We felt the moral crisis of the world that was a
battlefield,
a world that was being laid to waste by the massive destruction
of
a raging world war…it was impossible to keep painting like before –
flowers,
reclining nudes, or musicians playing the cello.
Barnett Newman
On December 7th 1941 ,
Japanese pilots bombed the Pearl Harbor Naval base on island
of Oahu . The same year, the United
States initiated a covert operation to
develop and construct an atomic bomb.
Months
later, Edward Hopper painted Nighthawks,
an iconic depiction of loneliness, and Peggy Guggenheim opened Art of this Century at 30
West 57th Street in Manhattan .
As the
world shifted under Hitler’s Germany ,
reverberations could be felt as far away as Wilkes-Barre ,
Pennsylvania where young Edward's life took a fundamental turn during
an early dinner at his grandfather’s house.
"We interrupt this regularly scheduled program with news that the Japanese have invaded Pearl Harbor..."
Edward, who had for weeks had been contemplating a recruiter’s promise of money for college on the GI Bill, stood up and announced, “I’ll be in that!”
"We interrupt this regularly scheduled program with news that the Japanese have invaded Pearl Harbor..."
Edward, who had for weeks had been contemplating a recruiter’s promise of money for college on the GI Bill, stood up and announced, “I’ll be in that!”
Fueled on beer and whiskey, the family found room to chuckle at the youngster’s readiness
to go to war.
"It’ll be
over before you are old enough to go,” his uncle replied, rewarding his nephew’s
courage with a pat on the shoulder.
But he would show 'em.
Weeks later, Edward marched over to the rail station where his father worked, and with his most courageous stage voice, said, “I feel as it is my duty to represent the Meneeley family in the armed services during a time of war.”
Weeks later, Edward marched over to the rail station where his father worked, and with his most courageous stage voice, said, “I feel as it is my duty to represent the Meneeley family in the armed services during a time of war.”
Meneeley Jr. |
Soon taking the steam train to Harvey’s Lake to swim away the summer or kite-sail over the winter ice would be just a memory…dancing until
collapsing into a hysterical pile with Beverly, his double social life, the
scourge of his step-mother. Warm, lazy
Sundays on New Grant Street with his uncles and grandfather.
Hopeful farewells gave way to tears as Edward Sterling Meneeley Jr.
and Hallister Hogan boarded a train for Samson ,
NY to undergo training and psychological
testing.
But the
entertainment of the young seaman was brief.
Meneeley’s short flirtation with civilian life ended with boarding another
train, this one to California, stamped
non-priority cargo. There were times when the train sat switched-off for
hours while more important materials sped past. The sun’s fierce breathe
grew hotter and drier until the passengers began to ration water.
It wasn’t long before the reigning masculine hierarchy became known.
“Hola Pecker Checker!”
One afternoon, while standing in the doorway to the closet where all the used casts were thrown, Ed stared transfixed. The tangle of white limbs waiting on a
pile to be thrown away struck him with the same emotion he would
later feel while looking at George Segal’s human-shaped sculptures in white
plaster.
As the weaponry of warfare became more sophisticated, so increased the number of complex spinal injuries, all of whom needed four meals a day and constant physiotherapy. Perhaps partly due to the extravagance of the commandeered setting, a large number of hands were available at all times and patients were well looked after.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp5CydJc5Uz5jXQozcjbL0VB5sZkneML7cDPnja9NNBGaPGyb-aWcCjKjRMPAaRCbPtFTk8YlMdA4lLAoGhGg9Quz8u_GGOZdvj833iOFqUNeLGx6La5zgCy0Q0B7jnTuRG3lnX7OPVnso/s200/dancing.jpg)
Although highly unusual, at Riverside female officers outnumbered the men. And many, according to Meneeley, preferred
the company of enlisted personnel over their ranking peers, particularly on Ladies Night at the officer’s club. Ed was often invited to dance away his worries high on champagne.
His first morning after, hung-over and dying of thirst (only to drink some water and feel like he was drunk all over again), Ed woke up to the prodding of the same group of nurses he had spent the night partying hours before now full of pep and happily going about their morning routines as usual.
