me.”
Now she was smiling at me. “Walk? Taxi? No one walks in Hollywood, and cabs are harder to find than apartments. Come on. I’ll drive you there while we talk about getting you a car.”
She drove a 1940 black Buick two-door. It was a luxurious car and still smelled new. On the way, she asked if I could afford a car and, if so, what my budget might be. With the war on, only used cars were available, and even they could be hard to find, but she had a friend who might be able to help me out.
I told her that I had no idea what cars cost, but that I could afford whatever she thought was reasonable.
She turned to me with a puzzled smile. “Really? How refreshing. I didn’t realize Second Lieutenants made that kind of money.”
Looking back at her with a grin, I said, “You might call it an enlistment bonus my family gave me. Whatever you think is fair will be okay with me.”
When we pulled up in front of the Brown Derby restaurant, I started to get out of the car, but Maggie reached over and touched my arm, stopping me. When I turned back to look at her, she remarked, “Break a leg, Dutch. You’re going to be great at this job. I’ll see you later.”
I returned her smile, slid out of the car, and watched her pull away. Maggie was one amazing and resourceful lady, and I could see why she was Colonel Ford’s secret weapon. The only thing I didn’t understand was the ‘break a leg’ part.
The Brown Derby could only have fit into the fantasy world of Hollywood. Part of the building was shaped like an upright derby hat some three stories tall, fashioned out of brown-painted concrete. It was a bizarre-looking structure, with a blinking neon sign on top. Walking through the main door I thought, If this is where the celebrities and politicians hang out, my country is in trouble. A stuffy-looking man, dressed in a tux, guarded the dining room entrance and looked down his nose at me as I approached.
“May I help you, Lieutenant?”
“Yes. I’m here to meet Colonel Ford for lunch.”
“Colonel Ford?” He paused, looking uncertain, then said, “Oh, yes. Mr. Lennie Ford. He’s at his table.” He snapped his fingers.
A waiter appeared and was told to take me to Mr. Ford’s table in the California Room. This particular dining room was located under the concrete derby. The room was massive, with tables on the main level arranged around a small dance floor and bandstand. The second level was three or four steps up, and had rows of tables with white linens and silverware. All of them were taken by people drinking and talking.
The last level up had a long row of leather booths, all facing out into the room. Here I found Colonel Ford sitting alone, in uniform, sipping a martini. As I slid into the booth, the waiter handed me a menu, which I placed on the table.
“I hope I’m not late, Colonel.”
“No, you’re fine. I got here a little early, to go over your 214 file. Did you have any trouble finding the Derby?”
“No, sir. Miss Meede drove me…or is it Mrs. Meede?”
“It’s Miss. That was nice of her. I was afraid you might get lost in such a big city, after your year in the wilderness. Someday you will have to tell me why any young man would waste a year of his life living in a rainforest, like Tarzan.” He nodded at the menu on the table. “You better take a look. It takes forever to get chow here.”
“Yes, sir.”
Looking at the items offered on the menu, I couldn’t help thinking that the boys back at Camp Pendleton would have loved this place. The Derbyburger was two bucks, and you could order it cooked or raw! I had never seen food or prices so outrageous.
As I was perusing the list of options, a distinguished-looking gentleman approached our booth. “Lennie? Is that you? I’ve never seen you in uniform. You look grand. You should do it more often. Are you coming to the premiere tonight? If so, let’s have a drink afterwards. I have a project you might find interesting.”
“Yes, I’ll be there, Harry. See you after the show, at Carmen’s.”
Nodding approval, Harry continued on to the next booth, to talk to the people at that table.
The Colonel turned to me. “That’s Harry Watt of RKO. He always has a project he thinks I might like, but all the scripts so far have been about the Navy or the Army. He just doesn’t understand that a film about Marines is the only project I’m interested in.”
The Colonel did look good in his uniform, with his silver oak leaves and four rows of colorful battle ribbons on his chest. But these awards weren’t just colorful; they told me the measure of the man. I could make out the Navy Cross, Bronze Star and Purple Heart, to name just three of the twelve. Those ribbons were only given to men who had performed with courage in battle. He and they were impressive.
Just then, the waiter appeared to take our order. The Colonel ordered his ‘usual’ and another martini, while I ordered the Cobb Salad, with an iced tea.
The Colonel glared across the table at me. “I don’t like to drink alone. Have something stronger.”
“Yes, sir.” Turning back to the waiter, I amended, “I’ll have a Falstaff beer.”
The waiter disappeared as quickly as he had come.
Looking back at the Colonel, I commented, “They all seem to know you here, sir.”
“They should. I have lunch here two or three times a week. Hell, I was here the first day it opened, back in ’26. I even helped convince Jack Warner to put up the money to expand the place, a few years back.”
“They seem surprised to see you in uniform, sir.”
”Yeah, the clowns around this town think a uniform is something you get from the wardrobe department. But enough about me. Let’s talk about our mission, and how you’ll fit it.”
Thus began my briefing about our mission and what the Colonel expected of me. The bottom line was that roughly twenty million people went to the movies, each week. The four major studios -- MGM, Paramount, Warner Brothers and RKO -- produced over two hundred feature films a year, to satisfy this audience’s appetite. In 1941, only a handful of those films had been produced with a military story line. This year, 1942, over thirty-five productions would deal with the war, and the Colonel speculated that in 1943 that number would double or triple.
It was our job to make as many of these films as possible have a Marine theme and, when they did, to make sure the depiction was accurate. To accomplish this mission we would wine and dine the studio big shots. The Colonel would do the actual wining and dining, while I did the leg work and follow-up.
Another part of our mission was to stage public relations events with a variety of celebrities and Marines. Those events would be covered by the press and could help with recruitment. As a case in point, a week from Saturday, the USO Hollywood Canteen would have an ‘All-Marine Night.’ The Canteen had already had All-Navy, All-Army and All-Air Corps nights, so this would be the first for the USMC. The party would be hosted by a movie-star-turned-Marine by the name of Glenn Ford, along with any other top celebrities we could enlist. The hosts would entertain and serve the men, while cameras documented the party. Footage of the event would end up in
