What a Con Man I Am

by Lt. James "Grumpy" Smith

A 4-egg omelet with a flame – yes, that’s what I got.  Out of the kitchen came the French chef, carrying a big platter of scrambled eggs.  he struck a match and the eggs were on firs.  He made a big play and ceremonially set it right in front of me.  “Manga.  Manga.” and I did just that.  I gobbled it down.

All the officers in our party applauded and said, “Smitty, you earned it.”  Earned it?  I didn’t earn it – I had failed completely.  I didn’t bring the 6 nurses I had promised.  The food was there, the drinks were there, the “Trio” was playing dance music, but no girls.  They were to be the big surprise – now they’re a no show.

So what ‘s this all about?  (1943 – somewhere near Tunis .)  Major calls.  “Smitty, you’re invited to our banquet free.  OK but we need girls (women).  You’re a young guy.  Your job is to get us some nice girls.”   I’m stunned.  “Where?”  “Nurses”, he says.  He gets me a ___ phone line to the nearest Field Hospital (25 miles away).  I talk to the Super.  I ______ make my pitch by phone to seven girls – you know.  “French Chateau, dine, dance, take you, bring you back, battle vets, haven’t seen a woman in months.”  Whatever it took.  I won’t tell you all I said.  Believe it or not, I got 6 nurses to agree to go.  Did I “con” them or did I!!  The Major and all the officers are happy.  “Great job, Smitty!”

And here I am – arriving almost 3 hours late with no nurses.  “Smitty, what in hell happened?”  They gathered around, all of them a little tipsy, while I tell this crazy story.  “I went to the Motor Pool, got the Command car, drove to the gat, and was stopped.  “No vehicles out ‘til further notice.”  I’m yelling “Let me go!”  It seems that the Krauts were supposed to have dropped parachute soldiers dressed like ours to shoot up our trucks.  No one out ’til clearance given.  I scream, “I gotta pick up these nurses.  Let me go!”  “No.  Are you crazy? You can go, but not the car.” 

I sit by the gate for 2 more hours fuming and fussing.  Finally “All Clear.”  No parachutist.  Where to go?  No question.  I drive like hell to the hospital with little hope.  Super’s angry.  The nurses will not even listen to me, especially when I tell them about the parachutes, which – of course – never happened. “ Ha, ha,” they laugh.  “What a story.”  They say I made up the whole thing.  (The officers are listening and laughing too.)  I try & try, but they walk away.

Now I’m desperate.  So I go to another nurses tent area.  I yell “Girls, girls, listen up.  Would any of you like to go to a French Chateau, dine and dance?  25 officers, an hour’s drive from her, drinks on the house, great fun.  I’ll take you and bring you back.  We’re battle-scarred vets.  Haven’t seen a woman for months.”  Girls stuck their heads out of their tents.  They thought I was hilarious.  A real joker.  But no takers.  So here I am with no nurses.  (By this time the officers realize that my crazy story was true – no more fooling around.)

“Smitty, you did your best.”  The banquet food was all gone but someone talked to the chef – and out came the hot scrambled eggs.  After that I was showered with drinks, so I caught up with all of them.  We had a great time without the nurses.  The owner had to throw us out.

But – just between you and me and that guard post, I was really glad –no, relieved – that the nurses had not come.  I had an uneasy feeling about this Banquet.  The girls, had they come, would have been angry with me because I had deceived them just a little.  They would have expected the officers to be young, like me.  Instead, most of the officers were older me, 40’s – old enough to be the girls’ fathers.  They would have “lit” into me.  So is it any surprise that I enjoyed the evening?  I was off the “hook”.

So, as the saying goes, “All’s well that end’s well.”

© Weston Military History Group, 2004.

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