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Page 7 of 28 |
Early Exploits: |
Walt in France |
Walt and his pals from the Ambulance corps
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His memories of the trip overseas again betray the mindless
sense of indestructibility that is the special province of the young.
"We were sleeping down there in the ship and there was a lot of TNT
and everything," he said, "It could have blown us up any time. . .
'We said, Gee, this is thrilling!'" On December 4 -- just a day short
of Walt's 17th birthday (when he would actually catch up to the age
on his passport), Walt arrived in France. The next day, by way of
initiation, Walt's friends held a big birthday bash for him at a bistro
in St. Cyr. The wine flowed like wine. But when the time came to pay
the tab, Walt discovered that he was all alone. His limited resources
were drained to pay for his own party. Walt was soon transferred to
Paris. He made deliveries, and chauffeured officers there. In off
times, he played poker, developed his life-long addiction to cigarettes,
and wrote letters home -- including many to Beatrice.
One of the most persistent myths about Walt
Disney is that he was dishonorably discharged from the Army.
Notwithstanding the fact that he was never in the Army, and was most
certainly not discharged from it, the origin of that story most likely
lay in an incident that happened to Walt a few months later. Here
it is, in his own words, although somewhat abbreviated: |
It was in February. . . They sent me with a white truck.
I was the driver and I had a helper. A white truck loaded with beans
and sugar to the devastated area in Soissons. Well, I went out of
Paris and it started to snow. I got up part way and I burned out a
bearing on the truck, close to a watchman's shed.... So, the orders
were never to leave your truck. Sugar and beans were gold. So, the
helper was supposed to go, and I'd stay with the truck. There was
this little watchman's shed. . . And I sat with the watchman. I sat
two nights and no help came. So, the third day I was so tired,
so sleepy, that I left my truck and walked up to this town and ordered
a meal. Then I got a bed and I flopped into this French bed. And I
slept clear around the clock. "And then I went back and my truck
was gone. . . I didn't know what had happened. . . I got a train
into Paris. When I got into Paris, I found out the story. This helper
got into Paris and went out that night before he reported to the headquarters.
. .. and got drunk and he was drunk for two days. Then he finally
reported and he came to find me. I was gone and he picked up the truck.
So, I was court martialed. They brought me up before this board, and
. . . the greatest disgrace would be to be kicked out of the Red Cross
you know. . . "Then this fellow that I had worked for. .. came to
my defense. . . He was almost like my attorney He said 'Look, this
boy sat there for two nights.' He said "What happened to the helper?'
He said, 'Have you court martialed the helper?' They said, 'Yes.'
He was in the brig. So, they let me off."
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Walt and his truck, on which
he had drawn a caricature
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Before leaving France, Walt poses
in uniform with his friend Russell Maas
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Nothing quite so dramatic happened to Walt the rest
of his time in France. He did, however, make a few dollars with his
art work, creating decorations for the men in his outfit. Ultimately
he worked with a somewhat dishonest young fellow who sold faked "sniper"
helmets to Americans. His job was to shoot bullet holes into new German
helmets he had somehow procured. Walt's job was to paint them with
fake camouflage colors and then bang them up to make them look like
authentic, battle-scarred helmets. It was fortunate that Walt was
able to make some money this way; the cartoons he was sending home
to magazines were being rejected as quickly as he sent them. When
it was time to come home, Walt stocked up on blouses, French perfume
and other presents for Beatrice. But when he arrived back in Chicago,
he discovered she had gotten married while he was away -- and had
never mentioned a word of it in her letters. "I never even went to
see her," Walt recalled. "I gave the blouses and perfume and all the
presents to my sister-in-law. I was through with women."
Elias had found Walt a great job at O'Zell.
"I said, 'Dad, I don't want that kind of a job.' And he says, 'Well,
what do you want to do?' And I said, 'I want to be an artist.' And
my Dad, he just couldn't buy that thing. He thought that was a very
risky thing to go out and do something with that." But Walt was adamant.
He described his reaction as "pulling stakes" and moving to Kansas
City. |
Walt moved back in to the old family home on Bellefontaine,
with Herbert and Roy, while he tried to get a job drawing for the
Kansas City Star. That didn't work out -- but he did get a job
at the Pesmen-Rubin Commercial Art studio. When Louis Pesmen offered
the eighteen year old a position drawing horses, cows and bags of
feed for farm equipment catalogues, Walt was so happy that he didn't
even ask about a salary (as always, that was the last thing on his
mind). The first week at his drawing board he worked his head off.
On Friday, when one of the bosses approached him, Walt was afraid
he was going to be fired. Instead, he was told he'd be getting the
grand sum of $50 a month. "I could have kissed him," said Walt.
While at Pesmen Rubin Walt made friends with
a quiet, talented young man named Ubbe Iwwerks (who was later to change
the spelling to Ub Iwerks). Walt took many things away from his first
job; confidence in his drawing skills among them. But perhaps most
important was his relationship with Ubbe.
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Walt (top right) and Ub Iwerks
at the Pesman-Rubin Commerical
Art Studio
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