Lady-Killer

He was a lady-killer--tall, dark-haired, handsome in his army officer's uniform. Beaufort George Swancutt was his romantic name. Last week he reached the climax of a disordered career, whose early details the Army had somehow missed or ignored.

After twelve hours of shocked, tight-lipped military censorship, Colonel E. R. Sarles, commander at Camp Anza, near Riverside, Calif., finally told the story:

Second Lieut. Harry J. Light and two girls were sitting in the Camp Anza officers' club drinking beer with 2nd Lieut. Swancutt when the lady-killer suddenly leaped to his feet, began firing his .45-caliber service pistol.

The girls collapsed, their fluffy hair awry. Shot in the chests, both died. They were Lourdine Livermore, 18, and Dorothy Douglas, 19, of Long Beach. Other women screamed. Swancutt fired more shots which wounded Lieut. Light and Lieut. Aldace Minard. Then he rushed from the club.

He ran to the officers' quarters and called out Captain Aubrey G. Serfling. When the astonished captain appeared, Swancutt shot him in the belly, then dashed through the camp, still firing. Serfling later died. Swancutt pinked Corporal Robert Sampson, leaped into a staff car, waved his .45 at Sergeant John E. Roberts and made the sergeant drive him down the dark road.

Near a police substation at Arlington he ordered Roberts to stop. Ray Schlegel, an aircraft worker, Schlegel's wife, eight-month-old baby and cousin were approaching in a car. Swancutt waved the Schlegels down. He was ordering them out of the car just as Policemen E. F. Cole and A. B. Simpson dashed up with guns drawn.

Again the wild-eyed Swancutt opened fire. Two bullets landed in Schlegel's chest, two hit Policeman Simpson, who kept firing as he fell. Policeman Cole, a pistol marksman, blazed away. That was the end of the rampage. Swancutt was lugged off to a hospital, charged with murder, held for a military trial.

Dark Past. That was the story. At week's end no one had given any reason for 31-year-old Swancutt's violent behavior except, unofficially, that he was a man who could not handle beer, that he was in love with Dorothy Douglas.

Several other things needed to be explained :

In La Crosse, Wis., Swancutt was well and unfavorably known. He had been divorced, had married his wife again (they have two boys, aged ten and eight). At the La Crosse police station are 15 entries against his name. Among them: attempted suicide, drunk & disorderly conduct, larceny. He was serving a 90-day sentence for vagrancy when his draft board called him up. The police let him out to join the Army.

Despite this record, he was admitted to Ft. Benning, Ga. Officers' Candidate School. Somehow he got through Benning's tough, work-crammed infantry course. Three months later the unstable Swancutt got his commission.

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