Into U.S.O. fund headquarters in Logansport, Ind., fortnight ago, came two hot, weary young Americans wearing the blue-grey uniform of the R.A.F. One of them, decorated with the Distinguished Flying Cross, carried a barracks bag; the other, badly in need of a shave, had only his empty pipe for duffle. Could they get a meal?
Shyly they told their story. They were both on convalescent leave, hitchhiking across the country to visit their parents in San Diego, Calif. They had such short leave they hadn't waited for the British consul to arrange...
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