World War II: Part 2

Babe Horrell's all too long reign as head coach of the Bruin football machine came to an anticlimactic end yesterday afternoon . . .

Here on campus, the players themselves are perhaps the most anti-Horrell of any group. For example, many of the men on the squad call Horrell "High School Harry," a not-so-subtle way of casting dark aspersions upon the Babe's coaching abilities. (CB, 1/5/45.)
 

It was time for a change, Student Body President Robert Jaffie decided. Working cautiously and thoroughly, he began gathering evidence for an action he felt would rid the campus of the radical tenor of the Daily Bruin.

First, he made a survey of the cub reporters who had signed up at the beginning of the term to write for the Bruin. He compiled an impressive set of documents that seemed to indicate that only six of 123 persons who "started work" on the Bruin in the fall were still with the paper.

His figures showed that 37 had quit because "they didn't feel they had the time," nine because of a "bad, unfriendly, rude attitude," thirteen because of "noise" and "hectic, disorganized" conditions, thirteen because they "didn't like the people," ten because of "no work, no chance to write, felt like 'excess baggage,'" ten because of the "bad language used, general disagreeable atmosphere," fourteen because of "too much pull needed, hard to break into clique running things," and eleven because they had to use a "forced Bruin style which they felt was inferior, or wasn't sure exactly what it was." Some of the comments he gained from these dropout reporters were: "The cub editor was about the only one who spoke to me." "Talked dirty." "Bad atmosphere." "Radical group." "Learn the Bruin style, forget any other." "I had to take off my sorority pin when I went into the office." "They push you into a corner and forget about you. "

Next, Jaffie wrote letters to selected officials asking their opinion of the Bruin. Librarian Lawrence Clark Powell replied that "In the seven years I have been here we have never had any adequate news coverage of library activities." Assistant Dean of Students Byron H. (Barney) Atkinson suggested that
 

in the future the Student Council thoroughly investigate not only the journalistic qualities but the general ethical background of all applicants . . . Judicious selection of staff, and a fearless policy of removal of those staff members who violate their own rather broad policy, will do much . . . to correct this abuse. The absolutely intolerable article re Mr. Horrell is a case in point . . . (SEC, 1/31/45.)

Third, the student body president presented a slate of four candidates for key editorial positions, all of whom had had journalistic experience in a junior college or high school. After lengthy debate, the Jaffie slate was rejected by the Student Council on an 8-7 vote. It was a close call for the Daily Bruin. But only a few years later, another Council would succeed in an oft-expressed goal of pitching out the "radicals" from the Bruin staff (Chapter 14). The University Administration had supported the Jaffie slate, counting on its ultimate victory. Dean of Undergraduates Miller wrote President Sproul that
 

 Two of the girls on the Council who had previously indicated their willingness to support Bob Jaffie's program changed their votes at the last minute . . . this leaves Mr. Jaffie, and all of us who supported his slate, in an unfortunate situation with regard to our relations with the incoming staff. I have hopes, however, that the affair as a whole will have some beneficial results in connection with the general character of the paper. (Arch, Box 327, Folder 40.)

There was one beneficial result. the Bruin and Publications Board began keeping track of the cubs who signed up for training, the better to refute such charges as Jaffie had leveled. Regarding the semester for which Jaffie had gathered his figures, Publications Board reported that 120 cubs had signed up for the three weeks of classes, and 35 (not six) were promoted to apprentice reporter. "For the most part, reporters who failed to be promoted after completion of cub classes quit the Bruin." (SEC, 2/16/45.) Still, the charges of clannishness, unfriendly attitude and office confusion continued to haunt the Bruin for a decade. There was undoubtedly some generalized truth in them.

With the Bruin slate approved, Editor Helene Licht took the opportunity to write a series of controversial editorials attacking the theretofore sacrosanct University Religious Conference, which she charged had "flaunted religion in the face of the students, making them spout the ideals of religious tolerance, and then turned around and practiced just the opposite." (CB, 2/6/45.)

Again, President Sproul received the inevitable kickback -- a protest letter from the Conference board chairman. Sproul replied, with considerable understatement, ". . . it is taking longer to correct this evil than I had anticipated." (Arch, Box 327, Folder 40, 2/9/45.)

Meanwhile, the Bruin continued to publish. On April 13, 1945, its banner headline read "NATION MOURNS ROOSEVELT." And on May 9, 1945, "Nazis Sign Peace Terms." Finally, on Aug. 17, 1945, it published a full-size, eight-column "V-J Day Commemoration Edition'' including two picture pages of the history of the war. The lead story: "Emperor Issues Cease Firing Order; Pleads Surrender Time Extension." On the inside, the campus reaction:
 

Siren Wail Jolts Bruins
into V-J Demonstration

by Anne Stern

 4:30 p.m., Tuesday, August 14, 1945.

 Across the sun-drenched, slightly sleepy campus, arose the wail of the air raid sirens, installed atop the physics building. [Now Kinsey Hall.] They screeched out the "all clear" signal, the sound swelling into a crescendo of discordant notes, to proclaim to the University that an "all clear" had sounded for the entire world . . .

 Late campus habituees came pouring out of the library, labs, late classes. The crowds assembled around the radios in K.H. 200 and K.H. 212 grew, drinking in every word of President Truman's and Prime Minister Attlee's messages announcing the unconditional surrender of Nippon . . .

 The University band, routed from a rehearsal session by the world-shaking development, launched into a spontaneous concert of patriotic and University songs on the lawn in front of the gym . . .

 Many tears were openly or unnoticedly wiped away during the first realization that peace was finally returning to a world that had been constantly threatened by totalitarian aggression since Japan's invasion of Manchuria in 1931, and that men in the services were coming home, safe . . . (CB, 8/17/45.)

Editor Hannah Bloom proclaimed in her editorial:
 

 This is the post-war world . . . They have given us the beginning. We must take it from here.