The Daily Worker Newspaper, May 9, 1931, Page 4

DAILY WORKER, NEW YORK, SATURDAY. MAY 9 , 193% — NO INCENTIVE to WORK? Bs HELEN KAY. young Commu ar teered to 0, Ben one o cultural f of development w driving enthusiasm Incentive? An exal reported in the Communist '¥ r The adventures of an expedition of twelve young Communists is related whi RED ARMY SKIERS certainl, y story of lack of ambition, initiative, or incentive for work. A group of ‘trained skiiers, and champions of sp clubs offered to go into the vered Caucasian Mounta ev r months, and so e cont with the Swanetean trib area The young revolutionists w which dwelt in this His,agvice and cai ty,tough to the y lasters but they-had volunteer he job, and, they were de- d to open winter commu with Swanetea at all cot older camtade had never skis. Sol we decided to take he sturdy § through the ch we glided with reported one of the desp snow little Kom As the v erem higher and nar- fower the twelve heard a roar like ry and the mountan far ss of huge ice rocks into the pass. The above them. 2 1 fell thunderously boys halted agli depth of the snow int wa chief dane ut* the s anches. he stimimer trail through Latpar Valley ‘was tmpossible—their only chance was-to go back up the Mountainside afid make their way over the crest of the peaks above the avalanches. “By the follgying evening we reached a point above the timberline and we slept in a it that was to be our permanduib. Next morn- ing we left our*foiif $eakest member: there and the remaining eight started glong the Ust“¥ahey that runs @ound the maimpeak. At nighifail We returned e: [—Ugir was also barred by arqisignee.” related the warrator. But the young Communists did not » They were not discouraged. And Ith a tenacity of purpose continued the conquering of athe heights, The hhext day they edged -zig zag up the hour after: hour with grilling effort. until thefr Enapsacks seemed bo weigh tons. They spent the night (huddled together'n a hole dug in the mow. The next day at noon the mountain top was reached and again hey penetrated.the Caucasian peaks. Gradually the jpfiss narrowed until WHEN Evee Haoay Fig iH | GETS Sant Pal a By WALKER A Fish was always spouting, He thought he;wWas a whale; Tut a'l the water that he had Was in a tin red pail. Charles Spector. a knife-like edge. ‘They roped themselves together, and sidled cautiously along on their skis, The most dangerous moment in the entire expedition came when it was neces- sary to mount a wider slope at an A hundred angle of thirty degrees. yards ahead of them an avalanche 1. It was minute in comparison with the snow slides in the lower val- leys, but if it would have come a few seconds later, the eight would not have lived to tell the tale. “Not daring to talk we slid cau- tiously past the danger point and then far below we saw the main | Swanetean Valley—we had crossed divide. Again we spent the night a snowhole and all next day we ed vainly to find a safe descent, it we managed to’reach a hut not above the timber line. In the |morning wolf tracks guided us and we slid easily downward.” “Thus we opened Swanetea to cul- nd economic association during inter with the outer world.” This of the Komsomols men blazed a trail rto never traversed. y mot only did it for the sport or the personal glory, but they had the interest of the progress of the n toilers at Means of act with a people who were en- tirely cut off from the world for six to seven months out of the year had been opened! The young Communists were warn- ed of the dangers at the start. They were told that it could not be done. t having volunteered especially for expedition, they were determined to get through. “Young Russia is like that,” says Walter Duranty, who reported this achievement in the April 2ist issue of the New York Times. Indeed it is. Young Russia Ss the task of erecting a new world free from exploiters and oppressors, and it is just such enthusiasm and initiative that is building socialist construction in the Workers’ Fathér- land They are Lenin’s Banner Bearers. And they hold the banners high. The heroic working youth of the Soviet Union, fearless and determined face of the greatest obstacles, are the best guarantee that the So- viet Union will live and be an in- spiration to the toilers of the entire world. Komsomols that will brave the avalanches to blaze new trails, facing death, will not stand for in- tervention: Forty-One Men ~ Get A “Job” (From Washington Daily News) r A STUFFY little classroorf in the Labor Department 41 gray-haired men sit laughing. These are the new State Directors of the reorganized Federal Employment Service, learn- ing how to solve unemployment in the U. S. ‘The day is warm. Doors... wind- ows are wide open. Bursts of laugh- ter . . . appreciative chuckles . . . the drone of a voice .. . applause . grunts of amusement echo thru the corridors. Bluff, be-spectacled Secretary of Labor Doak is telling another joke. When he’s tired, Supervising Direc- tor John R. Alpine will take his place. But—hush!