Stealing
him immediately away to the linen closet, the nurse shook him by the shoulders,
“Look, you have to go back there and finish up!
There’s no one else.”
Due to Riverside's proximity to Hollywood , some show
business personalities, like comedian Red Skelton, sometimes stopped in and told a few
jokes. Ed remembers Danny Kay dropping by to play a few tunes on the piano.
Long after
the Japanese surrendered, Meneeley and other medics remained working to strengthen
their patients, hoping to build them up in order to go home. Slowly, wives, mothers and sisters worked
their way to California to visit
their loved ones in the hospital. The war was over, but the medical staff knew they wouldn’t be discharged until
their patients had all become stabilized in VA hospitals, private care, or indicated
a living infrastructure strong enough to deal with local hospitals as
outpatients.
The Navy’s lease on the country club was winding down and patients trickled slowly back to civilian life.
The hospital
finally closed and the grounds refitted to a
place of private escape for privileged citizens of suburban Los
Angeles . In the
meantime, Meneeley was sent to San Pedro where he waited for his final discharge. His service to the country waning, he often
took night liberty to explore greater L.A. On his frequent bus excursions, Meneeley began
to realize his uniform was seen as a symbol of many things. Some days, he was patted on the back and
thanked for his service to his country.
Another day, without warning, he was groped by a random man beneath a
newspaper.
2
Boot camp began
with the usual physical rigors. Running,
push-ups, discipline. The shaping of the
soldier. But what was most incredible to
Meneeley was the food.
While most recruits
botched at the mess hall, Hal and Ed approached the chow line with dropped
jaws. They had never seen so much
food. Equal amazement came with the
realization they could eat all they wanted, just as long as they cleaned their
trays.
One of the few boys in the shower without pubic hair, he was referred to as “the chicken.” After a medical
examination, Meneeley was diagnosed with malnutrition and received corrective surgery to
remove teeth abscesses. Deep within a morphine stupor, Ed
envisioned his step-mother hosting Eastern Star meetings wearing jeweled
tiaras while hushing the kids onto the back porch with the same plain old tomato
sandwiches.
His body
replenished and back on track, Meneeley displayed an aptitude as a marksman and
was put in charge of a dozen rifle ranges. In this position, his bossiness thrived under
the auspices of others’ ineptness to hit the targets. Ironically, the less proficient trigger fingers only created more work for him repairing the blasted sand piles.
Throughout
training, Hal and Ed bunked together and shared work details. The pair made a pact back home in Wilkes-Barre to always
stay together other, but after Meneeley contracted pneumonia, Hal moved
on without him, graduated, finished leave and went off to yeoman school. Two weeks later, Ed followed.
3
While on
leave, Meneeley’s two-timing friend Dave introduced him to his pair of young
ladies. While Viola was technically Dave's “girlfriend,” he was seeing another more libidinous young lady on the sly. Taking it upon himself to entertain whichever
young lady was free at the given moment, Ed’s dual short flings helped fill
in the gaps missing from his experiences with his stepsister.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGTeyAetq0eUBHzGUj6BFG2yHrzGt1ysUZp5ojkgUcKyCc9XT04x47452ddWC2dxNROGSRegfQSkDHe8YEdlLjJnEN5S_8NZHjUb4kXqUX4bZFGk_KMjbEp9XJZDkt4FhJNwjzrLqImMMF/s320/lined+up+for+war.jpg)
Sometimes, when stopped for long periods, local women approached from the horizon of flat farmland
with baskets full of sandwiches and sodas.
Ed remembers reaching out the window to receive the offerings, but never
being allowed to disembark. The women seemed accustomed to the idea, knowing
the trains would be there, perhaps en route to reinforce their own family
members stationed far away from home.
“There was
a sense of people taking care of their troops,” Meneeley recalled, “Though at
that time I wasn’t fully cognizant I was a troop until medical training began
and broken soldiers appeared.”
In a time
before air-conditioning, the dry heat of the cross-country trek invited most of
the men to air out their shirts, which often made it difficult to discern
commanding officers. One particular night,
Meneeley was assigned car duty and remembered being forced to grapple with an
un-uniformed officer for not saluting.
