Personside - 192

Storm P.’s pianist og partner

Storm P. medvirkede i flere andre film hos Nordisk, men holdt derefter en pause i filmarbejdet til omkring 1913, hvor han blev engageret af det nystiftede Dania Biofilm Kompagni, som forlaget Gyldendal var parthaver i. Man skulle i gang med at indspille en eventyrfilm, som var en dramatisering af H. C. Andersens eventyr ”Lille Claus og Store Claus”. Eventyret var blevet bearbejdet til film af Gyldendals daværende direktør, forfatteren Peter Nansen (1861-1918), mens instruktionen var lagt i hænderne på skuespilleren, teaterinstruktøren og forfatteren Elith Reumert (1855-1934).

Valdemar Willumsen havde rollen som Bedstemor.

Men med denne film var det foreløbig slut med Storm P.s filmkarriere. Herom har han bl.a. udtalt:

”Filmede,” sagde Storm mange år efter, ”nej, vi filmede ikke, men vi lavede levende billeder. En dag fik jeg at vide, at nu skulle vi ha’e en instruktør. Så sagde jeg farvel til de fem kroner som var honoraret for at male dekorationer, slæbe kostumer i sporvogn fra Casino og spille hovedrollerne!”

Amerika

Det fremgår indirekte af de anførte dagbogsnotater, at Storm P. og hans partner, pianisten Valdemar Willumsen, havde planer om en Amerika-turné med deres varieténummer "Willum and Storm Music-Comedy - Merry Makers".  Amerika stod for dem begge, som for så mange andre danskere på den tid, som de store muligheders eventyrlige land, hvor man kunne realisere sine drømme og idéer. På grundlag af, hvad Storm P. havde læst om Amerika og hørt af dansk-amerikanere, der var hjemme på besøg i deres gamle fædreland, følte Storm P. sig beslægtet med den specielle blanding af crazy humor og tårevædede sentimentalitet, der kom til udtryk i amerikanske blade og film. Derfor gjaldt det om at komme af sted snarest muligt, og Storm P. havde da også nogen tid i forvejen tegnet udkast til plakater, som skulle bruges under Amerika-turen.

En af de første dage i august 1919 afsejlede Storm og Willum med Amerikabåden United States fra Københavns Frihavn med kurs mod New York.. Rejsen varede i to uger, og om ankomsten har Storm bl.a. fortalt følgende på sin egen specielle måde:

”Mit koøje vendte mod kysten syd for New York, da skibet lå stille og ventede inden vi nåede indsejlingen, der bevogtedes af damen med faklen. Jeg troede, at vi var kommet til Rungsted kyst, så smukt var det syn jeg så gennem koøjet.” (Note 18)
 
Direktør Jens Bing, Storm P.-Museet, har telefonisk meddelt mig, at Storm P. medbragte sin allerførste lille tegnefilm, "De tre små mænd", på den Amerika-rejse, som han havde stillet så store forhåbninger og forventninger til. Dokumentationen findes i henhold til Jens Bing i Storm P.’s dagbog fra rejsen. Men i øvrigt fremgår det tydeligt af Storms udtalelser til bl.a. pressen, at han faktisk havde drømt om at skabe sig en international karriere som bladtegner, især med tegneserier som netop "De tre små Mænd og Nummermanden". Når dette så var lykkedes, ville han og Willum søge at få engagementer med deres kombinerede tegne- og musik-nummer i de store varietéer og music halls. Og selvom det ikke direkte fremgår, er det vel tænkeligt, at Storm P. måske også drømte om en karriere som tegnefilmproducent i Guds eget land. Når alt dette først var lykkedes, ville Willum og Storm P. med familie slå sig ned på Long Island i nærheden af New York. Men det skulle alt sammen komme til at gå helt anderledes end håbet og forventet.

