Page 8 - CINEMARECORD-100

got a mention in the “Herald”, the “Age” and the “Argus”
newspapers. A Digger sitting on an artillery limber with dark
hair and moustache stole the show. He combed his hair down
in imitation of Mrs. Schicklegrube’s son, Adolph, gave the
Nazi salute and the crowd loved it and no-one who ever saw
that march will ever forget "ADOLPH". (And he survived
the war also).
Back in the 1900s, there were 43 pubs in Bourke Street, but
when the World War II got under way and there were
thousands of troops looking for a beer, there were only 15 to
cope with the demand - however they managed. And then,
in late 1941, when Uncle Sam started shipping his "GIs" and
"Gobs" and Marines to Aussie and their eventual targets in
the Pacific, Bourke Street hit its straps in no uncertain fashion
- it was a bonanza for publicans.

The US lads and their large difference in pay to our five
shillings a day, soon made its presence felt. The top shelf
was out of reach for our chaps, and the taxi drivers down here
were no different to their bandit mates in Sydney and
Brisbane and don't let anyone tell you different. As far as
Aussie Forces were concerned, they were vermin (and that's
a mild name for those 'sweethearts').
While the war progressed in intensity, the first of the
Brownout murders hit our city. In fairly quick succession,
Gladys Hosking, Pauline Thompson and Ivy McLeod were
strangled and their bodies left sprawled in doorways and a
park. Near panic hit the streets, which were almost devoid of
lighting - hence the name Brownout murders - and the good
ladies of Melbourne and quite a large percentage of the "Not
so good ladies" of Melbourne and its precincts were terrified
to be out on their own at night.

The miscreant was smartly apprehended by the intelligence
of a young Aussie Guard at Camp Pell, Royal Park - our
version of the Bow Street Runners from Russell: Street. He
turned out to be Private Eddie Leonski from Brooklyn USA
and was tried by a US Court-Martial and sentenced to hang.
Eddie said "cheerio" in November 1942 from the Big Drop
at Pentridge!

But it was his antics in our city which intrigued the local
peasantry. Apart from his ghoulish meanderings, he would
be in the Royal Mail Hotel from Royal Park in minutes and
he'd order his favourite drink - a mixture of whisky, brandy,
gin, creme de menthe, bitters, hot pepper, ginger ale and
tomato and worcestershire sauce, drink this large
conglomeration down, jump up on the bar and walk around
on his hands! When he wasn't indulging in a bit of
strangulation, he was America's best known "Good Time
Charley" on the Bourke Street patch.

The hostelries of Rue Bourke in World War II were the top
meeting places of the Services, including all of our allies and
the "Ladies" of our city. As a lot of ladies, for obvious
reasons, were "at a loose end", they flocked to pubs like
Parers, The Metropole,
The Saracen's Head,
The Royal Mail, etc. Hoyts De Luxe, Bourke Street, c. 1944
because they knew that sooner or "Fallen Angels", "Street Kids" (1936 version), "Sunday Window
later they'd hit the jackpot and meet Shoppers", "assorted drunks", "Windbags" and a jolly evening was part
a nice young fellow who may enjoy of the "Sunday Night Happening" around the titillating tambourines and
tea and biscuits with them (well!) the tootling trumpets.
Of a Sunday night on the corner of Also on Bourke Street and Russell Street were the Hansom Cabs - no
Bourke and Russell Streets in the Silver Tops in those days Baby. These cabs had parked in the centre of
20s, 30s and 40s, a large detachment Russell ever since the 1860s, so you could say they were part of the
of the Salvation Army (bless them) architecture. They were horse-drawn, took two people and the driver sat
would cut loose with the big bass high up at the back and could talk through a small trapdoor to his clients.
drum, the trumpets and the Even in the late 1930s, lovers would go riding in them for a small charge
tambourines and, in no time at all, and I hear tell that they were an erotic way to start/end an evening.
they would attract the Bourke Street

8 CINEMARECORD # 100