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IN THIS ISSUE

• Zvonko Springer writes about the most unforgettable day of his life
• Barbara Wear makes a new friend
• Peter Rollo has a horrifying introduction to police life
• Anne Rahamout is having trouble as a ´copter pilot
• Don Henderson shares some smart caddy replies
• Burke Dykes tells the story of an unlikely felon
• Carol Shoemaker forwards some scary statistics
• Elana´s story is about a Jewish conversion
• Geoff Goodship returns from a trip to the Yukon

Zvonko Springer recalls the horrific details of his most

UNFORGETTABLE DAY

Born in 1925 in the town of Osijek, in Croatia, I completed my secondary schooling in 1943 and in October was recruited by the Croatian home guard, the state´s regular army. Croatia had been under the Ustasha regime ruled by Dr. Ante Pavelic since 1941, and he cooperated with the Nazi regime in Germany.

I was in a group of twenty in Stockerau to be trained as an artillery officer. In early June of 1944, around my 19th birthday, we travelled by train from Stockerau to Neusiedl on the Lake, where many Croatian trainees congregated from various barracks in Austria and Germany. We were supposed to go on home leave but first had to learn the German parade marching step as we were to march past in front of the Poglavnik in Zagreb, the Croatian capital, on a parade June 10.

Still in Neusiedl, we learned about the Allied Forces´ invasion in Normandy on June 6. We worried about our home leave being cancelled because of that military affair on the Western Front. As artillery trainees we wore long riding boots so we could not participate in that parade. Thus we had to carry out the guard duties in Neusiedl barracks. One day we had to fish out from the shallow lake two American pilots who parachuted down after their aircraft was shot down.

Despite all our worries, we boarded the train in Neusiedl early on June 9. The train was full of expectant young officers going on their first (and only) home leave. Travel continued undisturbed throughout the whole day. It was shortly before midnight when the train stopped at Bregana, some 30 miles from Zagreb. We were sleeping on the floor of cattle-wagons, happy to be going home on a fortnight leave.

There were three trains waiting at Bregana station that night to continue their travel early next morning. Closest to the station was a train with wagons full of kerosene barrels and a few tank wagons full of some kind of fuel. At both ends of this train were posted flat wagons with mounted "Vierlings" - automatic anti-aircraft four-barrelled guns. These guns were dreaded by most low-flying aircrafts or attacking infantry. The guns were manned by German soldiers.

Our train was in the middle of the three and on the other side was a train loaded with coal and some other material. An open meadow stretched beyond the empty rail tracks at opposite sides of the station. The night was mild and quiet so we left the wagon doors open to catch some evening breeze. We did not carry any arms with us as those who were joining the parade would get their rifles in Zagreb.

Shortly before midnight, out of nowhere, machine guns opened fire, followed by the noisy clank of the anti-aircraft guns. Soon the sky was red with burning fuel, barrels flying into the air and exploding, spraying fire all around. Above all this din we heard calls: "Partisans´ attack!" or "Get out of wagons!" and "Run for safety!" We could clearly hear the sound of one or more aircraft flying at a low level above the station. I jumped out of our wagon, squirmed under the nearest wagon loaded with coal, and looked back. The night was ablaze with fire of ignited and exploding kerosene and fuel. Some coal on open wagons started burning too. Our train was in the middle of this inferno.

I crawled out the shelter of a wagon loaded with coal and started running towards the open meadow. I ran for my life as fast I could in those heavy boots. Suddenly I stumbled over a rail, lost my balance, and hit another rail with my chest. The impact knocked me senseless for a few moments. I could not breathe or feel anything and just lay there stretched out. Then I saw the tracer bullets from an aircraft coming straight at me. The noise was paralyzing, flames and sparks were everywhere, with more explosions and more bullets coming my way.

I just could not move! I heard somebody calling my name, saying, "Peggy is hit!" or "Zvonko is dead!" ("Peggy" was my class nickname.) Despite all my efforts, I could not move, and no sound would come out of my lungs. Then from somewhere, two pals appeared and pulled me up, urging me to run from that infernal place. We stopped at the meadow and lay there to catch our breath. After a while I started to breathe normally again and thanked my saviours in a croaking voice.

We spent the rest of night in a barn sleeping in fresh hay. Next morning we got up at sunrise and returned to the station. What havoc was there! A few coal loads were still smouldering and about half of the German fuel train was burned out. It was a twisted and black charred ruin. Germans had collected their dead comrades from burned-out wagons. I never saw a human body reduced to such charred lumps before. The stench was repulsive - I could never forget it.

Our train was pulled out by one of our comrades whose father had taught him how to drive a locomotive. We boarded the wagons fast and soon were on the way to Zagreb. The parade was not to be held that day because we all were dirty and too shaken. My group of artillery trainees got the order to proceed on home leave immediately. I got my travel permission with an order to leave Zagreb by train for my hometown on the same day.