—or you'll miss this one. It sounds amusing. Whoops of joy greet the conclusion of the joke. Passersby in the corridors wonder at the noise of knee slapping. ete ® TEACHERS DOAK and Alpine daily give their series of genial talks to the gray-haired pupils. How long will these talks last? “By the time these men go back to their states they'll be calling each other ‘Tom, Dick and Harry’,” is the somewhat evasive answer. Several of the pupils are already calling each other by their first name Roll call assures the presence of each State Director after the jokes have been told. “Now”, says the teacher, “go back to your hotel and see if you can be back here tomorrow morning with some questions to ask. Be here promptly at 9 o'clock.” A faint wail is discernible, like the vague moaning of waves when you hold a sea-conch to your ear. “Aw! Aww-w-aw-aww!” “What?” asked the surprised teacher, ‘tis 9 o'clock too early?” Rebillious silence. “Well,” sighs good-natured Teach- er, “I suppose you must have your beauty sleep. Get down here at 9:30 then!” With the abandon of school chil- dren, the happy scholars break ranks and romp outside, It’s spring .... spring . . . and President Hoover is in the White House! If anyone is worrying about unem- ployment, it does not appear to be the Federal Unemployment Service— to judge from the conferences. By N. BUCHWALD ‘THE first of May has brought us 4 more than one achievement. Among hem is the first issue of the “Pio- neer,” a new magazine for workers’ and farmers’ children. A number of competent proletarian writers and artists have been drawn in by the revolutionary children’s movement to bring the class consci- ous word to the broad masses of workers’ and farmers’ children. The first effort is a real delight. The magazine, in all its phases—reading terial, cartoons, satire, and infor- mal conten is uniform in tone and diverse in content. One feels that the contenis reach the chi!- dren, affecting them directly with the force. of their c. meaningful words, with the force of their simple telling cartoons. There isn't a trace of the stilted, stereotyped “Party jargon” that so often proves a stumbling block in our attempt to put our mes- sage across to our readers. The fun- damental aspects of the class strug- gle are here translated into the sim- ple, every-day language of the Am- erican boy and girl between the ages of 10 and 16, ‘The Editorial Staff of the “Pioneer” includes well-known figures on the Proletcult front—Myra Page, V. Je- rome, Lydia Gibson, Hugo Gellert, Bill Gropper, J. Preval and Harry Potamkin. In the list of co-workers are found juvenile contributors, lead- ers of the Communist Party and well-known members of the John Reed Club—artists, writers, cartoon- ists. If may be that not all of them will actively participate in the work of buildnig the “Pioneer.” It is clear, however, that a high standard of quality has been set, and that the utmost importance and responsibil- ity of forming the class conscious- ness of proletarian children is fully recognized. The first issue shows an earnest thoughtfulness and regard for the balance and thematic arran- gement of the magazine. ‘The May issue should heartily en- courage the “Pioneer” staff. It is a boon to the thousands of workers who have often felt the lack of pro- letarian literature for their children. The outstanding virtue of the “Pionser” lies in its lack of “sectari- enism.” Its appeal is not only to ‘hose children who have already been ‘rawn into our movement and who “ve already familiar with our funda- ~omtal idezs and slogens; the real cence ef the magazine tes in s appeal to children outside our = “PIONEER” | A Remarkable New Children’s Magazine movement. In this respect the “P'>- necr” is of great propagandist value. The circulation of the “Pioneer” among broad masses of children means winning them te our move- ment and weaning them from the boss-patriotic influences whieh they are subject to everywhere. ‘The stories, cartoons, sport articles, parodies on Mother Goose jingles will appeal greatly to the children. Aside from their high artistic value, they are interesting in theme. The read- ing material and illustrations are very well blended and are saturated with revolutionary class-conscious- ness, while the phrasing is adapted to the natural interests of the young. It is hoped that the May issue of the “Pioneer” will not be one of those By M. L. pes the week a group of pro- fessors issued from Columbia Un- iversity the news that Pulitzer awards had been given to a group of novelists, biographers, historians, Journalists, cartoonists and students. ‘The new was chiefly of interest to publishers who saw certain pieces ef theit property (property is the trade name for anthors) take 4 sudden rise in value; and to the authors who felt themselves touched benifiently by the dead hand of a newspaper-owner who became “great” by offering workers the intimate stor- les of rapes, suicides, and murders to take their minds off the crises, hun- ger, exploitation and unemployment which existed, comrades, even in those dear dead golden days which liberal