Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1944)

36 1 KlUU Dick is a backgammon enthusiast. Soon he hopes to forsake pictures for the U. S. Merchant Marine A surprise meeting with a "sur i prise" star, Dick Jaeckel, the baby Marine in "Guadalcanal Diary" BY DOROTHY DEERE j is a morning-paper reader. He's "L.K." (Lotion King) to pals for the many pomades he uses WHEN a producer walked up to Dick Jaeckel, mail boy on the Twentieth Century-Fox lot, and asked him if he’d like to be a movie actor, young Dick answered with what is best described as a hoot. “Me — act? I’ll bet you I could dive through a keyhole quicker!” The producer, knowing no more about keyholes than what he had gathered from Winchell’s column, didn’t want to bet. He was willing, however, to place his money on young Jaeckel as the “baby Marine” in “Guadalcanal Diary.” That “Marine” part was what helped him sell the deal. After due consideration, Dick thought maybe he could act like a fighting man, since he expected to be one someday. They had to be careful with that “baby” stuff, though. Going-on eighteen, he regarded playing the role of a sixteenvear-old as strictly character work. There were things about acting, when he got into it — and especially when he got into the Marine’s tin hat and mud-caked boots — that were not bad at all. There was the day when he lay in a jungle setting, a Marine rifle in his hands, and showed the world how a young American can die — if he has to. There was a bayonet slash that looked real on his chest, sweat and grime on his face, and the tragic un-complaint of youth cut down, in his eyes. After awhile even the other actors — seasoned troupers like Lloyd Nolan and Preston Foster — forgot they were on a sound stage where the slime and dankness and choking growth sprang from a set-builder’s magic, rather than from a lonely, blood-soaked Pacific isle. . . . Dick liked this, because he likes proving he can do something worthwhile, and even though he didn’t realize how really worthwhile his pretending was, he liked the commendation on the older men’s faces. On the other hand, he didn’t care much for the sequence in which he had to pretend to lose his nerve during the bombing. “I’m not saying I wouldn’t be scared,” he said, “but I’ll bet I wouldn’t yell around about it.” Looking at his wellslung jaw and squared young chin, you’re inclined to agree with him. But it happened to be part of the story, and he gave every scene the best he could. And later, when audiences began leafing through the celluloid pages of the “Diary,” they watched those scenes, and he made them know just how it was with all those other fightinghearted kids who have had to go out and learn to be men — the hard way. When the picture was previewed, Dick sat laughing at himself through most of the reels. He thought he was “awfully funny” — and he didn’t mean as in comedy. Without even waiting ’round the studio to see what the score was, he went out and got himself another job. Frantic casting executives who wanted him for “Wing And A Prayer,” found him working at a soda fountain with some of his former highschool pals. He went into the second picture, but next time, he says, it won’t be so easy. If he has his way, the next time anybody comes looking for him they’ll find him in the U. S. Merchant Marine. All of which brings us up to date on Dick Jaeckel, the actor, and gets us started on the rather amazing story of Dick Jaeckel, the boy. The most significant characteristic we can set down to begin with is the fact that he is going to be totally unimpressed with this account. So far as he is concerned, the data contained ( Continued on page 86)