[Author/Poet Erich von Neff is a San Francisco Longshoreman.]
Les Six Jours au Vel D’Hiv
Paris 1938
Par Erich Von Neff
Table des Matieres
Prologue
Day One
1. Fat Henry
2. The Hundred Dollar Prime
3. The Sprint
4. Triumph
5. Yeah Babe
6. The Jam Is On
7. The Lap
8. At the Cabaret du Chat
Day Two
9. The Hop Sing Tong
10. Willy the Whale
11. Madame Yang’s
12. Insight
13. The Gatto Brothers
14. The Right Price
15. The Tire
16. Against All Odds
17. Retribation
Day Three
18. Letourner and Guimbretiere
19. Up a Notch
20. The Gap
21. Their House
22. Over the Top
Day Four
23. A Big Prime
24. The Bets Are In
25. Let the Good Times Roll
26. Later Inside the Horch
27. Fini
Day Five
28. Not So Fast
29. Center Stage
30. The Prefect of Police
31. To the Morgue
32. The Scorpion
33. Awakened
34. Thunder
35. Fang Marks Were Left Behind
36. The Transient Hotel
37. A Floating Memory
38. The Silent Fan
39. We’ll Blow the Joint Apart
Day Six
40. The Morning After
41. Get Wise
42. A Damn Good Idea
43. Lights Out
44. At Knife Point
45. Then Flash
46. The Scene
47. This Bullshit
48. Scram
49. The Lament
50. Hey
51. Time is one with Wing
52. Rendezvous
53. Twilight of the Gods
Prologue
Les Six Jours au Vel d’Hiv, 1938
Pearls around her neck
Champagne down her throat
A cheer for Letourner –Guimbretiere
And a wild fling with the American team*
Steps into her Delage
Roars down rud de Rivoli
Paints the town red
Pulls up to the Cabaret Chez Regine
A jazz band and a revue
Throw her head back
Champagne down her throat
Les six jours
Les six jours
A cheer
A cheer
Les six Jours
Au Vel d’Hiv
*Oscar Juner & Bobby Walthour
The Teams*
1. Australia: Reggie McNamara and Hubert Oppermann
2. Belgium: Rene Boogmans and Marcel Boogmans
3. England: Reggie Fielding and Syd Cozens
4. France: Alfred Letourner and Marcel Guimbretiere
5. Italy: Gus Gatto and Vince Gatto
6. Holland: Piet van Kempen and Ernst Muller
7. Germany: Hans Krause and Werner Miethe
8. Luxembourg: Nicolas Frantz and Marcel Ernzer
9. Norway: Knut Knudson and Edward Kasputis
10. San Francisco: Willy the Whale and Tony Chocolate**
11. Switzerland: Frieddie Zach and Ernst de Buhler
12. USA: Oscar Juner and Bobby Walthour, Jr.
*Some teams are fictitious; some teams have been re-teamed
for this race.
Reference: “Six Days of Madness,” 1993, Ted Harper.
**Based in the Afro-American six-day cyclist of the time, Harry Hollis.
Day One
Fat Henry
Fat Henry and the boys sat above the north banking of the Vel d’ Hiv
With him the blonde babe, Vivacious Veronica
Delages, Isotta-Fraschinis…and Hispano-Suiza* limousines
Pulled up to the Vel d’ hiv.
Beautiful women entered escorted by fat rich men.
The riders rolled around the track, lap after lap.
And sprinted for the primes
While Bunk Johnson’s Band played “Moose March”
“This I like. This is my style,” Fat Henry said
As he guzzled a beer
And with that he reached for his wallet
*Delage, Duesenberg, Isotta-Fraschini, Hispano-Suiza, Horch, Packard, and Pierce-Arrow were classic cars of the era.
The Hundred Dollar Prime
Fat Henry rolled up a hundred dollar bill
And handed it to the usherette
“Give it to the chief referee.”
“For the next prime,” Fat Henry said.
“Also tip off Letourner and Guimbretiere”
And with that he put ten dollar in her red garter belt
Bunk Johnson’s Band* played “Down by the Riverside”
While Vivacious Veronica jiggled her breasts and rolled her buttocks
Heavy set men turned their heads and puffed on their cigars
The laps whirred by at the Vel d’ hiv
Through the haze of cigar smoke, beer and jazz
Vivacious Veronica was very much in tune
*A New Orleans jazz band of the era, one of the best.
The Sprint
“A hundred dollars. A hundred dollars.”
“For the next prime,” the referee announced.