and “radical” “friends of the working class” prefer to revolution and a workers’ state. But the Pulitzer awards are of in- terest to us too. Whut kind of writ- IN THE SUNNY SOUTH ing kets the mark of greatness in capitalist United States? What kind rare numbers that appear every once in @ great while, but that it will serve as a model to the numbers fol- lowing it, and that the “Pioneer” will become the magazine par-excellence for proletarian children. Adult workers and farmers should spread and support the magazine not only as & duty, but as a beautiful, admirable magazine for their chil- dren. Single coples of the magazine sell for 5c only. A yearly subseription does not run into dollars, but is only 50¢; 30c for a half year. Hail the first issue of the “Pioneer” with 10,000 yearly subscriptions! THE TIGHT ROPE WALKER By MESSIK of history and journalism do the iib- eral professors (who, odly enough, manage to hold on to their jobs in very conservative universities), dis- cover contributions to knowledge? And what in hell do they think Imowledge is anyhow? One of past committeemen once told this writer he had resigned from the Pul- itzer award committee because it was impossible to give the prizes to any but safe writers. Revolutionary books, he noted with some surprise, were not considered at all; and between two contestants, the prize did not go to the “best” but to the safest (to capi- talism, of course), ‘This year the professors—unbiased and scientific to a man—have given us an opportunity to see just how they in the struggle between workers and bosses, and just what their posi- tion is in imperialism’s holy war ‘The prize winning cartoon, first printed in the “Baltimore Sun,” is by Edmund Duffy, and was entitled “An Old Struggle Going On.” It repre- sents one of those tough-looking bol- sheviks with long whiskers and a rather dirty looking smock (very un- like the workers in those Soviet news reels that we see in capitalistic movie. houses), sitting on top of a church and pulling at a cross, which bends but shows no signs of breaking and looks as if it is apt to throw the re- yolutionary worker right off the map. The caption indicates that workers have tried to pull down religion be- fore without success. And that they won't succeed while capitalist armies shoot and “liber” professors have the strength to applaud. An honester title might have been, “Let’s have a good old imperialist war against those 4% By GROPPER Anti-Soviet Liars Get Pulitzer Lollypop Soviet workers who are pulling down thte cross which supports capitalist exploitation along with capitalism it- self.” In case some worker might still misunderstand the pragessors’ stand on war aaginst the Soviet Union, they issued another prize to the infamous Knickerbocker who was.sent by the New York Evening Post to write a series of articles against the US.S.R. and later published them in an in- flamatory volume under the “impar- tial” title “The Red Trade Menace.” The capitalist press, of course, ac- cepts without question these awards, and aids the good cause by giving Mr. Duffy's cartoon and the Knicker- bocker book the widest publicity. Again the workers of this country are offered Soviet “dumping” as the cause of unemployment, starvation, and misery which every worker knows be- long to capitalism alone. So far none of them have commented on the un- deniable fact that many of Knicker- bocker’s statements are pure lies, and that he himself, paid for writing against the Soviet Union, was forced into reluctant admiration for the one country in which the workers rule and in whiich business crises, exploi- tation and unemployment are un- unknown. New Masses, May Issue, Is a Wow! By HARRY GANNES 'HE May issue of the New Masses is a swe}l number and it should draw a wider circle of working class readers. You can feel the magazine becoming attuned more closely to the sharpening class struggle. We miss Mike Gold’s “Notes” in this issue. Certainly there is plenty to write about. There are some very fine stories and articles. ‘“Shan-Fei, Communist,” by Agnes Smedley, a Shanghai newspaper correspondent, brings out the details of the Chinese revolution as it effects the women of China. In the onward sweep of tens of millions of workers in China, in the executions of thousands, we lose sight of the motives agitating the individ- uals who compose the revolutionary mass, The drawings and cartoons, in this issue are worth the price of the ma- gazine. Why they picked the least striking of the drawings for the cover can be answered only by an artist. Bill Groppe: has some walloping car- toons; Hugo Gellert takes a good crack at the Japanese princes; Jack Burck lambasts lynching; Phil Bard is growing up, though you'd never guess he had to by looking at his drawings. Then there is Sogolow, Siegel and Shemitz who always dig their pencils or pens deep into the rotting hide of capitalism. Esther Lowell has an article on California “Justice,” of the Mooney- Billings and McNamara type. “Reparations” by Scott Nearing shows he can make a good analysis of the