In a group of 12 comrades from my home town, I arrived at Slavonski Brod, half way to Osijek, in the afternoon. We had to disembark from the train far out from the railway station, which was still smouldering after an attack by American Flying Fortresses that morning. The station was severely hit and we saw many bomb craters and fires on our way along the tracks. We learned that there had also been an air raid on Osijek that same morning.

The Flying Fortresses would start from Italy flying towards Ploesti (Rumania´s important fuel refinery) where they were met by strong defence fire. On their return flight, several of them would drop their bombs on Osijek and Brod (both cities had smaller refineries and some industries). I knew about of an earlier air raid on Osijek refinery. It had devastated the Lower Town. I was plagued by the thought of what might have happened to my home as I walked through Slavonski Brod station.

In late afternoon we reached Osijek after we had boarded another train on the other side of Slavonski Brod station. Walking from the railway station, I passed on my way home several still smouldering or damaged houses. Finally I saw our street with trees and houses undamaged. I rang the doorbell and entered the front door. My parents´ Doberman, called "Peggy", ran out barking fiercely and with flashed teeth at me. Who is this odd-smelling and dirty-looking uniformed man? I was glad to be home at last!

My home leave was a short one. Some two weeks later I returned to Stockerau and took part in the tragic end of World War II.

Thus ended my "unforgettable day" in which I was initiated into the horrors of war. The very worst part of my life would follow several months later.

~~~~~~

Anybody interested in reading more about my life´s most dramatic and traumatic four months in 1945 please go to http://cosy.sbg.ac.at/~zzspri/index./html and open * Zvonko´s Book in English.

Barbara Wear makes

AN UNEXPECTED NEW FRIEND

On Friday, June 29th, while I was at work at Endicott College in Beverly, Mass., a man appeared at my door asking me if I knew where there was a Best Buy store. His English was broken and I was having difficulty understanding his request. After a few tries, I learned he was trying to get a power cord for his new laptop computer.

Since our laptop coordinator was on vacation, I decided that perhaps I could take him to Best Buy when work ended at 1 p.m.

My boss overheard the conversation and after learning that this man was at a conference at Endicott, said that I could leave to take him to Best Buy. This is how I came to know Sergio Pacheco, who was from a small village near Sao Paulo, Brazil.

The only Portuguese I knew was how to say "good morning" but I felt as the time went on, I would understand his attempt at English. We drove over to Best Buy and I learned that he had just been to a previous conference in State College, PA, and had purchased his laptop there. When we got to Best Buy, we were fortunate to find a person who was also from Brazil who was able to establish by talking to Sergio that indeed the power cord was missing. It was decided by the salesperson that the box containing the laptop would have been opened in State College to check it out and the power cord was not packed. Since the purchase was just four days before, he was given a new cord.

Next door to Best Buy is A. C. Moore and I needed to go there and get some yarn. While in the store, Sergio discovered a Sno-cone machine. He decided to buy one for his seven-year-old daughter, Laura, as she had never seen snow before. I don´t think he fully understood that it made crushed ice that you added a variety of flavors to ... all he knew was he wanted his daughter to see snow.

Since it was getting near lunch time, I asked if he wanted to go to "Fire Bull", a Brazilian restuarant in the area. I had never been before but had heard the food was delicious. You took a plate, got your food from a food bar, and they weighed it and charged you per pound. I can´t tell you the names of the food but it was so delicious I felt I had died and gone to food heaven. Sergio found many Portuguese-speaking people in the restaurant to converse with while we had our lunch.

Because of our lateness, he missed a trip to Rockport, Mass., so I drove him around Salem. He saw the Witch House, Witch Museum, and the House of Seven Gables. I had my camera so got some nice pictures of him. Our last stop was Salem Willows, a small amusement park. We got ice cream (chocolate with tiny marshmellows) and Hobbs´ famous pulled taffy.

It was a wonderful day for us both, and I am sure he will remember the day as much as I will. Perhaps one day, I will take him up on his offer to visit Brazil.

Peter Rollo recalls his

FIRST AIRCRASH

On my first day on duty as a member of the Western Australian Police Force I experienced an event which many young men aged 25 would not have had. I was rostered for duty to commence at 7 a.m.With 12 other policemen, I lined up in the office, feeling rather nervous, but proud to be wearing the uniform of a police officer.

What we were about to experience would have made many of my age group shudder.

Our duty sergeant informed us that a few minutes before our line up, a MacRobertson Miller DC3 aircraft had crashed taking off from the Domestic Airport and burst into flames.