“You aren’t very attentive,” the officer scolded him, reversing his choke
hold. “People could sneak up on you and stab you in the back!”
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUuwc6ZkhvKdgQ_E20Hx5vErESKljO-0GUre9MFl9zJO7PooO37tto3oNNJ5X8N5F8ioNdJjr214l-jk_tday4-68KZvPdP4TsSIo-VwDUdWoeHgB7NF1KMGIYGROequ4_i2NyXQY-5pSU/s1600/monkey+bars.jpg)
Sufficient “uncles” yelped and gasping for breath, a strange sensation came
with a troubling realization that the officer was a Marine.
Upon
arrival in San Diego ’s Balboa
Park , Meneeley took up residence in
a make-shift village of tents. Before
long, intense classes began punctuated by loudspeakers
mounted in the trees spewing a never-ending broadcast of pharmaceutical
formulas. Even the
occasional Sunday matinee began and ended with educational programming. Day after day. Relentless. When it was
all over, Meneeley took the Hippocratic Oath.
As his name was read, he administered his first inoculation to the person beside him, plucking his skin in a ceremony of sterilized water. A few fainted and fell out of line.
As his name was read, he administered his first inoculation to the person beside him, plucking his skin in a ceremony of sterilized water. A few fainted and fell out of line.
Soon after
the onset of active duty, an ominous realization set in: Navy medics shipped
out with Marines.
4
Prior to
1942, Southern California ’s Rancho Santa Margarita y Los Flores was a rough and ramble 123,000
acres of pristine, potential energy. War
fervor an undeniable impetus, today it is one of the largest U.S. Marine Corps training
grounds in the country, Camp Pendleton . To Meneeley, in his newly starched uniform on
a bus bound for the Navy Hospital nestled deep inside the sprawling military
complex, to get there was to arrive in a sort of prison.
It wasn’t long before the reigning masculine hierarchy became known.
“Hola Pecker Checker!”
Marines commonly derided
their Navy counterparts, especially outside the hospital and after driving two
hours into town for a few drinks. Interspersed
with mischievous laughter, Meneeley recollects:
To the Marines, we were all sissies…until
they had some type of medical problem.
Then they couldn’t do enough for you—buy you beer, act as
bodyguards. One somehow got the use of a
convertible, so we picked up some girls, driving to a hillside where it was
like Lovers’ Lane. It was my first
encounter with a rubberized girl. She
acted like she wanted to put out, but she wore a girdle and none of us could
figure out how to get the damn things off. Later we’d get back to base and still
be horny. And without air-conditioning, everybody
slept buck-naked. You can imagine what
kind of scene the combination of those factors late at night played in the
overall tinderbox of what was going on sexually at that time….
5
Meneeley’s first
assignment was the tuberculosis ward and required a tedious routine. Prior to his shift, he changed clothes in the
vestibule, putting on a clean smock, mask and gloves
before performing his rounds. Once
complete, he took everything off, showered and put back on his regular uniform. Periodically he was tested to make sure
nothing got into his system.
To clear his head, on weekends Ed and others took liberty in Tijuana where muchas chicas bonitas danced
and servicemen drank tequila into a state of hyper-sobriety.
Surviving
his stint with TB patients, Meneeley’s request for transfer was eventually
approved. Orthopedics was an entirely
different animal, one often met screaming in pain with the onset of broken
limbs. Nonetheless, at least his patients now had
room for rehabilitation and the opportunity existed to forge more hopeful connections
with other human beings.
![]() |
George Segal 'Holocaust' |
“In those days," Meneeley said, "They had just come out with pre-moistened plaster bandages, so you didn’t have
to go through the trouble of taking
gauze and making plaster and mixing it together and putting it on. In that closet, as in Segal’s work, I
witnessed the broken’s desperate longing for life.”
Despite these
new awakenings, Ed jumped at the opportunity to escape when he noticed a bulletin seeking volunteers
to work with paraplegics coming back from the war.
6
The
barracks in Riverside California were fit with
all the trappings of Hollywood glamour in a beautiful
hillside resort. Effectively a country
club leased to the Navy as a temporary hospital for paraplegic patients,
Meneeley’s new station was an all-go situation in which the surgeons, nurses
and staff had to be available for around the clock care.