German reparations problem even if he can’t write a book on imperial- ism with half @ grasp of the problem. It would take too much space here to enumerate the other articles and features that any worker would find ji interesting. Joseph Kalar’s sketch of his miner uncle is a powerful bit of writing. We cannot conclude this review without mentioning Professor Leslie A. White’s speech made at the Cleye- land meeting of the American Asso- ciation for the Advancement of Science. Under the long and highbrow sounding name of “An anthropologi- cal appraisal of the Russian Revolu- tion,” the learned Professor of an- thropology shows a remarkable grasp of the significance of the Soviet Union and the November revolution. His first sentence reads: “The Rus- sian revolution is the most signifi- cant event in modern history.” The professor goes on and tells why, and then shows that capitalism is driv- ing to its end. Every worker will want this to read and to quote in argument. No liberal or capitalist periodical would print the professor's remarks in full. Though it’s not been noised about as much as should be, there is a workers’ cultural movement in the formation on a national seale in the United States. This development can be followed and understood by read- ing the New Masses. The history of all hitherto ex~ isting society is the history of class struggle.—MARX. HOLD THE FOR? We meet today in freedom’s cause And raise our voices high; We'll join our hands in union strong, To battle or to die, Chorus Hold the fort for we are coming— United we are strong. fide by side we battle onward, Victory will come, Look, my comrades, see the union Banners waving high. Reinforcements now appearing, Victory is nigh. See our numbers still increasing; Hear the bugles blow. Through solidarity we triumph Over every foe. Fierce and long the battle rages, But we will not fear, Help will come whene’er it’s needed, Cheer, my comrades, cheer. THE KIO'S GOT TRENT. | MY BED OF BOARDS IN A BLACKSMITH SHOP By JOE PODGORNEY. [ACATION was drawing close, I was not anxious for it to come around, in fact I did not care for the time to arrive. It would be my fourth summer on old Hank's farm, pulling onions at six cents a bushel. It made me sweat to think of it; my mother with her peasant psychology good naturely or, with a firm persuasion would get me up 5 o'clock in the morning, pack my lunch and I'd be on my way with the rest of my school mates from St. Florian’s Polish Par- ochial School, trecking the 4 miles down the railroad tracks, to the farm; now and then I’d look behind me nervously, looking out for express trains that would catch up with us, roaring savagely in our ears. Hank liked us Polish kids, more than the Swedes, Irish or Germans, we worked like hell to the point of shear exhaustion even when now and then any of us would topple over our big bushel baskets he’d come around “so good-naturedly” and pour cold water on our faces to revive us. But like all exploiters whenever the size of onions was in our favor he’d cut us a cent to 5 cents per bushel which seemed to have no bottoms in the long afternoons. After working with all my power I'd earn from 36 to 40 cents for an eleven hour day. At the end of the day I’d come home drag- ging my spine—something like my father from the old Western Steel Car & Foundry Co.; tnree blocks away from the rows of dillapidated wodden cottages. Some of the tougher kids would razz me for being a slow poke. Yes, I was large for 13 years. But altho my frame grew, there was not enough vitality in it, for not much could have been built on a chief diet of black coffee and bread with a little butter once or twice a week, One beastly hot day, when the oni- ons were unusually large, Hank, the fartaw®, Gut us to 4 cents. This was too much. We began to talk strike — just like our fathers in the car shops. ‘We stopped pulling onions. Someone yelled “Strike, strike!” “Strike”, we yelled as in a fist fight. Hank came up: “Who's the ring leader?” “Silence—we want more money”, said Frank, who was more courageous. “You Hunkey s. o. b., if you don’t like it get the hell out quick or I'll break you in two”, he said, as he kicked him a vicious blow in the spine sprawling him over the ground. We jumped to our feet ready to spring at Hank, who sensed that half of our numbers could tear him up. He paid us off and chased us from the farm with a double barrel shot gun. A carnival came to town the week I was fired, the old town of Hege- wisch, in the steel car shop district. My friend, Barney, nagged me the whole day long to get some money. I was at a loss where to get it, for my earnings were sternly taken away by my mother, shrewd in this respect. Barney hinted Jake, the saloon-keeper, where my father had a bigger credit account than with Barney's father, the butcher and grocery owner, as a source, ‘The plan was carried out. Next morning I was violently poked in the ribs with a broom handle while still in my sleep. I jumped up and stood on my feet, looking at my mother with horror. “So you told Jake Ginalski I wanted