Saturday, February 25, 2023

WAR COMES TO HOLLYWOOD

 

The glitz and glamour of Romanoff’s, the place to see and be seen in the golden days of Hollywood, was not bulletproof during World War II. My muse transmits to my blog from the ethers an imaginary tale reminiscent of Los Angeles’ vulnerability during the war. It happened on February 25, 1942 -Linda Lee Greene Author/Artist

 WAR COMES TO HOLLYWOOD

 “For several weeks, I had been hard at work on a film in Hollywood for MGM in which I played a battered secret agent in a World War II spy film. I came to Hollywood from cattle country originally. I was a bona-fide cowboy in those days—horse, ten-gallon hat, spurs, and sidearms—the whole rig. I got it in my head that I could rake in some real dough as a stunt man in Hollywood, so I packed my meager belongings and headed farther west. Things went well for me in Tinsel Town as a stunt man, and before long, I got actual parts in movies, speaking a few lines and sometimes kissing a girl. I was tall and blond and smooth-faced, and the studio heads took notice when fan-mail started showing up for me. It was a natural transition for me from bit player to Matinee Idol. I capitalize the term because Matinee Idol meant money, big money, and sprawling houses and pricey cars and expensive dames—lots and lots of expensive dames.

            “There were marriages in between—marriages to two of those high-priced dames—boring, soul-robbing marriages. Not only did they empty out my bank accounts, but they sucked me dry in just about every other way you can imagine, and it showed—on my face, which is the curse of any Hollywood player. My boudoir-days were over, at least on the silver screen. I was lucky to evolve from Matinee Idol to character actor, but still getting top billing and good money, most of the time. My older, craggy face fit in just fine as a saddle-worn but quick-draw sheriff in Westerns, the big, tough guy charged with saving the town and the girl from the bad guys. And then the war created a whole new genre of films in which ‘aging actors’ like me could go on working, hopefully all the way to retirement.

                                                                              


“I was at Romanoff’s that Wednesday night of February 25, 1942, slugging back scotch and avoiding chit-chat with my famous peers. Barbara Stanwyck and Robert Taylor slipped by. I raised my glass in a curt hello and then turned back to my serious drinking. I didn’t like Romanoff’s much. There was a phony and irritatingly glitzy air to it, phony and glitzy like its owner and founder, one Prince Michael Dimitri Alexandrovich Obelensky-Romanoff, nephew of the tragic and safely dead Tsar Nicholas II of Russia. The real deal was that the prince was one Hershel Geguzin, native son of Lithuania and not a royal bone in his body, who landed by boat as a child in Brooklyn, and then to Cincinnati as a fully-grown pants presser named, Harry Gerguson. His arrival in Hollywood as the Russian Prince Romanoff was a story of make-believe to rival anything immortalized on film by Louis B. Mayer. Anyway, I was at Romanoff’s to meet a girl, or at least, I hoped to meet a girl—the girl—I was damn well convinced of it. Trouble was, she wasn’t convinced of it at all.



“I had met the sweet young thing, Adele was her name, a few months back at Perino’s. She was a model—tall and slender and well-formed in all the right places. On a regular basis, Alexander Perino, an Italian immigrant rumored to have Mafia ties, pushed back the tables of his fine-dining, Hollywood restaurant and featured fashion shows. The sweet young thing slithered out in a silky floor-length getup one evening, and slipped straight into my heart. I corralled her to my table and spent the rest of the night fighting off every other guy in the place. I did learn that like most beautiful females in La La Land, she lived for the day she could leave the runway behind and mount the film set. She was from a small town in Ohio—had made it to first runner-up in the Miss Ohio Beauty Pageant a couple of years before. I pointed out to her that Hollywood was overrun with former beauty queens aching with the same dream, girls busting tables, ushering at theaters, and changing dirty diapers on rich people’s kids. A few months down the road, I asked her to marry me. She looked me straight in the eye and replied, ‘No way!’ But I wouldn’t give up. I couldn’t give up!

“For those of you who think that nothing happens in Los Angeles but sick Hollywood marriages, divorces, trysts on casting director’s couches, and wild-fires, let me take you back to the clear moonlit night of Wednesday, February 25, 1942, the place I began this story. In case you haven’t put it together in your mind, while all the hanky-panky was going on at Romanoff’s and Perino’s, and other Hollywood hotspots, the United States was into World War II for nigh on to three months following Japan’s bombing of America’s Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. Nipping at the heels of Japan’s warmongering, Germany and Italy got in on the act and declared war on the United States, too.

“In fear of an attack on mainland United States by Japan, the early months of 1942 found the nerves of the populace of west-coast America as tight as a bow string. People were on their last nerve when on Monday, February 23rd of 1942, a Japanese submarine surfaced and shelled oil installations at Ellwood, California, located about 2 ½ hours north of Los Angeles—plainly, the worst fears had come true: Japan had brought the war to California. But the war was the last thing on my mind. I was going to bed this gorgeous female and make her mine.

