William Morris agent Abe Lastfogel, as profiled in the April 20 issue, was a far cry from the sleek, well- dressed sharks who rule the roost in contemporary Hollywood. He was a short, overweight man with a cigar positioned in the center of his mouth even when he was speaking. He wore glasses, bowties and sweaters and, in cold weather, long johns which were often visible when he sat, as he often did, with his feet tucked under his chair. As head of William Morris, he pulled in an annual salary of $100,000, considered a sizable haul in 1946 but, even adjusted for inflation, would be peanuts to today’s Hollywood and corporate heavyweights. Among the stars he represented were Betty Hutton, Mitzi Green, Mickey Rooney and Jane Froman. The agency had approximately 1,000 clients in all. When in New York, he and his wife, a former vaudeville singing comedienne, lived at the Essex House. In Hollywood they lived at the Beverly Hills Hotel. He hung out at Lindy’s and Toots Shor’s, boisterous show biz hangouts, where he was known as the quietest man in the room.
Lastfogel also headed the U.S.O. camp show units, which were still in operation in 1946 at 9 W. 40th St., although he now spent much of his time handling his William Morris clients. According to his New Yorker profile, until the fall of 1944 the usual U.S.O. overseas camp show was a variety unit with a comedian, a vocalist, a dancer and a novelty act, such as a magician. An accordionist provided musical accompaniment. Afterwards the U.S.O was sending full theatrical productions, including musical comedies, overseas. Initially there was a twenty-five cent admission charge but this was eventually abolished. Big stars usually performed for free but the other acts received from $50 to $350 a week, averaging $100 a week, good money for struggling acts but far short of the $800-1000 a week an established act could earn in a nightclub or theater engagement. For every star out on tour, there were twenty relative unknowns. The G.I.s sometimes complained that many of the acts were not very good. The performers complained that the G.I.s were a disrespectful audience: to them you either were “great or you stank” said one. Complicating the recruitment of talent was the requirement that all male performers had to have a deferred draft status. While no camp performers were killed by enemy action, 28 died while traveling.
According to the profile, GIs also complained that all the seats up front were reserved for officers while the rank-and-file often were rotated in shifts to the back rows. They also bitched that rear-echelon outfits got the better shows. But seating and schedules were set by the military, not the U.S.O. Although performers were required to stick to scripts that had been censored in advance, some chaplains complained that the shows were smutty. Performers sometimes antagonized their audiences by calling them “boys” or complaining about conditions at home. A few were court-martialed for gambling, drunkenness or other breaches of military etiquette, but all sentences were commuted except for the case of a performer who had become involved in the black market. Lastfogel, who made two wartime trips overseas himself, was satirized under a fictional name in an unsuccessful Broadway play “Common Ground,” about a U.S.O. troop captured by Germans while performing in Italy.