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Second Class Mail Registration Number 5540 established 1854 It‘s nonsensical to think the ball can be picked up from here. The NFL season is lost, should have been scrapped completely last week at the supposed midway point of the schedule, and been treated as a lesson learned by both ~parties involved. There was every likelihood that he was dead, or had moved, or had got out of the country, as so many white Rhodesians did when a black takeover seemed inevitable. And the other day, while I was having lunch, a member of our staff was reading a letter from Mark‘s wife. It turned out that they‘d been sent to Bulawayo, not Salisâ€" bury, She described conditions, pretty grim â€" curfews, house searches for insurâ€" gents, and so on â€" and the letter said: "And we‘re going for a picnic on Sunday with Bill Smiley‘s old air force friend." You could have knocked me down with a A few months ago, a young colleague of mine was heading off to Zimbabwe (formerly Rhodesia) with his wife and children to teach school there. They didn‘t know a soul in that part of Africa. I had a thought, which occurs every so often. ‘"Mark," I toid him, "I have an old warâ€"time friend who lived in Rhodesia. I‘ll dig up his address, and maybe he can at least give you some tips on life there." So I went to my old prisonerâ€"ofâ€"war log book, and there it was. Unfortunately, Don McGibbon lived in Bulawayo, not Salisâ€" bury, to which Mark was posted. However, I gave him the address and a note to my I have come up with some items that bring back memories and voices from the It‘s just not the kind of news that motivates us to do a handspring or cartwheel a la Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders. Reason? Because after the initial shock of being unplugged from Sunday‘s sports lifeline wore off, the effects of the strike, especially in Canada, were minimal. For the first time in recent memory, the Canadian Football League on the whole managed to produce an exciting brand of the game, certainly enough to satiate the cravings of most pigskin pundits. And as negotiations dragged on ad nauseum, the main issues drifted to the nether reaches, replaced only by colossal ennui. Of course in the end the settiement will assuredly be little more than was offered in the original pact by the owners. It was a case of players‘ calling the owners‘ bluff, not imagining that they would allow an eightâ€"week standâ€"off. And then, the reverse, the owners‘ calling the players‘ bluff as they watched their weekly salaries go up in smoke. ' But what of the fans, the ones who year after year faithfully have supported their clubs, most losers, through thick and thin? So we wake to the news this morning that the National Football League players‘ strike is over. Yawn. Big deal. After eight long weeks of players and management milking the media and public sympathy for all they‘re worth, who really gives a hoot that the two sides have settled in time to play a token nineâ€"game schedule just so Super Sunday in Pasedena can be as overhyped as ever? Now of course it won‘t be. In the guise of pseudoâ€"euphoria, all sides will be forgiven, kickâ€"offs will take place across the nation Sunday, and once again the paying public will be taken for a ride. 29 When will THEY ever learn? . I hadn‘t heard from Mac since SMILEY a division of K published every Wednesday by Fairway Press, address correspondence to Waterioo office: 45 Erb Si. E., Waterioo, Out. N2J 11.7, telephone £06â€"2830 Watertoo Chronicle office is located in the Harper. Haney and White Law Office Building (reer entrance, upper fioor). Parking at the rear = _ 225 Fairway Rd.S., Kitchener, Ont. oo To LAY OFF Trie KILVEI 4o Tok St. £. Wetariee. 0nE Ne 12. Iolgphane assâ€"4u%e | WhHEn T FOunD THEY Waterioo Chronicte office is located in the Harper. Haney and White . C p 14 COULDN‘T ADAPT FROM s oi uie n in ons hn n old on ® y,". MaKihics DOLL® y Publisher: Paul Winkler ’ M COMP 1_'€K CGAMeEeS. / lack of swank. And, of course, they were needle them about that. Mac was one of the best of the best. As if that weren‘t enough to start the juices of memory flowing, my wife, while cleaning out drawers and boxes, came across a cache of ancient letters and pictures that I‘d forgotten existed. There I am, Leading Aircraftsman Smiley, at 21, black hair, white teeth (the aopposite of the present, wedge cap tilted to one side, dashing moustache, cocky as only a young fellow can be when he knows he‘s going to be a fighter pilot. And there I am again, on a prison camp identification card, complete with numâ€" 1945, when we were both incarcerated in prison camp. We‘d been on the same Typhoon wing in Normandy where I knew him slightly. ‘He‘d been shot down shortly after I was, and, joined by a wounded Australian, Frank Land, we wound up as a trio doing a train journey all over Germany; first to a camp occupied by British and New Zealand veterans of Cyprus, then to an interrogation centre at Frankfurt, then off on a long haul across the warâ€"torn country to a prison camp, where we wound up in the same room in barracks. One forms pretty close associations under trying circumstances. We did. I had a lot of respect for the Rhodesians I‘d met; Manager: Bill Karges Editor: Rick Campbell Examining the cache AH , YES, WELuLl... ‘TO LAY OFF ie . When T FOunD ° i | COULDN‘T ADpaAPT o 2: MAKINCG1 DOLLS hts L(T e HELLPERS ques Van der Perren, Belgian, and Singh Thandi, Indian Air Force. Van escaped when the Germans invaded Beigium, made his way through occupied France, got over the mountains into Spain and was thrown in jail for six months. He was eventually released, got to England, joined the R.A.F. and was shot down and killed on a mission not far from his home town in Belgium. Singh Thandi went back to India. 1 heard he was killed flying Hurricanes in Burma. We were closer than most brothers. The only one of that crowd lefih:adl:‘uof‘fm.'l\em were from haif the countries in Europe :::m.nmmmumfi-l _ Here‘s a letter, written to my mother, another camp, front and side view, looking 10 years older, stubble of beard, mean. And finally, a photo taken soon after release, sporting the magnificent handleâ€" bar moustache I‘d grown in camp. There‘s a picture of Freddy Wakeham, Canadian, Eric Neckien, New Zealander, and self, in front of our tent in Normandy. I am the only survivor. And another one, both leaning against a Spitfire‘s fuselage, of two of our gang, a motley crowd, when we trained in Shropshire to take off and land Spits without killing ourselves. Jacâ€" bers and fingerprint, soon after I‘d been shot down, looking bewildered and anyâ€" shot down, ilooking bewiidered and anyâ€" thing but cocky. And another photo, at Yeahn , and th2y qrumbl: ag about Pve i "L rtv with ow > moi d in "'l Squadron: ‘"Happy to inform you that your son F/O Smiley WBT is safe and well as A letter of commiseration from my college president, when the first "missâ€" mc'.'mmtwt.m;ny.amm a ch, in England: “Solnmtoz‘ able to welcome and chat with your son, his safe arrival in England." Dated May Strammilager XI, Deutschiand. It‘s in French. Part of it ‘"‘Ici mon ami Bill, votre fils qui actuellement dans mon stalag ..." and so on. He told her I was en parfaite santee (in perfect health) and tried to reassure her. How good of him. I don‘t even remember him, although I knew a number of French POWs. He ends by saying, in French: "I hope that he himself will be able to write youâ€" soon." Why couldn‘t I write then? Who was Casajus? Must dig into the memory celis. And on they go. A letter from my squadron leader describing my last misâ€" sion, and holding out hope. A letter from a chap in Florida to my parents. He listened every night, on his short wave radio, to prisoner of war. Letter follows." lists of Allied prisoners announced by the Germans, and had caught my name and People in those days really cared. I‘ve only skimmed the surface. And a happy, happy telegram, marked