Det viste sig nemlig meget snart, at Storm P. var inkarneret københavner og at han ikke kunne trives ret længe ad gangen uden for Sokkelund herred. Desuden var han ikke velbevandret i hverken det engelske eller amerikanske sprog, hvilket snart viste sig at være en stor hæmsko, fordi han i reglen måtte benytte sig af Willum som tolk. Det betød noget i forhold til de amerikanske medier og offentligheden, som selvfølgelig ville se og høre ”giraffen” selv og ikke hans stedfortræder. Derimod kunne Storm P. bedre udfolde sig, når han optrådte for dansk-amerikanere, som jo for manges vedkommende endnu ikke havde glemt at tale og forstå det danske sprog. Denne del af Amerika-turnéen blev da også nogenlunde vellykket, fordi der overalt, hvor Storm og Willum optrådte, var fulde huse og dermed økonomisk succes. Derimod var det ikke altid, at det dansk-amerikanske publikum forstod at værdsætte Storm P.s særlige form for humor.

Men selv om Storm P. trods alt havde en del succes under sin og Willums turné rundt til de store amerikanske byer, så kunne han alligevel ikke i længden forlige sig med den amerikanske mentalitet og livsstil, da han først rigtig lærte den at kende. Den forekom ham kynisk og umenneskelig. Han blev derfor snart ked af Amerika-opholdet og længtes hjem til sit daglige, fredelige arbejde og sine kære.

Turnéen var begyndt og endte i New York, men da Storm og Willum i slutningen af oktober nåede tilbage hertil, var der imidlertid udbrudt havnestrejke. Det betød, at hjemrejsen til København blev en del forsinket. Men endelig den 6. november kunne Storm notere i dagbogen: "6. Nov. Sidste dag i New York. Imorgen Kl. 7 rejser vi til Philadelphia og så - Farvel Amerika - men ikke på gensyn." Lørdag den 9. november afsejlede passagerskibet "Frederik den Ottende" fra Philadelphia med København som destination.

Fra Minnesota's Greatest Generation: Share Your Story, written by Kathleen Carlson.

Earl Willaume Nielsen was born 6 October 1923, in Fairmont, Minnesota, to Emmanuel Karl Adolf Nielsen and Anne Knudsen Nielsen. He was the fifth of nine children. In adulthood, he stood about 6’2” tall. He was of Danish descent, and proud of it, but more than that, he was an American. He served as a medic in the 90th Infantry Division, 359th Battalion, “B” Company and was in the initial wave of troops to attempt to struggle to shore at Utah Beach on D-Day, 6 June 1944.

It was early spring in the year 1939. The ice was beginning to break up in the lakes. Little streams and brooks were beginning to ripple toward larger bodies of water. In these lakes and streams fish, fat, lazy walleyes were beginning to move upstream to spawn in the low-lying marshes. Nothing seemed to be more fun and carefree to me, a boy of 16, than to be the first to trap these helpless fish on their way to the “back-waters”. The grown-ups, however, seemed to have more serious thoughts on their minds. I could not quite understand the serious look on my father’s face or the worried one on my mother’s as they listened day after day to the news of the war clouds that had gathered in Europe. Then came the day that Hitler invaded Poland. The look on my father’s face became grimmer. The one on my mother’s more worried, for had not my father spent much time in Europe in World War I and been wounded in the fighting? Did they not now have two sons who were “draft” age and three more sons who would, if the conflict lasted over a period of years, be caught up in it too, in the event that the US would be involved?

Defense plants were beginning to produce materials used in war. Two brothers went to work at an aircraft plant in Chicago. In July of 1941, I joined them, leaving behind the $.10 per hour job of weeding onions to a job in the aircraft plant, making attach angles for bombers, for the unbelievable sum of $.72 per hour. My first paycheck came. This was more money than I had ever seen. It meant being able to buy the clothes for myself and younger brother and sisters. It also meant being able to buy furniture for my mother that she could never afford. There were weekend trips home—away from the noisy city and factory to the quiet country of Minnesota.

I was now of draft age but had been deferred several times because of my work in the factory. When my younger brother (Arnold) received his draft notice (“greetings”), my protective spirit was aroused, and after much planning and discussing, I decided to enlist and go with him. We would always stay together whatever happened (we thought). I quit my job and the day soon arrived when the two of us waved “good bye” to our family from the windows of the old bus, loaded with other young fellows going to Ft. Snelling (Minnesota) and our induction exams. Soon we were standing in line, he in one line, and I in another. We had decided no matter what the doctors asked about, we would tell them we were perfectly OK. For one reason or another, my exam lasted longer than his, and when the doctor wrote “physically fit for military service” on my record, I was officially a member of the US Army. My brother did not fare so well, however, for on his paper the doctor had written, “NOT fit for military service”. It is hard to describe the feeling one has at a time like this. I, who had twice been deferred, and could, no doubt, have been deferred indefinitely, now was in the Army, and he, who had no such deferment, was free to go home and do what he could in the war effort. There was no turning back for me now, and I realized this more than ever as the old bus turned its way southward and headed for Albert Lea, bearing with it my youngest brother and a few others who were not to see military service. One bright thought that cheered me somewhat was the fact that I had had experience in the aircraft work, and surely I would be sent to the Air Corps, possibly to help repair planes damaged in combat.

So, appropriately enough, on 3 July 1943, I was enlisted in the US Army. Basic training was at Camp Barkeley, Texas, and 12 September 1943 through 5 January 1944, was spent in desert maneuvers at Camp You, (Desert Training Center #3, California Maneuvers), Needles, CA...

I married Lillian Unterseher on 13 February 1944, in Trenton, New Jersey. From 5 January to 14 March, I was based at Ft. Dix, NJ. A short honeymoon it was, as I was sent to Camp Kilmer, New Jersey, on 14 March, and then to England 23 March, arriving 5 April...

My military record from this point has been reconstructed almost entirely from personal accounts, as my military records were destroyed by an accidental fire in the St. Louis, Missouri, records repository in 1973. We were the 359th Battalion of the 90th Infantry Division. Our division and our battalion spearheaded the way into the Norman country; through the bunkers and beach itself...

I took part in the invasion of Normandy Beach on 6 June 1944, but not as an aircraft repairman. I was a medic with an infantry battalion (90th Division, 359th Battalion, “B” Company). I was in the initial wave of troops to attempt to struggle to shore, cross the beach, and scale the cliff-like bunkers...

On or about 11 June 1944, I was wounded in action, possibly near Pont L’Abbe. I was sent to England to recuperate, where I met the Smythe family of Blackpool. I have many stories about the time I spent in the home and company of the man I describe as “my dear friend” Jack Smythe. After my recuperation, I was made an MP, a job I intensely disliked. Soon after an altercation with “regulations” (and those who enforced them), I was sent back to the front...

It is a medic’s job to take care of the men in his platoon. My platoon consisted of machine gun men, BAR (Browning Automatic Rifle) men, and regular rifle men. I ran with them, walked with them and crawled with them. I had a very dear chaplain that worked very closely with me. My job was to come to each man when they hollered for me. I could hear these boys scream for me over all the gunfire, and all the commotion. It’s something that you never forget. It’s a terrifying thing. You wonder, what happened? How did he get hurt? How bad is he hurt? The odd thing is that it doesn’t make any difference how old a man might be, or if he might be married and he might have two, or three or four children, and been married for quite some time. When he gets hit, he will call for his mother. He will revert back to a little boy again. They don’t call for their wife, or children, they call for their mother because she is the one that has taken care of him ever since he was a little baby. I often thought of this and I often breathed a word of prayer for these boys that were going through this tremendous pain and agony.

My job was to stop the bleeding and fix them the best I could and call the litter bearers, the litter bearers would then take them back to the aid stations to get further help. If it was a leg or an arm blown off, or a part of his body blown away, put on a compress or tourniquet, apply morphine as rapidly as possible and if at all possible, get some blood plasma. I always carried a razor knife with me, to cut off their clothing, on their shoulder or hip area to get morphine to them immediately, to relieve some of the pain. With a flame throw case, or with a leg or an arm blown off, I have gone as high as three grains of morphine. I had two jugs that I carried with me constantly. One was powder, and one was distilled water. I would put them on top of a rifle stuck in the ground. Two needles went in between the two jugs. Then I could drain the distilled water into the powder and this made our blood plasma...

