- BOTTOM OF THE BARREL -



WWII Experiences

THE FUNITURE SALESMAN FROM TENNESSEE

Would you believe that King and I were at the "Eternal Flame" of the French Unknown Soldier’s Tomb in the Arc-d’Triomphe” ("L'Etoile" - as the Frogs all call it -sorry 'bout that, but remember 'age has its privelieges')- the very first day it had ever gone out! King and I had gotten a long awaited joint furlough to Paris I think it was in the summer of 1946. The day we got there (King was from Tennessee – an archetypical redneck I had acquired as buddy back in our new outfit) something had gone wrong with the flame mechanism and Voila! – Poof! No smoke, no flame. Mon Dieu!

What a commotion! It had the makings of a potential riot, since we both (innocently) had on our "ETO jackets" - and these had ETO (European Theater of Operations) or "SHAEF" patches on the shoulder. This patch was sort of a blue shield affair, with a rainbow above it, and an upraised flaming torch - a motif repeated in the design elements of this very tomb under our feet, and from which, in fact,


SHAEF Shoulder Patch
Eisenhower's Staff had directly modelled their version to be worn by all the troops of the "Allied Expeditionary Force" (so I have heard since). The French bystanders all remarked this - and us - standing in the crowd of gawkers. I THINK what was getting nosed around was that we were being sized up as sent to "repair la lumen" whatever - as there was much pointing and gesticulating at our patches and jabbering. You know it was kind of like having the Maytag man show up just when your washer kicks out... Why would we be fortuitously there just when the flame blew out – with its very emblem on our sleeve – unless we knew just how to set it to rights again...

I said to King, "Let's get outta here, King." King never had any original ideas of his own anyhow, so he said..."Okay". (This just reminded me of one original idea he had later that night - and I will tell you soon). Anyhow I said "Let's get on this Metro of theirs and go to the Louvre!"

"What's a Louvre?," said King. I said, "Well I dunno - I have read abut it and it is a big Museum that is very famous sort of."

That satisfied King, so off we went. When we got there I remember there were a whole bunch of half-opened packing cases all over the place: they were just bringing back lots of stuff from Goering's digs in Germany and all over Europe where the krauts had stolen all this plunder a few years before. We went up this big flight of stairs, and there before us at the top was the "Winged Victory of Samothrace" - I remembered it from the flyleaf of one of my schoolbooks.. "King!" I said, "Look! There is the real original Winged Victory of Samothrace!"

He didn't seem much impressed. We wandered around some halls with Greek and Roman statuary - in and half-out of straw-filled crates - then King wanted to go drink. He had had enough. He said, "Bernie - what's so great about all this stuff anyhow? Most of the arms are broken off and everything. Like that Winged thing you liked..." I said "Well, King, these got busted off in antiquity lots of them - and often the conquerors did that and so on."

"Bullshit," said King. "It was those lousy kraut Nazis - that's what it was. I wouldn't give a nickel for the whole works!"

There didn't seem a whole lot by way of counter argument I could offer (this will surprise many of you I know, but I was only 18 you see). Drinking seemed an agreeable next pursuit so off we went. And met some more buddies in a bistro, etc. King went off with one group and I went on with some others. Later that night I got back to the Hotel L'Bohy Lafayette (something like that name I dimly recall it - right down the hill from Sacre Coeur - the big cement church.) I went up to our room intending to sprawl on the bed and sleep it off. In this I was to be thwarted: King was already there - sleeping on the floor. There was hardly any furniture left in the room and the mattress had been removed from the bed!

I finally shook out of King what happened: our room you see was on the second floor and the windows opened right out over the Boulevard. A street lamp came right up under our window. An enterprising bunch of Frenchmen had climbed the post earlier in the evening, and hailed King who was in the room. Like I say, he never had an original idea - this might indeed have been his only one in life... but somehow these Frenchmen and King despite their language barriers and all - had managed to "strike a deal" - and King had sold all the furniture (or most of it) out the window to his new found trading partner on top of the lampost - who passed it all back down a stick at a time to his colleagues in the street!

So I took off my boots and stretched out on the floor like King. As I dozed off I made a mental note that King was going to stand us treat for tomorrow and a few days after that too - being as how he had so suddenly come into such a fine fortune and all!



Scrape Here for more 'Barrel...'