As the weaponry of warfare became more sophisticated, so increased the number of complex spinal injuries, all of whom needed four meals a day and constant physiotherapy. Perhaps partly due to the extravagance of the commandeered setting, a large number of hands were available at all times and patients were well looked after.
As a small
indulgence, Meneeley sneaked a suitcase record player into the
barracks. During night duty, he often listened to soft music during breaks in the ward
kitchen. Attracted to the
sound, patients sometimes woke up and hung out, even sat around and had a few cocktails
of Coke mixed with ethyl alcohol.
Back in the
barracks, as an initiation rite, a newcomer’s first cocktail often came with
the hidden ingredient of analysis dye, causing their urine to glow hot
pink. Another common trick involved pouring raw ether on each other’s sleeping bodies, which felt and flowed like ice but also provided enough delay for a culprit to
get away before the victim jumped up and screamed.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp5CydJc5Uz5jXQozcjbL0VB5sZkneML7cDPnja9NNBGaPGyb-aWcCjKjRMPAaRCbPtFTk8YlMdA4lLAoGhGg9Quz8u_GGOZdvj833iOFqUNeLGx6La5zgCy0Q0B7jnTuRG3lnX7OPVnso/s200/dancing.jpg)
His first morning after, hung-over and dying of thirst (only to drink some water and feel like he was drunk all over again), Ed woke up to the prodding of the same group of nurses he had spent the night partying hours before now full of pep and happily going about their morning routines as usual.
“Look,” Meneeley
said, “I feel like shit. How are you all
up bouncing around when you drank just as much?”
One finally admitted, “We always
take a fistful of B vitamins before going to sleep.”
7
Finishing
his night duty stint, Meneeley’s first daytime assignment made him responsible
for between 5-7 patients. While relieved
of the graveyard shift, his new role took on more direct responsibilities, including
having to control when his patients ate.
Because they had no control of their bowl movements, Meneeley was responsible
to remove the waste.
On his first round, a nurse instructed him how to insert a catheter, as well as how to lubricate a rubber-gloved hand to remove colon waste from a patient’s anus before it became toxic and poisoned their bodies. Before the conclusion of the first demonstration, Meneeley vomited.
On his first round, a nurse instructed him how to insert a catheter, as well as how to lubricate a rubber-gloved hand to remove colon waste from a patient’s anus before it became toxic and poisoned their bodies. Before the conclusion of the first demonstration, Meneeley vomited.
![]() |
Marlon Brando in The Men |
This was
his indoctrination. Reflecting on this
moment, Meneeley considered the role cultural conditions of his upbringing played
in his reaction. “It was all
bullshit!” Meneeley screamed, pounding his fist on the table, knocking my tape-recorder
to the floor. “This person was not going
to call you a shit-digger! He was
relying on you for an essential function of life support. The bonding, the intimacy of the situation
once you got past the surface details, it was…incredible.”
After overcoming
the repulsive reflex of his new assignment, Meneeley settled in helping to make
his patients as comfortable as possible to build back their strength.
One of his most
notable patients was Herbie Wolfe, a quadriplegic who served as gunner on a
destroyer commanded by Admiral and Film Director John Ford. According to Wolfe, Ford led the crew of his
ship like he led his film crews, taking a special interest in each crew member,
and often sent Herbie weekly stills from films he was working on, including My Darling Clementine. This attention piqued Wolfe's interest in the cinema, so Ed often wheeled him to
the hospital’s upholstered movie theater to watch the daily changing features.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxLDgRoVOMYtHY9GRiXnXzcbxPWQ7X_hPAo7aK0Qydv0vBf6hyphenhyphenBApEpMgjX62yMf3TnzaBtNyaMH8GmlI3TBP2dLX7bmD3dDWyQWT88YYp9fs-YST3ufaWcXMEOefby4BNpe7hK9Rg9hWg/s1600/the+men+poster.jpg)
When a
close friend of Admiral Ford, Fred Zimmerman, got set to direct The Men, he hired Herbie Wolfe as technical advisor in what
would become Marlon Brando’s first film.