My wife often asked prior to going over for the 20th anniversary, what was it like? Because many times I would wake up, not so much anymore, but before, my pajamas would be soaking wet from sweat and I’d be shaking and it was just like I was back in combat again. This scares you. You wonder why that your memory keeps bringing this back to you. Many doctors told me, “You must forget.” but I’ll never forget the boys I left behind. This was the tremendous price we paid...

After many months in Army hospitals in Europe, I was given an honorable discharge on 4 June 1946. My life then settled into a more regular pattern of work, relaxation, and my ever-present heart problems, caused by the injury related above. For a time I worked with my brother Arnold (Barney), and father Emmanuel as plumber/electrician in Willmar, MN. I then moved to the Twin Cities and began working for North Central Airlines, the company I worked with until my retirement in 1965. In early 1965 I underwent open heart surgery to repair the structural damage done during the war: The surgery was a success, but a problem with rapid heart pulse (tachycardia) continued to plague me.

In the fall of 1977 Earl began experiencing pain in his leg. This was an unrecognized sign of the cancer which spread throughout his body, causing his death on 8 September 1978. He is buried in Albert Lea, MN.

Fra Dansk Biografisk Leksikon:³

Gerstenberg, Heinrich Wilhelm Thuerecht, 1844—1912, Officer. F. 14. Aug. 1844 i Hohn, Hütten Amt i Slesvig, d. 21. Marts 1912 i Kbh., begr. sst. (Garn.). Forældre: Herredsfoged i Hohn Herred Carl Franz Ernst Christian Vilhelm v. G. (1802—56) og Elise Marie Bartholin (1818—70). Gift 23. Febr. 1880 i Nyborg med Johanne Sophie Winsløw, f. 18. Okt. 1859 i Nyborg, D. af Premierløjtnant, Landinspektør Frantz Ludvig W. (1831—64) og Sophie Henriette Schalburg (1834—1905). Ægteskabet opløst.
G. gennemgik Reserveofficersaspirantskolen ved Infanteriet 1863 og udnævntes ved sin Genindkaldelse s. A. til Sekondløjtnant i Krigsreserven, deltog i Forsvaret af Dybbølstillingen og dernæst af Als, hvor han 29. Juni faldt i Fangenskab. Efter Krigen var han hjemsendt indtil 1866, da han optoges i Hærens Linie, blev Premierløjtnant 1867, gennemgik Officerskolen 1868—70 og blev Kaptajn 1880, Oberstløjtnant 1893. Som Premierløjtnant og Kaptajn havde han været til Tjeneste ved Fynske Brigade og 1. Sjællandske Brigade, henholdsvis som Adjudant og Stabschef. Allerede som Løjtnant i Nyborg studerede G., der var et betydeligt Sprogtalent, russisk Sprog og Litteratur og ledede senere, navnlig efter en Tjenesterejse til Rusland 1888, en Række Kursus i Russisk for Officerer af Generalstaben, Artilleriet og Ingeniørerne. 1900—03 var han ansat ved Generalstaben og Stabschef ved 2. Generalkommando fra 1901 som Oberst, 1903—05 Chef for 1. Regiment, blev 1905 Generalmajor og Chef for 2. Sjællandske Brigade, afgik 1909. Han havde været Medlem af forskellige militære Kommissioner og ledede gentagne Gange samlede Øvelser.
G. gav mønsterværdige Oversættelser af Tolstoi, Korolenko, Lermontov, Tschekov, Gogol o. a. og skrev instruktive Arbejder om russiske Forhold, bl. a. om Kosakvæsenets historiske Udvikling. Han var ogsaa en ivrig Botaniker og skrev en Del om botaniske Emner, i det hele en begavet, kundskabsrig og mangesidig interesseret Personlighed, som Officer og foresat særpræget og temperamentsfuld, retliniet og helt igennem en brav Karakter.

R. 1887. DM. 1896. K.2 1903. K.1 1908.

Maleri af Hans Henningsen 1912 (Fr.borg).

^{Ill. Tid. 18. Juni 1905. Folkelæsning 12. Sept. 1909. Berl. Tid. s i . Marts 1912.}

Rockstroh.