He gave me an astonished look. “Yes, sir. I understand. Let me fill out this registration card and you can sign it. Would you like the bellboy to show you to your room?”
“No, thank you. I can find my way. But you can have Room Service send up…hmm…a dozen bottles of iced Falstaff beer, a large bowl of potato chips and...oh yes, some nuts. Salted nuts, if you have them.”
Sliding the card and room key across the desk, he answered, “Yes, sir. Right away!”
After signing, I took the key and started to walk away, but stopped and turned back to Mr. Hudson. “And newspapers. Please send up the New York Times and your local paper. I haven’t heard the news for a long time. And tell Room Service that I’ll be in the room in ten minutes.”
“Yes, sir.”
Crossing the lobby, I exited briskly through the revolving front door. With the doorman watching, I whistled to my pals across the street and made hand signals for them to join me. Within seconds, they were standing by me.
“What’s up, Dutch?” Kurt asked.
Looking them in the eye, I said in my most commanding voice, “We are all going to walk into this grand hotel together. Then we are going to stroll across the lobby to the elevators. I want you Marines to be absolute gentlemen -- no cursing, no laughing, and no grab ass, just like you’re on the parade grounds for a Saturday inspection. Act like you belong here. Do you understand?”
“What the hell is going on, Dutch?” Hank asked.
“Just trust me a little longer and you’ll see.”
They did just as I asked. We walked casually across the lobby to the elevators, in all our uniformed pomp and splendor. And all the while, I could see Mr. Hudson, out of the corner of my eye, smiling as he watched.
Getting into the elevator, I said to the lady operator, “Governor’s Suite, please.”
“Yes, Mr. Clarke.”
There was snickering and smiles from my guys, but no one said a word all the way to the twenty-first floor.
When the car stopped and the doors opened, the operator remarked, “Just to your left, Mr. Clarke. Room 2102.”
We exited the car and in a flash she was gone. As we walked down the hall, the Comedian started to imitate the elevator lady. “Mr. Clarke, the Governor’s Suite is Room 2102, don’t you know, Mr. Clarke?”
With this, we all started laughing and pushing each other along.
Putting the key into the door of Room 2102, I stopped and turned to the guys. “I have a little surprise for you, boys -- we’re going to have those cold beers, after all!” Opening the door, I let the guys go in first, and then added, “This is all ours until 2100.”
The boys were quiet for the longest moment as they entered the room. Then Jim shouted, “Woo! Look! The room has its own bar…” And then, from Kurt standing by the windows, “And look at this view! It looks like we’re in Heaven!” And finally Hank piped up, as he sank into a chair, “Feel that air conditioning? Here is where I want to stay!”
Walking into the room, I found myself in a space half the size of our barracks. On the left was a long dining table behind which stood a bar with four stools and a mirror that ran the length of the area. On the right, a row of windows was flanked by overstuffed chairs, sofas and small tables. At the far corner was a large upright Philco radio, with a game table and chairs in front. The main salon was impressive beyond my grandest expectations.
By now, Kurt was opening the double doors at the rear of the room. He shouted, “Guys! Come look at this damn bedroom. You won’t believe it!”
We all walked to where he was standing, and found ourselves looking at a room that contained the biggest canopy bed I have ever seen. On one side, a window overlooked the city, complete with a seating area with plush leather chairs.
Just then, Hank’s voice echoed from the bathroom that connected. “Check this out! It’s bigger than our whole latrine -- and there’s a bath tub!”
Walking into the tiled room, I saw a large sunken tub at one end of the room, along with double sinks in the middle and a private toilet room at the other end. The tiles on the floor and walls were hospital-white and Marine-clean.
The Comedian started running the water in the tub, then turned to me and asked, “I wanna be first in the tub. Is that okay, Dutch?”
“Sure. Why not?” I answered.
Walking back into the living room, Kurt grabbed me. With an ear-to-ear grin on his face, he asked, “Dutch, did you rob a bank this morning, when we weren’t looking? How can you afford this?”
“I can’t. My uncle sent me some money. Where we’re going, I’m sure we won’t have much use for it, so why not enjoy it now?”
Just then, there was a knock on the door. The room fell quiet, as if the guys feared that the cops were outside. Grinning, I walked to the door and opened it.
“Room Service,” the bellhop said as he pushed a table-clothed cart into the room. On top was a large bowl full of ice and twelve bottles of beer, another bowl full of potato chips, and a smaller bowl filled with nuts. Folded between the bowls were two newspapers.
“Where would you like this, sir?”
Pointing to the bar area, I answered, “Let’s set it up over there.”
By the time the bellhop was done, all three of my friends had a cold bottle in their hands and were fighting over the church key.
As I walked back to the front door with the bellhop, he stopped and whispered, with a serious look on his face, “Are your friends old enough to drink, sir?”
Smiling back at him, I reached into my pocket and slid a five dollar bill into his hands as I answered, “They are today.”
He smiled and nodded his approval.
That’s how it started, six glorious hours of living like royalty. We drank, we nibbled, we bathed, and we listened to the radio and read the papers. The news from overseas was not good. All of us were confident that we would soon be on some distant battlefield and in some future headlines. We tried to shake off such thoughts, but we all knew what was coming.
I was the last to bathe. When I returned to the living room, I found Jim standing at an open window, dressed only in his skivvies. Kurt and Hank had their heads sticking out of the open window next to him.
“What the hell are you guys doing?” I demanded.
Kurt poked his laughing face back into the room and answered, “The Comedian is pissing out the window, and the doorman and a cab driver down there think it’s raining! Damndest thing I’ve ever seen!”
Shaking my head, I told the guys to get back inside. The last thing we needed was for the cops to be called, or one of the guys to fall out of the window. Their stunt reminded me that, inside these new men’s bodies, they were really just boys…
It was time for food, before we got into trouble. They were still laughing and giggling about the golden shower when I passed around the menu.
Finally Kurt burst out, “Woo! Get a load of these prices. And here I thought the café screwed us, today. These guys are crazy. A buck for a hamburger and two bits for a coke!”
Then Hank added, “Four bits for French fries and six bits for a piece of pie!”
Finally, I broke in. “Look, guys, the meal is on my uncle, so order whatever you want. Forget the prices.