“Ten laps to go. Ten laps to go.”
The pack thundered around the track
With Willy the Whale* well tucked in
And Letourner in the lead
And Juner on the pole
The crowd shouted for their favorites
“Come on, Willy, Come on.”
“Hans, Hans, Hans.”
Hey, Hey Letourner. Pour it on.”
Throaty Annette yelled
While Fat Henry lit up a big cigar
Bunk Johnson’s band Band played “Panama”
Pour it on. Pour it on.” Throaty Annette yelled
The bell clanged. One lap to go. One lap to go.
Letourner around Hans, Willy and Juner
Letourner, Letourner. Yes, Letourner.
*Hazily based on an American Six Day Rider of the era.
Yeah Babe
“Let’s have some real action,” Fat Henry said.
And with that Fat Henry put up $1,000 for the next team to gain a lap
Vivacious Veronica gave him a kiss on his puffy cheeks
And pressed against him with her breasts
While fingering her pearls
“Yeah, babe, more pearls, but first I gotta make a deal
With One Eye Joe at the Cabaret du Chat.”
The Jam Is On
What would have passed simply
As lap stoled on a field tired from the sprint
Now became a jam in earnest
One would feel the electricity in the air
As Willy the Whale picked up his partner Tony Chocolate
His black legs whirling
In full pursuit the pack thundered around the boards
The Lap
“Tony Chocolate, Tony Chocolate”
The cry went up
Bunk Johnson’s band played the “Muskrat Ramble”
Josephine Baker* leaned over the banking
Rooting for the black and gold
Of Willy the Whale and Tony Chocolate
The San Francisco Team
The gap widened with each lap and exchange
“The “Bolden Medley,” Josephine Baker, the Black and Gold
Tony Chocolate, Willy the whale closing on the pack
Frenzy, a lap gained by Tony Chocolate and Willy the Whale
Josephine Baker dancing to the Muskrat Ramble
Other women dancing, men swilling beer
“My kind of action” Fat Henry said chomping on his cigar
“Because of you,” Vivacious Veronica replied.
“Because of a thousand bucks
Because of a thousand bucks.
It’s as simple as that.”
*Known in Paris as La Baker
At the Cabaret du Chat
The boxer Pig Iron sat with his latest.
The flaming redhead Throaty Annette.
Judith Piaf had just finished singing, “La Vie en Rose,”—and now
On stage the chorus girls kicked up their heels, revealing, revealing.
To the tune of a seedy jazz band.
In walked Louie the Weasel.
He had parked the Duesenberg outside.
“Gotta see One Eye Joe,” he said to the hat check girl.
She pointed with her breasts toward the back door.
Louie gave the knock. Two short one long. He was frisked as he walked in.
Joe and the boys were playing poker.
“Making a bet for Fat Henry,” the Weasel said pulling out a roll.
And a folded piece of paper.
One Eye Joe put his cigar on the table.
He took the cash and put it in the safe.
“I gotta phone a couple of guys,” One Eye said.
“I gotta make sure things happen. I gotta make sure things turn out right.”
Day Two
The Hop Sing Tong
Sitting above the south banking
Beneath dim lights
Sat the shadow figure of Chang Wo
The reputed head of San Francisco’s Hop Sing Tong*
Singsong girls and damsels in distress sat on either side of him
Behind Chang Wo were more shadowy figures
“I like the Black and Gold,” Chang Wo said solemnly
Shadowy figures nodded agreement
“It would be a disgrace if the San Francisco team lost”” lost”
“Indeed boss. Indeed.”
——
* Roughly, Chinese “mafia”
** A country, state, and city could have a team.
Willy the Whale
“Who is this Willy the Whale?” Chang Wo asked
Attentive ears listened
“Wong makes inquiries?”
A phone call to San Francisco was made
Money was passed at a certain waterfront bar
Shortly the answer was received at Madame Yang’s
And relayed to Chang Wo at the Vel d’ Itiv
“Willy the whale was once a whaler
Hence the name
Its origins here, however, been forgotten
People think it’s because he’s a little stout”
“And people are deceived,” Chang Wo reflected
“They therefore think he’s slow
And that as the race progresses he will not stand a chance
And bet on lesser riders which is to our advantage”
Nonetheless the Black and Gold team may need a break
The Black and Gold may need the Hop Sing Tong
————
Madame Yang’s
A cellar beneath Madame Yang’s in Pigallee
“What are the odds on the Black and Gold?” Chang Wo demanded
The click of the abacus* could be heard
“One in one hundred fourteen”
Chang Wo puffed on a long thin stemmed pipe
“Good money. Good money. And Black and Gold, hum.
And what does Madame Yang say?”
“Chang Wo has the tiger by the tail
Chang Wo has luck by the tail
Chang Wo has luck by the short hairs”
“Sometimes the tiger must be coaxed
“Sometimes the short hairs must be stroked”
Singsong girls laughed. Singsong girls giggled.
“Who do we bet with boss? Who do we bet with?”
Shadowy figures asked
Monte Carlo. We’ll break the bank.”
————–
*Abacus: An instrument for making calculations by sliding counters along rods or grooves. The Merriam-Webster Dictionary, U.S.A. 1994, page 19.
—————
Insight
“The Black and Gold must win that we know
How do we arrange things? How do we go about it?”
Shadowy figures asked
“All men must have a little entertainment
Some more than others
Some more yet
Send for the singsong girl called : The Scorpion”
“Gladly boss. Very gladly.”
“Well, then, so much for truth
Meanwhile we’ll cast our fortune with the sprints”
———-
The Gatto Brothers
Now the Gatto Brothers from Palermo Sicily
Had their own agenda
Money was to be made in the sprints
And they were sure to make it
Let other teams steal a lap, maybe two
While they rested, while they waited
For a sprint with a big prime
And either Gus or Vince Gatto whipped through the field
Then pounce, like their very name in Italian–cat
They nipped the leaders on the line
——————
The Right Prime
“Can a tire be made to go flat?”
Chang Wo asked as if thinking out loud
“For a price many things can happen
For the right price many thing are certain”
A henchman’s voice responded
Words were whispered, but in any case, all mouths were stopped
Quiet footsteps walked away
Orders had been given
———–
The Tire
Bunk Johnson’s band was playing “Ballin’ the Jack”
The cigars were lit, the beer was flowing
And money had been posted for the sprint
Now being contested
When boom a tire burst. It was Vince Gatto
In the middle of the sprinting field
Straining every muscle to keep upright
Pulling against his handlebars one way, then the other
The crowd caught its breath as he pressed on
To the next banking, exchanging with his brother Gus
Then the Pye tire peeled off the shellac and Vince was down
———–
Against All Odds
Though five men high Gus came around
Packed with adrenaline from the roaring crowd
Leaning against riders and cutting through pockets
Nipping Hans on the line
The crowd went bezerk
Fat Henry held up his glass in a toast
Vivacious Veronica did the soft shoe
Anita Berber* bared her breasts
Josephine Baker danced in delight
Only Cheng Wo remained silent
The abacus clicked in his head
He had lost money on the spin of a wheel
The abacus clicked in his head
—————-
* Anita Berber: a fixture at the Berlin Six Day Races and Cabaret scene. Since deceased, but given mouth-to-mouth recitation, revived and transported to the 1938 Paris Six. Presently played by the German Actrice, Nina Hagen.
—————-
Retribution
In the dark corridor underneath the south banking
A hatchet man stood unseen
Footsteps could be heard approaching
A knife was pulled from a long sleeve
Cat-like eyes aimed, then swish
The blade found its mark
Between the ribs and into the very heart
A barely audible groan and the figure thudded to the floor
Above could be heard the rumble of the riders on the track
The knife was pulled out, returned to the sleeve
The hatchet man withdrew,
And no one was the wiser.
—————
Day Three
Letourner and Guimbretiere
The big jammers of the race
The ones who could lay the hammer down
When they wanted were Letourner and Guimbretiere
So while Willie the Whale and Tony Chocolate
Had surprised everyone on the first night
And stolen lap on the field
By the third day of the race
Letourner and Guimbretierre had turned up the heat
And scorched the boards
Soon they led by four laps
———————
Up a Notch
By ten o’clock that night
Two thousand dollars had been posted
For the next team to gain a lap
At the prodding of Vivacious Veronica
It grew to two thousand five
The pace cranked up a notch, maybe two
Anita Berber leaned over the banking
Chomping on a big cigar and bobbing her breasts
“I don’t bite too hard boys. I don’t bite too hard,” she yelled
“Isn’t she a nice girl,” Fat Henry chuckled
“She such a nice girl.”
The Gap
Was it partly due to this distraction? Now more
Letourner and hia partner Guimbretiere
Made a magnificent exchange
Letourner cutting off the field as he swung up to the relief line
A gap was opened, and so began the chase
Their House
The crowd was on its feet
“France. France. France,” they yelled
On the north banking Fat Henry gulped his beer and yelled the same
And Vivacious Veronica could not be restrained
On the south banking Chang Wo ordered all to cheer and stamp their feet
After all the odds were being upped his way
Anita Berber in defiance yelled for the German team
“Deutschland. Deutschland. You’ll see.”