We were rushed onto a coach and conveyed to the area just a yard or two from the runway. Imagine our shock to see the remains of an aeroplane, burning, at the same time light rain was falling. Body parts were scattered everywhere, accompanied by the smell of burning flesh. A shocking sight I can assure you, and one I shall never forget. In fact, it was days after that I could still imagine that I was smelling burnt flesh.

Sadly, there were no survivors. It was the duty of the police to keep away members of the public and to collect any personal belongings that we could locate.

I have never forgotten the many hours that I was at the scene. To add to our shock, we finished up soaking wet, our brand-new uniforms covered in mud and ash. All in all, it was something that I and my buddies would never had thought could happen to us.

I might add that this was not the only air crash that I experienced during my 36 years in the police force. I attended yet another two in years to come. They were horrifying experiences.

Anne Rahamut has been having trouble with the

FLYING HELICOPTER GAME

I love a challenge. I´m not afraid to tackle something new. For example, I am the first of my circle to learn the basics of sudoku-solving. I´m even mastering the buttons on my VCR.

But that @%$# online Helicopter game has got me beat! I met it first on The Tale Spinner a couple of years ago. I collected its URL for my games file and I´ve played it off and on ever since ... but only when I´m feeling happy and strong. Otherwise, I need to wipe off my computer screen from yet another attack of a-a-a-r-gh spittle after I´ve once again failed in flight school.

I thought I´d set myself a rather simple goal. I´d reach 1,000 feet of undamaged flight and then call that game solved. Well, that sure hasn´t happened. My best flight is only 732 feet. I´m hopeless. CHPI (Canadian Helicopter Production Inc) has made untold profit from my repurchases. The CHP (Canadian Helicopter Police) have threatened my license repeatedly. The CCEG (Canadian Cavern Explorers Group) has banned my carrying of passengers. My friends have recently introduced me to a CFTD professional (Cavern Flyers´ Talent Deficiency doc) in hopes of some sort of resolution of my ailment.

One solution of mine is just never to really look at that game listing in my files, a no-see-no-play sort of ploy. That works after a fashion. However, unless I throw the file away - and suffer addiction withdrawal-or I hide the thing among something like old tax forms-and suffer hide-and-seek-syndrome - I can see no real solution to the problem. And then, to make matters worse, I open up this week´s Tale Spinner and immediately start hearing rotor blade whup-whups. The game has been re-introduced. Good grief!

So, I´m appealing to Tale Spinner members to help me out here. How have you fared? Have you reached 1000 ft of safe flight? Can I salvage some dignity in the knowledge that 732 feet is a respectable measure? Has anyone developed any gotcha-good flight techniques? Any sympathies out there for my flight plight? Or should I just do another header into the nearest stalactite and call it quits? ED. NOTE: I refuse to share my best score, and Jean Sterling admits that she will never make a helicopter pilot. However, Jay has flown 1103 feet, and sent me a screen snap to prove it. Kids!

Don Henderson sends these replies for the amusement of non.golfers:

TOP CADDY REPLIES

10. Golfer: "I Think I´m going to drown myself in the lake." Caddy: "Think you can keep your head down that long?"

9. Golfer: "I´d move heaven and earth to break 100 on this course." Caddy: "Try heaven; you´ve already moved most of the earth."

8. Golfer: "Do you think my game is improving?" Caddy: "Yes sir, you miss the ball much closer now."

7. Golfer: "Do you think I can get there with a 5 iron?" Caddy: "Eventually."

6 Golfer: "You´ve got to be the worst caddy in the world." Caddy: "I don´t think so sir. That would be too much of a coincidence."

5. Golfer: "Please stop checking your watch all the time. It´s too much of a distraction." Caddy: "It´s not a watch. It´s a compass."

4. Golfer: "How do you like my game?" Caddy: "Very good sir, but personally, I prefer golf."

3. Golfer: "Do you think it´s a sin to play on Sunday?" Caddy: "The way you play, sir, it´s a sin on any day."

2. Golfer: "This is the worst course I´ve ever played on." Caddy: "This isn´t the golf course. We left that an hour ago."

1. Best Caddy Comment - Golfer: "That can´t be my ball; it´s too old." Caddy: "It´s been a long time since we teed off, sir."

Burke Dykes forwards this

STORY OF A CONVICT

Two very elderly friends, Harv and Jack, met in the park every day to feed the pigeons, watch the squirrels, and discuss world problems. One day Jack didn´t show up; Harv didn´t think much about it, figured maybe he had a cold or some such.

But after Jack hadn´t shown up for a week or so, Harv really got worried. However, the only time they ever got together anymore (they used to play a lot of golf together) was at the park, and Harv couldn´t remember where Jack lived so he was unable to find out what had happened to him.

A month passed and Harv figured old Jack had gone to his heavenly reward, but one day Harv approached the park and, lo and behold, there sat Jack! Harv was very excited and happy to see him and told him so. Then he said, "For crying out loud Jack, what happened to you???"

Jack replied, "I have been in jail."

"Jail?," cried Harv. "What in the world for???"

"Well," Jack said, "you know Sue, that cute little blonde waitress at the coffee shop where we sometimes get coffee?"

"Yeah" said Harv, "I remember her. What about her?"

"Well one day last month she got mad at me and to get even, she charged me with rape. I was so proud of what everyone would think an old guy like me could still do, that when I got into court, I pled guilty. The judge then took a good look at me and gave me 30 days for perjury."

Carol Shoemaker believes there is a lot we can all do to change these

SCARY FACTS

Senator Barbara Boxer is working on a law to ban plastic bottles. You know, those water bottles everyone carries around with them.

Did you know:

1) Every day, Americans generate 1.4 billion pounds of trash - about 4.5 pounds per person. (Do you know what a billion is? Approximately equal to number of seconds that have passed since thedeath of Christ.)

2) We throw away 2.5 million plastic bottles in the trash every HOUR!

3) 10% of your grocery bill pays for packaging - that´s more than the farmers get.

4) Every year, Americans toss out 72.4 million tons of packaging.

5) The average American uses 800 pounds of paper per year. Paper takes up 40% of our landfills. (It´s increased since the use of computers!)

6) The annual trash from gift-wrap and shopping bags each holiday season totals about 4 million tons.

7) Every year Americans throw away enough used motor oil to fill 120 supertankers.

8) An estimated 200 million gallons of used motor oil is improperly disposed of each year. It is dumped on the ground, tossed in the trash, and poured down storm sewers and drains.

9) One drained oil filter still holds enough oil to pollute 31,250 gallons of water!

10) 500 million oil filters are thrown away each year!

11) Used oil from one oil change is enough to contaminate 2 million gallons of fresh water. That´s a year´s supply of fresh water for 200 people.

12) One gallon of used oil provides 2.5 quarts of high quality lubricating oil. It takes 42 gallons of crude oil to produce the same amount.

13) It requires 95% less energy to make a can from recycled aluminum as compared to virgin ore.

14) In 2001, only 49% of the aluminum cans sold in the United States were recycled.

15) If the 760,000 tons of aluminum cans thrown into landfills in 2001 had been recycled, enough energy would have been saved to light Chicago, Dallas, Detroit, San Francisco and Seattle for a year.

Data taken from "Californians Against Waste, Recycle Fact Sheet" http://www.cawrecycles.org/webpage/facts/factsheet.htm;

Purdue Research Foundation, Purdue Agricultural & Biological Engineering Department, and the Environmental Protection Agency, West Lafayette, Indiana 47907. (C) Copyright, 1996;

American Forest and Paper Association http://www.afandpa.org

CMBC & The Wall Street Journal. "High costs put crimp in recycling," By John J. Fialka, (c)2002, Dow Jones & Company, Inc.

Elana sends this story of

THE CONVERSION

Two old Jewish men are strolling down the street one day when they happen to walk by a Catholic church. They see a big sign posted that says, "Convert to Catholicism and get $100."

One of the Jewish men stops walking and stares at the sign. His friend turns to him and says,"Murray, what´s going on?"

"Abe," replies Murray, "I´m thinking of doing it."

Abe says, "What are you, crazy?"

Murray thinks for a minute and says, "Abe, I´m going to do it."

With that, Murray strides purposefully into the church. Twenty minutes later he walks out with his head bowed.

"So," asks Abe, "did you get your hundred dollars?"

Murray looks up at him and says, "Is that all you people think about?"

Geoff Goodship writes briefly about their

RECENT TRIP

Home again. Good trip, despite the poor weather and a few rough roads. We finally managed to cross B.C´s Northern Border into Watson Lake, Yukon. Went north on the Alaska Highway then south on the Cassier, the latter being much more scenic. Saw bear, moose, elk, deer, coyotes, and a few other critters along with some breathtaking wilderness scenery.

On the way home we landed in Williams Lake just as their famous stampede was starting. The whole town was ready to party. Saw two days´ events. More than the horse and bull events, we enjoyed the skills, speed, and athleticism of the cattle dogs as they moved three wild cows through an obstacle course and into a pen.

Took tons of photos. You can see just a few of them at the link below:

http://picasaweb.google.com/geoffirst/YukonHoliday1

BULK WATER EXPORTS

If you are concerned about the protection of our national waters, you can send a letter to the Prime Minister and other politicians from this site: http://www.rightoncanada.ca

For all you pilots and wannabe pilots, Bruce Galway forwards this chance to see how you would do as the pilot of a cargo plane over a drop zone:

http://www.rafcareers.com/altitude/games/dz_game/dzgame.cfm

You can also read this newsletter online at http://members.shaw.ca/vjsansum/

"Laughter is the shortest distance between two people." - Victor Borge