“She finally showed up that night—very late and very standoffish in a whole new way. By that time, I had sobered up and wanted nothing more than a pillow under my head. We did have a drink, though, and then left the restaurant together. As soon as we stepped out into the moonlit night, I looked at my watch. It was precisely 2:17 AM. I’m going to look like roadkill tomorrow, I said in my mind. I had a 6:00 AM makeup call and it wasn’t a foregone conclusion that I would be in any shape to show up for it. I walked her to her car and she leaned back against the driver’s side door. ‘We need to talk,’ she said to me. She reached into her little purse, extracted her silver cigarette case, flipped it open, and pulled out a cigarette. ‘You?’ she asked, offering me a smoke.

“I shook my head and said, ‘What’s on your mind, my lovely?’ She placed the cigarette between her lips. ‘The blackout,’ I reminded her.

“She cupped her free hand over the end of the cigarette to deaden its light and then lit it with her silver lighter. Squinting her left eye against the fumes, she drew on the cigarette deeply. A gentle breeze caught her exhaled smoke and carried it away. Her face in the moonlight was the Madonna’s. My heart leaped with love for her. ‘I’m going away,’ she told me.

“‘What?! Going away?! Where?!’

“‘I’m going home. I need to spend some time with my family to get them used to the idea that I’ll leave again when Congress passes the bill that will allow women to join the military. And as soon as it’s passed, I’ll join up. I’m leaving for Ohio the day after tomorrow.’

“‘But, wait! You can’t…’ My words were ripped from my mouth by the earsplitting wail of a siren—one siren, and then two sirens, and then a shrill chorus of screaming sirens from every direction. A group of people ran out of the restaurant, their legs pumping like mad to their vehicles. One of the guys stopped for a second and yelled, ‘We’ve been hit! The goddamn Japs hit us!’



“I looked up, and there it was—an aircraft of some kind hovering menacingly above the city. Searchlights lit it up like a second moon in the sky. ‘Jesus!’ I yelled. I grabbed Adele by the arm and hustled her to my car. The ‘ack ack’ of the city’s defense guns split the night as I steered my car through the dark streets. It was like crazy dodge cars out there. Cars were crashing into other cars, and who knows what else? We made it back to my house in one piece. The conflagration outside the walls calmed down after a while, but we were too keyed-up to relax. I looked for a chink in Adele’s attitude—some glimmer of affection for me—something I could hold on to. But she was as stiff as a statue.

“There was no sleep that night for Angeleños. The morning news was full of updates. Although no bombs were dropped, the city did not escape unscathed. Three residents lost their lives in automobile accidents and two others died of heart attacks. All manner of property was damaged from shells and shrapnel. Many people were injured in various ways dashing about seeking cover—in some cases including thousands of volunteer air-raid wardens who frantically tried to tamp down the impending pandemonium. But, despite all the unfortunate consequences, exhilaration was in the air. The city had met its first taste of war with valor. But soon exhilaration turned to humiliation and then outrage when the Secretary of the Navy admitted that no attack by Japan had actually occurred. He blamed it on citizen jitters. Two possibilities were floated. Either the weird object in the sky was a weather balloon, or it was shell bursts from defensive ground guns that were illuminated weirdly by searchlights.

            I drove Adele back to Romanoff’s. She reached across the seat of my car and kissed me. I watched her scoot out of my car and into hers. She gunned the engine and then sped down Rodeo Drive and out of my life. I knew in my gut I would never see her again. Like a curtain parting before my mind’s eye, I saw that she was hurrying toward a destiny I never imagined for her. She put me to shame. It came home to me what a shallow and narcissistic scoundrel I was. There was something going on that was a whole lot bigger than me, and it was time for me to grow some balls and do my part. I pulled my car out of the parking space and pointed it to the nearest Army Recruitment Center.©  -Linda Lee Greene Author/Artist

 

The above is a work of historical fiction based on the actual February 25, 1942 false-alarm attack at Los Angeles.

 

Images: Husband and wife movie-stars, Robert Taylor and Barbara Stanwyck, Romanoff’s Restaurant circa 1940s, UFO over Los Angeles, February 25, 1942.

 

#Hollywood, #LosAngeles, #Romanoff’s, #MGM, #LouisBMayer, #WorldWar11, #BarbaraStanwyck, #RobertTaylor, #MissOhioBeautyPageant, #WACS, #AChanceAtTheMoon, #LindaLeeGreene

 

***



Amid the seductions of Las Vegas, Nevada, a sextet of opposites converge within a shared fate: a glamorous movie-star courting distractions from her troubled past; her shell-shocked bodyguards clutching handholds out of their hardscrabble lives; a dropout Hawaiian nuclear physicist gambling his way back home; a Navajo rancher seeking cleansing for harming Mother Earth; and from its lofty perch, the Hawaiian’s guardian spirit conjured as his pet raven that conducts this symphony of soul odysseys. It all unfolds in multi-award-winning author, Linda Lee Greene’s novel, A CHANCE AT THE MOON.

A reader says of the novel, “A gripping tale of romance, vices, glamour, insecurities, betrayal, and murder written in a very descriptive and artistic manner which paints a picture of the environment and characters. This was clearly well-researched and possesses a number of facts and detail on topics from uranium to realistic atmospheres.” 5 Stars

3 comments: