place of the whores as the primary source of contagion were young girls, some only twelve to fourteen years of age.
Labeled “good-time Charlottes,” “patriotic amateurs,” or “khaki-wackies,” these girls, the Norfolk chief of police testified, were “unable to resist a man in uniform.”
Margaret Smith was horrified to learn of the steps being taken by law enforcement officers to “control” venereal disease around the naval base. Civilian curfews resulted in the arrest of women “with no visible means of support,” leaving it to the police officer to determine if the women were “promiscuous.”
Between sessions, without telling her colleagues, the congresswoman slipped away to inspect the Norfolk jail. After her visit, she held a press conference and stated that she had seen ninety-one women and female teenagers at the Norfolk jail held in a crowded space meant for twenty-five. Filthy mattresses and blankets were on the dirty floor. There was one toilet.
Smith angrily told reporters that the females sometimes had to wait weeks or even months before being sentenced or released. Most of the younger girls had been picked up when they were alone on the street trying to find a brother or boyfriend, she said. A few married women told Smith that their Navy husbands had been sent overseas. Bored, lonely, worried, they went out unescorted and were arrested for being “promiscuous.”
Despite bold newspaper headlines across the nation resulting from the Norfolk hearings, the congressional subcommittee accomplished nothing. Although expressing concern for the increasing number of teenage “patriotic amateurs,” Navy and Norfolk authorities privately held to the belief that arresting and detaining “promiscuous women” was the only practical means for controlling venereal disease. Certainly the 80,000 Navy men in Norfolk on weekends couldn’t be put in jail. 3
A Hollywood Victory Committee
W HILE AMERICA WAS MOBILIZING to confront the extreme dangers to her freedoms, requests for Hollywood stars to appear at bond rallies and other patriotic functions across the land began pouring in. Consequently, a Hollywood Victory Committee of leading lights in the movie industry was formed to coordinate these activities.
Appointed chairman of the Screen Actors Division of the organization was thirty-nine-year-old Clark Gable, one of Tinsel Town’s brightest stars, who had skyrocketed to global fame in his role as Rhett Butler in the classic Gone With the Wind. He was known as the King of Hollywood.
Hundreds of enthusiastic members turned up at the Hollywood-Roosevelt Hotel for the first meeting of the Victory Committee. All the big names were there: actors, actresses, producers, directors, and studio heads. Gable made a stirring speech, calling on each luminary to pledge his or her support to the war effort.
Earlier, a few hours after the Japanese sneak attack, Gable had fired off a letter to his friend at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, D.C., offering his services and those of his movie star wife, beautiful Carole Lombard, in “any capacity.”
In due time, President Roosevelt replied, expressing his gratitude for the offer, but reminding Clark and Carole that entertainment was a vital factor in wartime morale. They could serve the nation best by continuing what they were doing in Hollywood, Roosevelt stated.
With the arrival of the year 1942, Clark Gable was scheduled to begin shooting Somewhere I’ll Find You, with Lana Turner. Before reporting on the set, however, he flew to Washington and buttonholed another friend, the chief of the Army Air Corps, General Henry H. “Hap” Arnold.
Gable pleaded with Arnold to “get me off the sidelines,” and put his stardom to use in some productive endeavor. The general echoed what Roosevelt had written earlier.
Gable flew back home deeply disappointed. Carole thought he should promptly receive a commission. “She won’t settle for anything else than a