Only 2 years younger than Brando, Ed watched the young actor learn how to spin a wheelchair around from some of the most
proficient, massive upper-bodied patients. Refelcting back on this time, Meneeley marveled at how his life was certainly turning
out a lot different than he previously had imagined back in Wilkes-Barre .
“For two
years I had no communication with my father and step-mother. We worked hard,
cleaning, bathing, treating bedsores, lifting spirits," he recalls. "I became a totally changed person."
Such experiences away from home debunked most of Ed's ingrained cultural prejudices, landing him in a better position to go with the flow. This attitude would eventually give him access to many major players in the contemporary art world.
Such experiences away from home debunked most of Ed's ingrained cultural prejudices, landing him in a better position to go with the flow. This attitude would eventually give him access to many major players in the contemporary art world.
8
![]() |
Brando in The Men |
In some
cases, families of paraplegics became closer together, others got divorced. Meneeley described how so many young couples embarked upon a very new proposition. While the
men were still capable of having erections, they could not feel them or have
any control over when they might expire.
This forced the ladies to learn a different technique more akin to
artificial insemination than romance to produce children. And once a husband
and wife were forced to confront that adjustment, separation was often
imminent.
In that
sense, Meneeley watched the visitors as closely as his patients. This melancholic undercurrent in the ward allowed for all kinds of restricted activities in which most nurses and staff were aware but kept quiet from the
brass. One example centered around one young,
legless Marine paralyzed from his waist down and severely depressed upon his
arrival.
Meneeley described him as “extraordinarily charming and good-looking, so everybody
appeared taken with the demoralized boy.”
Nurses and
staff conspired in the galley to pool their money and take him to town, but
would later settle with the small victory in succeeding to lift him into a
wheelchair. There he began a series of small explorations around the ward, and soon the young Marine’s world expanded. Eventually he would travel
further, gently flirting with the staff in hopes of going into town, settling
down only with visitations from his mother who had relocated from Seattle
to a local hotel to spend her days with him. In this case, his mother brought in a case of his favorite
beer wrapped in brown paper kept hidden under his bed.
This young marine soon
became a symbol of hope and quickly became the ward’s success story.
While having alcoholic beverages on base was illegal under Navy law, no one on
the ward thought anything of it...until a surprise Saturday inspection when an
admiral noticed the beer and all hell went loose.
While the hospital
had a heavy medical side to it with an attitude akin to the television series
*MASH*, management was handled by officers who, for the most part, kept their
distance. It wasn’t uncommon for two
patients to lure an officer between their beds and use their massive
upper-bodies to swing up and pummel the trapped brass for continuously berating
the broken soldiers. “You want us to
wear proper uniforms! We don’t have any fucking legs!” they’d shout while they
wrestled.
Around this
time the base was getting a lot of attention. Newspapers reported a movie was about to begin filming. Social clubs provided their idea of aid. Movie stars started showing up to entertain
with ad lib performances, or just come and go from bedside to bedside
chit-chatting. Curiosity mixed with pride
on behalf of the upper ranks brought more and more higher-ups in to parade the halls. When the ward received
notification visiting Naval dignitaries were coming, the Head Officer decided
to take it upon herself to make sure her ship was up to shape.
“A case of beer…in a military hospital…what
is it doing here?" the crotchety woman screamed at the nearest nurse, "Which one of you scumbags has been drinking on the ward!”
A sickly
quiet pervaded until the young Marine wheeled himself up.
The terrified
young nurse turned, her mouth dropped open.
“His,” she said.
Meneeley recalled:
They
just took him away from us, psychologically court-marshalling him right there on
the spot. Humiliated, the patient went back to the bed that afternoon and never
got up again. We all found ourselves
having strange bouts of anger. Two
months later he was dead. Perhaps this incident best explains my very
particular attitude toward authority figures.
Sixty years
later, I arrived at Meneeley’s small apartment with a DVD copy of The Men. Ed claimed he had never seen it and I was
excited at the prospect of watching it together. Perhaps he would be seen as an extra, we wondered before settling in to watch. As the opening credits concluded, Ed began to weep and would continue, often hideously, the entire 85 minutes. The morning after his exorcism, I experienced
some of the most lucid moments of our sessions together.