Bunk Johnson’s Band played the “Dippermouth Blues”
Josephine Baker yelled “Tony Chocolate. Come on Tony Chocolate.”
Still Letourner and Guimbretiere widened the gap
On the chasing pack, Hell this was their house
The hammer was down. One exchange then another
And almost before one knew it Letourner surged into the field
They had a lap
Pandemonium. Shouts.
“France, France.” then the “Dippermouth Blues”
Anita Berber thumbed her nose in disgust
Truth, reality: Two thousand five. Yes, two thousand five
Over the Top
As if limp after an orgasm that cries of the crowd abated
The band stopped playing
The field went slack
Riders swung up the banking, higher, higher
Until boom there was no room for Hans Krause
Over the fence he went almost landing in Fat Henry’s lap
He demolished his Durkopp
Though fortunately not himself
He had four hours to get back in the race
“He’ll need a good massage,” Anita Berber said
“He’ll need all the head he can get.”
——————————
Day Four
A Big Prime
A Dutchman, a shipper, and a big tycoon
With a diamond stickpen, cigar, and large bankroll
Peeled off five hundred dollars
“To honor the Port of Rotterdam,” he said.
Patting the usherette on the fanny
And also handling her an undisclosed sum
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer said
Carl van Hoven has put up five hundred dollars
For the midnight sprint and to honor the Port of Rotterdam”
Anita Berber led the cheer
“Hooray, for the Port of Rotterdam,”
She shouted as she sat on Carl’s lap
“Hooray for Carl and his big cigar.”
The Bets Are In
The word was out
To those in the know
And those with the right bucks
The Dutch team of Piet van Kempen and Ernst Muller
Was out to beat the Gatto Brothers in the midnight sprint
And collect from their countryman
They planned to pull it off in collusion with the other teams
Who perhaps soured a bit on the Palermo boys
Would box the Gattos in and open up a hole for either Piet or Ernst
Let the Good Times Roll
The field was tightly packed
Like a swarm of bees
Oaths and shouts went up as riders jostled for position
Ernst well placed behind the American Oscar Juner
The Sicilian Gus well blocked
“Ha. ha.” Carl said. “The Dutchman cannot be beat.”
Clang. Clang. Bell lap. Bell lap.
Oscar swung up. Ernst going for it
Gus boring through. Boring through
“Ernst. Ernst.” the crowd roared
Then it happened in the beginning of the turn
Their handlebars locked
Around the turn they raced, into the straight, , and across the line
A dead heat. Gus and Ernst in a dead heat
The referee now neutralized the race
Until due to skillful riding the two unpried themselves
The crowd went wild. People slapping each other on the back
By God, had anyone ever seen the like
On top of that the referee announced
“Ladies and Gentlemen, you have just seen the fastest lap of the race
By God, had anyone ever seen te like
Let the good times roll
Let the good times roll on and on
Later Inside the Horch
“Whew,” Carl said wiping the perspiration off his face
“That was damn close
I have to get back to Rotterdam
A big shipment is coming in”
“I help you light up your cigar” Anita Berber cooed.
“I’ll accompany you to your car.”
“Yes,” Carl answered, “Later inside the Horch.”
———————
Day Five
Fini
What is this thing called “Fini?”
Chang Wo asked
“A gentleman’s agreement boss
No laps are gained or lost between 4 a.m. and noon”
“Gentlemen?” I see none–only men”
“I read your thoughts boss
But no one is keeping score
And no one is watching”
“Hum,” Chang Wo said “Hum”
Not So Fast
It was 4 a.m. at the Vel d’hiv
The last sprint and jam of the night were finished
The riders were winding down
The members of Bunk Johnson’s band were packing up their instruments
The crowd was leaving
Only the track lights remained on
“Not so fast,” Chang Wo said. “Not so fast.”
“You, Tan, here’s the keys to the Pierce Arrow.
Take the women home.”
To his other henchmen, talking in a quiet voice
Chang Wo explained.
“Wong and Wei will throw the body on the track.
