Verhovayak Lapja, 1943. július-december (26. évfolyam, 26-53. szám)

1943-10-14 / 42. szám

m

Page 6

BRANCH 372 - LORAIN, OHIO

A DRAMATIC CRITIC’S BIRD’S-EYE VIEW OF THE JACK BENNY SHOW IN NORTH AFRICA

Verhovayák Lapja.

October 14, 1943

Somewhere in North Africa Sept. 17, 1943 Last night yours tally saw

Jack Benny’s show here for the benefit of us G. I.’s, (Soldiers, to you civilans), and it was a very howling, hilarious, success. But I regret to say I did not see the first part of the show, as I was like Chamberlain, I missed the bus. You see, it was not till almost the close of the day, yesterday, that it was announced on the bulletin board that Jack

Benny and Co., would appear in person and persons, at an Airdrome about 18 miles away. X had first read of the announcement at 5:30 P. M., and the truck scheduled to leave was at 6:30 P. M. which stipulated that we must be drsesed in khakies; and your correspondent looked down ruefully at his soiled

fatigues, „and I thought it was no use; but your dramatic critic is made of sterner stuff. I hurried and had my supper chow; than rushed over to the showers via meat-wagon (ambulance to you) ,and took a very cold water bath, shivering away; no hot water over here for us, and the showers are open—no walls, no roof, just the North African wind all around you. I finished bathing rushed back to camp, hurried Into my tent, donned my Army Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes, and was tucking my shirt-tails into my trousers and running out to the truck at the same time. The G. I. truck was already in high gear, tearing down the side road to the highway, with yours truly muttering under his breath threatening dire consequences to the driver for not waiting for me. I was about to give up for the second time; but after thinking over the way I gulped my chow, rushed through the shower, rushed to get dressed, only to miss the truck by 2 seconds, I was resolved to view Jack Benny come what may. I tied my shoe laces, fastened my belt, and trudged down to the main highway, thumbing for a ride, pointing my thumb in the direction of the show.

After a wait of 30 minutes, I was finally offered a ride in a jeep, but good only for 5 miles. Than I got a second ride in a G. I. 2% ton truck, which was good for 7 miles. After walking around in town, trying to get another ride to the vicinity of the show, X was about to give up for the third time; but promptly changed my mind about returning to the base, when another G. I. who was driving a jeep asked me if I was going to—Airdrome, to see Jack Benny show. Naturally I answered him in the affirmative, and clambered into the front seat; and away we went, thankful there would be no more hitching to the show.

Half-way to the show we picked Up another G. I. who was heading In the same direction. We were good Samaritans; and the driver and the new passanger recognised each other in the darkness. They were old buddies in the States. Naturally I was happy about their re-union, but not at the risk of my life and limb; for we were Clipping along at a steady 50 miles per hour in the dark, for there were no lights on our car, due to the black-out. The driver kept turning his head back to we his old cronie, and re-hashing

old times. I just barely made out the outline of an oncoming car ahead, coming straight toward us, and saw we were right in the middle of the highway, instead of our side of the traffic lane. So I promptly and calmly reached for the wheel and turned our jeep on the right side of the road. The other car passed us by with plenty of footage to spare. After that our driver took the hint, and firmly kept his eyes on the traffic ahead.

We finally reached the place where the show was After parking the jeep, I thanked the driver for the ride and separated from his company. I walked over to the multitude viewing the show, which was already in progress. So that was the reason for not seeing the opening part of the show.

After I weaved in and out among the maize of trucks, jeeps, reconns and other sundry vehicles, about a couple thousand of them, I finally reached the rear of the 8,000 Soldiers and Sailors viewing the performance, They were all standing on boxes, crates, trucks, car tops, and all yours truly could see where the broad backs of a few thousend G. I’s. I ranged back and forth among the crowd in order to see the show; (all the while I could hear Benny cracking his puns and wisecracks, but still not able to see him because of the crowd.) Finally, I got up on a 2V4 ton truck and stood up on the seat in the back with 20 other G. I’s; and settled to see the show.

Then your most noble critic gazed at the stage, which to me seemed to be 3,000 feet away; this was the reason for my seeing the show from a bird’s-eye view. But I tried to make the best of the situation. Jack, of Jello fame, was just windig up his skit; and introduced to the audience of 7,999 male “wolves”, excluding yours truly from among that throng of cheering, howling military males, (do I hear some derisive jeers?) Miss Winnie Shaw, who was the only female member of the cast. Allow me to acquaint you with the cast, foUr people, headed by Jack Benny, the would-be violinist of the Waukegan Conservatory of Music, who played “Bethoven’s Bee” some years ago, in acceptance of his old rival and exhorter’s challenge, none other than the Fred Allen, Then there was Miss Winnie Shaw, who used to be a songstress with some nationally-known famous big name band of late, (probably the band and leader were adopted by Uncle Sam for the duration). If Frank Sinatra had the women and girls a-swooning when he sang at the Cleveland Public Auditorium, just think what Winnie Shaw did to 7,999 beating hearts, (again, I exclude myself from the number of 8,000 men listening to her, as I am impervious to such things— do I hear some more derisive jeers?) for she was wearing a nize black evening gown; and her singing of hit songs was excellent indeed. She wasn’t so bad at throwing gags, like our Jello hero, Jack Benny, the would-be- Fritz Krisler of the violin, does on his radio Jello program. In fact, Miss Shaw was most adept in stooging for our most beloved radio and screen gagster; the third person who made up the cast—none other than Larry