9
Up until the last
patient left Riverside , social
groups visited to encourage patients’ strength, sometimes bearing gifts. One particular day, a small group of ladies
assembled a cadre of remaining patients into the large solarium and distributed
oil painting kits. When Meneeley came
on duty that afternoon, the whole ward reeked of turpentine and linseed oil,
and he became deviously interested.
After many
patients opened up the kits and “smeared around for a while,” Meneeley walked over
to help clean them up, relocating the small canvases and paints under their
beds.
When more inspections
came, Ed took the contraband kits and hid them in the galley, waiting until people
eventually began to forget before smuggling the art materials back to the barracks,
hording the materials after throwing away the boxes.
Lying on
his back, Meneeley painted figuratives, street scenes, and memories of the Susquehanna
River and Market Street
Bridge , envisioning himself like
Michelangelo painting the Sistine Chapel, as he worked on the small canvases
held up under the bottom bunk rack.
Once he finally
received his discharge papers, Meneeley packed up the excess supplies and sent
them to friends in Wilkes-Barre . He also dismantled a metal swivel office
chair during a night shift, as well as an oscillating floor fan, and sent the
pieces home as studio equipment in preparation for life after the Navy.
10
The Navy’s lease on the country club was winding down and patients trickled slowly back to civilian life.
As the
wards cleared out, less people meant fewer regulations. No air-conditioning meant naked sleeping
bodies, prompting someone on a regular basis to sneak in and fondle Ed while he
was asleep. Just before the point of
ejaculation, Ed woke up, but by the time he came into consciousness, the person
had vanished. The first few times Meneeley thought he was dreaming until one
night he pretended to be asleep and identified the culprit through his slitted
eyes.
“I wasn’t
offended by it because the arousal took over the influence of my senses,”
Meneeley recalled, “but it did have a strangeness to it. The next day, I followed
him out of the galley, introduced myself and asked if he wanted to have a few
beers or catch a movie. Startled, without
a word, he ran away.”
Meneeley in WWII Navy Uniform |
“I didn’t
know what to do! Should I get up and scream?
Punch him? On a public
vehicle! Oh my god, I thought, this
is civilian life!”
Just a
couple of days left of out-processing and the upper-level mind-control specialists
took to lecturing Meneeley and his colleagues, praising them on their highly regarded
efforts, reminding them of their valuable service to the nation, filling them
with substantial doses of pride before attempting to hold on to as many of them
as possible as enlisted personnel in case of another national crisis.
“We were
told of plans to wipe out venereal diseases by testing at immigration. Officers
insisted it had nothing to do with politics, only medicine and national
health. The majority thought it a good
concept and agreed, but I wanted no part of that.”
Three days
before his release, Ed was woken in the night and hurried into the back
of a truck full of other sleepy-eyed servicemen. Minutes later, the truck lurched to a start and sped
away, canvas flapping in the wind. From
the higher elevations, Meneeley could see parts of LA in the distance, while a
prevailing sense of urgency provoked thoughts of a mysterious emergency. Radiation spill? Crashed UFO?
When dawn broke, he arrived at the base camp of a war zone, where fires burned in oil drums around a makeshift kitchen. Meneeley was offered soup and coffee before handed a rake and set to work making a fire break.
When dawn broke, he arrived at the base camp of a war zone, where fires burned in oil drums around a makeshift kitchen. Meneeley was offered soup and coffee before handed a rake and set to work making a fire break.
The next two
days passed in a mad dream.
Filthy
mules, BBQ, raking loose leaves and twigs, no sense of location or distance;
air thinned, depth perception skewed.
On the
third morning, he was released and decided on a slow bus ride home to Pennsylvania ,
stopping along the way to explore Las Vegas
before the long southern route across the Texas
pan handle’s abandoned airfields full of disabled bombers.
Back in Wilkes-Barre ,
his Uncle Paul compared a newspaper photograph of the devastatingly beautiful
cloud caused by the plutonium bomb with the actual cap and stalk of the
meirelles he gathered every year in the surrounding forests to make mushroom
stew.
Edward was headed home.
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