us were going to go to Korea, where the Ninth Corps was, and the other half of us were going to be sent up to Sendai. I knew neither was a good place to go, but that’s all I knew. I hated it. So there I was in Japan in the middle of night; the only guy that I knew there was a guy named Setcher who had joined up with me. Setcher and I were wandering down this road, and I was really not in good shape. Setcher was an interesting guy, but he was nuts. He goes up to a poor Japanese farmer who was riding a horse and says, “Get off that horse. I’m going to ride that horse. We’ve won the war.” I said, “You can’t take the guy’s horse. He’s a farmer and you’re crazy.” The poor Japanese guy got off his horse, stumbled around and bowed, and handed Setcher the horse. I said, “Have you ever ridden a horse?” And he said, “No.” I said, “What are you going to do with the guy’s horse? Someone is going to kill you for this.” Setcher couldn’t ride a horse; he just wanted to take it with him. I finally talked him out of it. That was the quality of our armed corps. Later on Setcher ended up going up to Sendai… without a horse. I finally made it to camp. It was cold; it was awful. They gave us a little blanket, and we were basically sleeping outside. It was the middle of the night, and I had just fallen asleep when the loudspeaker came on, and this voice said, “Private Scheimer report to headquarters.” It was three o’clock in the morning, and they had announced my name. The worst thing in the world is for somebody to know your name in the Army. They had my name. I was afraid they were going to shoot me about that damned horse. I had been with Setcher, and I figured they probably got him already. I was afraid they were going to think I was a horse thief too! So I went up to headquarters and banged on the door, and a voice said, “Come on in.” Herbie Stein was sitting alone looking at papers. Herbie and I had been very close friends from the time we were five years old. He said, “What in heaven’s name are you doing here?” I said, “What do you mean?” He didn’t know that I had enlisted. I said, “I joined after you did, Herbie.” I suddenly realized that Herbie was drunk. I never knew Herbie to drink. I said, “What 18
LOU SCHEIMER: CREATING THE FILMATION GENERATION
are you doing?” He said, “I’m drinking booze, and you’re a lucky son of a bitch. I’m in charge of telling you where you’re going to go to serve out your term here.” I said, “You?” He said, “Yeah, that’s my job.” I said, “Herbie, what am I going to do?” He says, “You’re going to go to Tokyo. You might even get into the Honor Guard for the general.” He was talking about MacArthur. He told me that was the only place he could send me, but first I would have to go help at the Japanese finance department. Well, I didn’t want to be in the Honor Guard and wear those shiny helmets and look like a statue, so I knew I had to do something. We spent a couple of days at the station before being shipped out again, and in that time I found a newspaper called the Pacific Stars and Stripes. I thought maybe I could work there; maybe they needed an artist. the Stars and Stripes had a headquarters on the second floor of a building near the Imperial Palace, which was where MacArthur’s headquarters was. The first floor was a Japanese newspaper called the Tokyo Times. It was published in English and actually had been published all through the war in English. It was also near a railway station, and there was always a train passing or noise from drunken Japanese wandering about because there were also a couple of booze places right next door. So, I got there and walked up to the Stars and Stripes offices. I knocked on a door and this guy answered. I said, “Who do I talk to about getting a job?” He said, “Are you crazy?” I said, “I don’t think so.” He said, “You don’t walk in here and get a job; this is the Army. You apply, and you go to see the head of your unit.” And I said, rather cockily, “That’s too bad. I’m really pretty good.” And he said, “What do you do?” And I said, “Well, I’m an artist.” I was not an artist. But I was as good as anyone that they had there. What I didn’t know is that they had lost their artist! The guy in charge of the art department was named Blackie—a really nice guy. He previously had a guy there doing all the art material for him that had to be done, including a daily cartoon. I said, “I’m the perfect guy for that!” And I got the job! Stars and Stripes was a daily newspaper, plus a Sunday edition,