We’ll attend to the rest
Then rendezvous in Madame Yang’s cellar
Now you two walk up in the stands near the rafters
Where you’ll remain unseen
Center Stage
One rider from each team
Slowly circled the track
But after half a hour they turned in*
Two figures now made their way through the stands
Down the stairs and beneath the banking
Shortly the body that lay there
Was thrown in the center of the track
Their task completed
The two figures shook hands
And disappeared into the night
The velodrome remained silent
*During fini, technically one rider from each team was to remain on the track at all times, but often this did not happen
The Prefect of Police
Who but who was being entertained in the boudoir
At Madame Yang’s that was called “The Palace of Mirrors”
But the prefect of police
A knock on the door
“The phone for you, sir.” Madame Yang said
“Not now. Not now.
I’m busy. Can’t it wait?”
“It may be important.”
A phone with a long extension.
Was passed through the door
An anonymous voice spoke
“A corpse is in the center of the Vel d’ hiv”
Just as he was about to slam the phone down
And say “In the morning.”
The voice added: “And the press is on the way.”
This put a different bend on the matter
After all he had his reputation to uphold
Bottoms were patted
And nipples quickly kissed
Shortly the prefect’s black Citroen
Roared down Pigallee toward the Vel d’hiv
To the Morgue
The reporters from Le Figaro, L’Auto, and Le Matin . . . had arrived
And also the prefect of police
“What do you make of it sir?”
“Not much, a knife through the chest
Done in by a member of the underworld no doubt
With these types of killings, who knows?
Summon an ambulance, then, it’s on to the morgue”
Who was the killer of this guy that died?
No one knew.
And if they did, they would not speak the truth
The Scorpion
A black chauffeured Isotta-Fraschini limousine
Drove silently down Pigallee
Behind drawn curtains in the back seat
Dressed in a dark green Cheong-Sam*
Was the singsong girl; The Scorpion
And a well paid friend
The Isotta-Fraschini rounded the corner
And headed toward the Vel d’hiv
*Cheong Sam: Chinese evening dress with a slit up the side and a mandarin collar
Awakened
Willy the Whale and Tony Chocolate
Took a swing at their trainer, Red Mike
When he shook them awake
Red quickly whispered the truth of the matter
Awakened
Willy the Whale and Tony Chocolate
Took a swing at their trainer, Red Mike
When he shook them awake
Red quickly whispered the truth of the matter
Which till now he had kept to himself
For even walls have ears
They dressed and were soon on the track
The other teams were slightly delayed
But not by much
The truth must not be too obvious
Thunder
As if released from a canon
Willy the Whale thundered around the boards
Exchanging on the bankings with his partner Tony Chocolate
Red Mike their trainer kept a close watch on the referee and the press
They had rolled up almost seven laps
Before the other teams caught on
Fang Marks Were Left Behind
Now where oh where were our leaders
The tricolor team of blue, white and red?
Unfortunately or rather fortunately
The team of Letourner and Guimbretiere
The leaders of the race
Were being delightfully entertained in the rider’s massage room
By the singsong girl called the Scorpion and her well paid friend
Then on a prearranged signal at the door
The Scorpion and her accomplice
Reluctantly released their fangs
And somewhat weakened in the legs and other body parts
Letourner and Guimbretiere were hustled
By their trainers on the track
The Transient Hotel
Now for a dollar, maybe less
A wino or a man on the bum
Could buy a general admission ticket
To the six day bike races
And stay in the auditorium for the entire race
In New York, in Chicago, in San Francisco . . . and in Paris too
And if he didn’t cause any trouble and get thrown out
We could eat leftovers and drink stale beer
For six days he had his bunk
A Floating Memory
Letourner and Guimbretiere viewed the whirling riders in disgust
A substantial lead was now wiped out
And what to show for it but fang marks and a floating memory
Laps were being gained even now
What was there to do, but try to gain them back?
They were clipped into the pedals and given a push
One into the jam and one on relief
We’ll Blow the Joint Apart
Fat Henry was on a roll
Before fini Letourner and Guimbretiere were several laps up
“It’s in the bag,” he said as he stood up to leave
“A done deal; and later the bucks
Let’s celebrate. Now on to the Cabaret du Chat
We’ll blow the joint apart.”
————————
Day Six
The Morning After
Fat Henry was slumped on the floor, snoring
Next to him was a blonde of unknown origins
Her breasts heaving as she slept
Cigar butts and cigarette butts were in the ashtrays
And strewn about
Their stale odor permeating the Cabaret du Chat
Wine glasses, one with a rose on it.
And beer steins, mostly empty, but some laced with foam
Were on the tables, the piano, and even the floor
Garter belts, stockings and panties
Were draped over the backs of chairs
Across tables and on the stage
What a night. What a night.
______________