnists operate, regarding Fifth Columnists, tips gathered from observations of their activities in many countries in Europe.