Screenland (May 1943-Oct 1944)

weeks. I thought I was through with all my shots when one day a medical officer said to me, 'How come, Sergeant Autry, you've never had your first shots?' " 'I had them,' I said, 'the very first day I came to camp.' " 'Sorry,' said he, 'we have no record of your having had the first three inoculations.' "So far as the Army is concerned, if it isn't on the records, you haven't had the shots. So for the sake of the records, I had to have the three shots all over again." And so began Gene's life in the Army. Every morning he had to be up at six, like the other men in the Army Air Corps. This didn't bother Gene a bit. When he had been working in pictures, he had sometimes gotten up as early as four or four thirty, so that he'd have plenty of time to be made up for pictures. Of course, then Gene had been able to take his time about getting dressed. Now he had just ten minutes in which to do the job. But Gene has always been meticulously neat about his clothes. So it was no trouble at all for him to get used to keeping his shoes in their proper place in the bunk and to keeping his uniform in good order. No trouble at all, that is, except on a couple of occasions when his bunkmates tied all his clothes into knots. It wasn't so easy to get them untied in less than ten minutes. But Gene learned that this is a gag which is played on almost all Army men; and he was glad he was being treated like any other raw recruit. He found it easy enough to make his bunk, for he had always made his own bunks when he had gone camping. Oh, of course, it hadn't been necessary to be quite so meticulous about it, but Gene didn't mind that. He has always liked to be neat. When he was in Hollywood, Gene had usually gone to a shoe-polishing parlor when he wanted his shoes shined. In camp, he kept his own shoes dusted and polished. Nobody treated him like a movie star, and he didn't want them to. Like the other men, he cleaned and dusted rooms, and went around the grounds picking up cigarette butts, when he was given ground police duty to do. The Army has a way of handling men ■who hate to do cleaning and dusting. Short ly after the new recruits arrive in camp, some old-timer comes along and says, "Have any of you men done office work? I want three volunteers for office duty." Three men will volunteer quickly, sure they're going to be called upon for white collar tasks. And sure enough, they are ushered into an office. But invariably, the office work consists of making the office look spic and span by dusting the floors and washing the walls and emptying the trash baskets. "One thing every Army man hates is k. p. or kitchen police," confided Gene. "That consists mostly of washing and drying dishes and pots. The old-timers always seek some way of assigning the rookies to k. p. And how the rookies hate it ! I always dreaded it, too," laughed Gene. I said, "Didn't your wife ever ask you to help out in the kitchen, Gene?" "Oh, sure," Gene chuckled, "but washing and drying your own dishes is different." Millions of Army men will say "amen" to that. Gene had heard so much about movie stars being kidded unmercifully in camps after they enlist that he wouldn't have been surprised if he had been subjected to that treatment. In fact, he was surprised that he wasn't. There were men from all stations of life in camp, and they saw no more reason for "riding" a movie star than they did for kidding a doctor or a dentist. As long as you are a regular guy, you're okay with them. Some of them told Gene that they didn't resent his being in the Army ; but they did feel a shock at seeing him in a uniform, instead of in the familiar cowboy garb. And most of them showed a tremendous interest in the movie business and in movie personalities. They'd question Gene about how movies are made and about their favorite movie personalities. Every soldier seemed to have a different favorite ; but Gene was asked most often about Clark Gable, Betty Grable, Rosalind Russell and Lana Turner. He has met all of them, and he tried to answer their questions as best he could. "Betty Grable and I worked together about three years ago in vaudeville. We were both making personal appearances. She's a swell girl. I like her looks and her personality. So would you. What does she look like? Exactly the way you see her on the screen. "Rosalind Russell is a very witty, brilliant woman. And she has beautiful dark hair. "I think Lana Turner is twice as pretty off the screen as on. She has beautiful skin, and is a very attractive girl." Gene got his basic training and his drilling, like all the other men in the Air Corps. At first, he was very much embarrassed when he'd find himself making mistakes. A few times he right-faced when he was supposed to left-face, or vice versa. But soon he discovered that the other rookies were also making mistakes. So now he says, "Everybody makes mistakes at first. After a while, you learn to follow the drill sergeant's orders. Drill is like anything else. In order to be perfect, you have to put in plenty of hours. The time comes when you can follow the drill sergeant's orders even when you don't hear every word he says, That may sound funny to a civilian; but the truth is that there is a certain rhythm to the commands, and you learn to recognize the rhythm even when you don't catch the exact words. "This practice in drill makes it possible to move a lot of men in the easiest way. So it is all worth-while." After Gene had been at the Santa Ana Air Base for about six weeks, he was transferred to Luke Field, located in Phoenix, Arizona. His job in the Army Air Corps is a sort of three-fold one. He does public relations work. He arranges entertainments for different camps. And he does one job that nobody else has been able to do so successfully, and that's conducting his Sunday radio program/ which the Army Air Force supervises and which is used to inform civilians about what goes on in the Army Air Force. Long before the war, Gene had a radio program called "Melody Ranch." Today that program is broadcast under the title, "Sergeant Gene Autry"; and the Army feels it is a distinct contribution to public relations. Gene receives no money for the radio shows, other than his regular sergeant's salary. Although the Army hasn't required Gene to do as much flying as he had hoped, he devotes an hour or two every day to flying a private plane. He had a good many hours in the air before he joined the Army; and he wants to continue his flying, whether he is required to or not, so that he will be ready for any emergency. After he had been at Luke Field for some time, his wife joined him. I asked Gene how the Army felt about this. After all, many women wonder whether they ought to follow their husbands to camp. "The Army doesn't object to wives following officers to camp ; in fact, it seems to think it's a good idea. If a sergeant is married, he doesn't have to live at the field, although he has to report there every day." The Army also doesn't object, Gene told me, when sweethearts visit soldiers at camp, if the visit is arranged for beforehand a-d if the soldier is on the job and does it right. I asked Gene to tell me about the food in the Army. "The Army is well-fed. The soldiers have all the butter and meat they want. The finest meat and vegetables are ordered for the Army. Of course, it's up to the mess sergeants to see that it is cooked right. And mess sergeants are like the cook in your own home. If you have a good cook at home, he does a swell job. Sometimes you may not be so fortunate. You may get a cook who doesn't know how to handle vittles. Naturally, the Army tries to have mess sergeants who know their work." One of the Army traditions is to grouse about the mess sergeant. A mess sergeant once told me that if the men didn't complain, Lilian Gish, currently appearing in Columbia's film, "Commandos Strike At Dawn," is besieged for autographs while serving as hostess at the Stage Door Canteen's Commandos Party. 62