Adler, the world s famed virtuoso of the “breeze organ”, harmonica, to you guys and gals; who by the way, isn’t so bad when it comes to throwing gags that seemed at times that he would put Jack Beny to shame. Adler’s repertoire for the evening consisted of his playing “Begin the Beguine”; his next number was Beethoven’s “Minuet in G” (which he played in “C”); next came Liszt’s “Hungarian Rapsody” (every time I listen to the “Hungarian Rapsody” being played my Hungarian blood boils and chills with fervor); but this night Adler played “Hungarian Rhapsody” I shook with fervor due to the evening chill. Then, to warm me up, he went into a medley of the “St. Louis Blues” and “Blues in the Night”. This critic must say that Adler’s playing of the harmonica was most excellent. The fourth and last member of the cast was none other than an obscure pianoist and accordionist, a Jack Snyder; and you may ask; who is he? Well, as Jack Benny said on his first broadcast ages ago: (I quote) “This is Jack Benny talking—who cares?” Well, yours truly repeats: “Who cares?’ We all hope Jack Snyder will achieve national fame; because, we, the public, cared about our beloved Jack Benny; and so we too, can care about Jack Snyder.

I hope you guys and gals under- j stand what I'm getting at. No? j Well, let’s skip it.

As for the gags that Benny, Adler and Miss Shaw voiced around the platform—they weren’t of the calibre that we hear on Benny’s Jello hour, for they wouldn’t be accepted for radio home consumption. The better part of the gags were the kind that if Will Hays, the Movie Censor Czar and his Board had been present, they would have had apoplectic fits—who knows? But the gags were accepted in good spirit by the G. I. audience; in fact, I would say, those Soldiers and Sailors enjoyed every bit of them. (Do I hear anyone inquire if the critic enjoyed the gags? The answer to that is: I have no comments to make on the subject.)

At one time during the show, the would-be Jascha Heifetz trotted out his violin to accompany Adler with a number. His begging finally wore down Adler, and he complied with Benny’s request. I’m sure we all know how well Benny is adept when it comes to crossing the bow-strings; in fact, to every ten notes that Adler played on his harmonica, Benny played one—just a flourish —short but simple, down the bowstrings. No wonder, then, that Adler had refused at first. If I were in Adler’s place, I would have refused to the last. I almost forgot to mention that Benny also requested Miss Shaw to allow him to accompany her vocal numbers with his violin, but Miss Shaw—being made of wise and sterner stuff—refused Benny’s request point-blank.

The High-light of the show was when Miss .Shaw invited a G. I. to come up on the platform so she could sing him a love song. The lucky victim she beckoned up to the stage was a very shy, confused sergeant. She began her number, holding hands with the Sgt. and hugging him to her when she was in the middle of her singing. She ran her fingers through his hair (the Sgt. wasn’t shy any more; in fact, he was enjoying every bit of this); when she finished her number she leaned over and kissed his lips— to the cheer» and envious hoots

of 7,999 soldiers and gobs. Even I, as I watched her kissing the Sergeant could only gasp weakly “Wow!” After which the poor fellow walked dazedly off the platform—almost off into space. I’ll bet the poor fellow still hasn’t washed his face by the time you readers read this column. I can just picture the Sgt. dazedly and blithely falling into slit-trenches and fox-holes that cross his path. Tsk! Tsk! Poor Fellow! He’ll never be the same again.

The show came to an end. Yours truly ran to a track that I had earmarked when I first came into the area; jumped into the cab and sat and watched the next show; just picture 7,999 dog-faoes and gobs running around in the dark between the vehicles—shouting his Squadron or Company number at the top of his lungs, with motors gunning, being put into gear, with hapless groups of G. I’s shouting: “Hey! Wait up for me!” The traffic was terrific. Picture 2,000 vehicles all trying to get out at once. Finally, my truck was filled up with our Squadron comrades in the back, and the driver got into the cab behind the wheel; and we, too.

were on our way “home”. It was pathetic, folks, to see various groups of G. I’s pointing their thumbs to all points west, east, north and south. You see, these boys were like Chamberlain, who missed the bus, they too, missed theirs. According to latest reports, four days after the show, four of our Squadron comrades had failed to return. I believe they are on the main highway, standing beside the road, with their thumbs pointed dejectedly in the direction of our Base.

So ends this critic’s bird’s-eye view of the Benny and Co. show. I believe you know what I meant by a bird’s-eye view? This dramatic critic will refrain from reviewing any more shows in the future; but, on second thought, I may go through all these hectic, harrassing moments again, if Miss Judy Garland were to appear here in person in North Africa.

In closing, after a strenuous evening, your correspondent shouted to our Squadron Medic: “Quick! Sgt. Rosenberg, the Sal Hepatica!”

The End. (Thank Heavens!)

Sgt. John V. Jerkovich

JUST DREAMING

Oh, there’s a land not far from here Where good little GI’s go,

Where inch-thick steaks and gratis beer.

And three-day-pass trees grow.

Where hostesses are movie stars,

And MP’s five-foot-two

Where privates ride in generals’ cars

When there’s nothing else to do.

Where the captain serves you breakfast,

While the top kick shines your shoes,

And the colonel brings your furlough,

“Take two please, if you choose!”

Where the girls line up to meet you And the jive-dives all are free,

Where the ten-spot bushes are in bloom,

Gosh, that’s the place for me.

But, alas my tale is ended,

Yet let’s not be bitter men,

For I’ll see you all in Shangri-la,

Twixt taps and 6 A. M.

—SCOT FIELD BROADCASTER Scott Field, Illinois.

FULL SPEED AHEAD