Hero of the Pacific_ The Life of Marine Legend John Basilone - James Brady [80]
“After dinner,” Basilone went on, “we spent our honeymoon night in a room upstairs. We were happy together. Even though it was a rush, I know I did the right thing. I think she felt that way, too.
“We were on the train early next day to see Lena’s people in Portland. The train was hot, crowded and dirty. We managed to get a seat while most of the Marines and sailors on board had to stand. We traveled until late the following morning, over 24 hours, with no place to sleep except our seats. I thought a lot about the fancy private cars and having our own plane on the bond tour. I wished I could give Lena some of that kind of treatment. She wanted the fancy stuff that women want for their weddings and it was a shame she didn’t get most of it. But she didn’t complain, I had to give her that. She didn’t make a peep and I started to feel lucky I married her. That was our honeymoon, a stopover in Los Angeles on the way and a few days in her parents’ home in Portland.”
Back in Oceanside, there were no apartments they could afford, their joint income at that time being about seventy bucks a month. “Lena got pissed off after a few days and wanted to use my name and status to pry open a place to live. I was having none of that. I wasn’t going to trade on the Medal for anything. It wasn’t completely mine anyway. Nine boys also owned it with me. I thought this might be a hard idea for her to understand and I expected we would have our first big fight, but she surprised me again. I said what I had to say about it and we never talked about it again. She was a Marine and she understood what I was saying. It was then that I knew I had married the right one for me. We continued to live in camp in our separate barracks.” So much for romance in the middle of World War II.
When the two wangled a seventy-two-hour pass they took a train north to L.A. with less than a hundred dollars between them, zeroing in on Beverly Hills and places that let servicepeople in without a cover charge. When they fell in line outside a joint owned (or fronted) by a former boxer, a very good light heavyweight turned movie comic named “Slapsie Maxie” Rosenbloom, word quickly got out that the young Marine waiting to get into the place was John Basilone, and a flunky murmuring the words “Medal of Honor” began hustling Lena and John toward the head of the line. But John “wasn’t having any of that,” and he and his bride abandoned the idea of an evening at Slapsie’s and went down the street to a different boîte, named for another comedian, Joe E. Lewis, considered more of a “class place,” where for some reason the young couple was welcomed without incident. Once inside, however, the two Marines found themselves experiencing the same sort of fuss. Basilone sets the scene: “Joe E. Lewis . . . was there. His routine was all about boozing and losing money on the horses. He had almost everybody in the place almost dying with laughter. A few people who said they were somebody in the movies came over to our table and said hello. They left business cards and told me to give them a call. They wanted to introduce me around town to movie people. Joe introduced me from the stage and I had to stand up and