a quarter till pay day eh? and spent it on the merry-go-round. If you don’t; go before the shop gate and get a job you lazy bugger you have nothing to do in this house.” I donned a pair of overalls with a sinking heart. It was like hearing a life sentence. Once in that mill, no more school for me, I knew. I landed a job threading bolts. Men refused this line of work. It was piece rate and the scale was cut tos minimum. It awed me at first. ‘Yes, now I am # man, I will be able to wear long pants and perhaps get. some money from my mother out of my pay; these dreams entered my head as I left the employment of~ fice on giy way to the forge shop. I would probably meet my brother in the steel car construction depart- ment. We slapped each other on the backs as I sighted him at his two river furnaces. He was 17 years old, very good looking, in spite of his job of slinging 4,000 rivets a day. “Go ahead, Joe, get started,” he yelled into my ear. It was like a whisper, the rattling noise of air hammers drowning any sound of speech. I was threading bolts. It seemed great the first day. I only made a dollar. “You'll get used to it, the family encouraging me and make more.” I kept up somewhat as long as the bolts were small, but later I was put threading big truck bolts, 21-2” x 16.” With all my strength T kept lifting, tightening and push- ‘The modern bourgeois socicty that ‘has sprouted from the ruins of feudal society, has not done away with class antagonisms. It has but established new classes, new condi- tions of oppression, new forms of struggle in place of the old one.— MART~ | ing in at the, whirling bolt, threader. It was suffocating hot from the piles of red hot bolts dumped:in heaps around the machines—brought over from the adjoining forge shop in wheelbarrows“by men only in their trousers and something like a rag which was “ali “Undershirt, dripping sweat, They looked like apes, stage gering under -500 loads of blaine! hot bolts. My mouth would parch from the suffocating heat. I'd go to the water trough, lean over the oozing water from a rustyfaucet and drink. Is seemed as thotigh I drank for hours, until a man from a nearby drill press would Come up, grab me by the hair and yell: “Come up for aty, boy We got acquainted, as he would repeat this many times a day. There were about fifty of us boys, mere children, from 13 to 16 years of age. We were not making enough. We got together and approached the boss for moté money. He promptly fired us. “Come back!” he yelled as he pulled me away fro mthe bunch. “Ill give you a better machine and you'llmake more money.” “No, I want a trans- fer to the blacksmith shop.” I got the transfer—carrying grab iron on my shoulders frém the grab iron te the punching machines. A battle field. must be like this, I thought for several days, passing rows hundreds of feet long, belching furnaces. Bradley hammers clanging at tapping speed. Steam hammers shaking the ground with each blow._ Giant gear wheels of the shearing machines grinding a monotonous rhythm. Now, and then I'd throw the grab iron off my shoulders, slap- ping myself to put the fire from my burning shut, Its catch on fire from sparks shot xffom weldings on ths bradley hammers. This caused great roars of laughter, it certainly was no drama to them watching me jump- ing around as though I was taken with the file At the end of the day my shirt and back looked as though a buck shot struck me from all sides the stinging from’ all the burns would drive me to tears. “Hey; come here,” called Tommy Watkins, the» tool temper, me with a load of grab:iron on my back—why don’t you get a job running a steam hammer!” “Gee that would be great —I thought, sitting on a high stool and only shifting levers; for many days I kept after Jack Edwards the big boss of the Forge department for this job. It was heaven sitting and only shifting levers, banging away on block of hot -steel. smoke and hot scales my face did not matter. Spare moments between would run over-te old Tom who zed me about the Polish priest, cook and the Catholic religion, stubbornly defended them all to merriment of atheist page around Tom’s-anvil. But on through the shop one day Tt wien ed a straw boss, kick a Polak right im the lower spine for not being able te grasp his médiing—carrying iron te the wrong machine. “Can it be something is: finn; about God? Here all the good olaks give so mueh money for *:gs§ and pray all the time and =-> loréver abused by the bose ses?” (To Be Continued) Fu é What the bourgeoisie produces, above all, are its grown grave dig- gers. Its faikand the victory of the proletariat are equally inevitable— MARX, ga RAIS In place of the old bourgesie society, with its classes and class antagonism, we shall have an agse- clatidn, in which the free develp- ment.of each is the condition fer the free development of all—MARX “No one outside of the Utopian Se cialists has even claimed that’ would be impossible to conquer with out opposition, without a dictatorship of the proletariat, and withoat the eed of an tron hand on the old world.” \eND