Free The Docklands Girls by June Tate Page B

emotions. This was the enemy? This bedraggled group of men who looked thoroughly dejected. They didn’t look menacing at all.
    By now, the troop movements became part of the norm and folks got on with their lives. They listened to Alvar Lidell reading the news every night to hear how the war was progressing and discussed it with each other as they queued for food.
    The pubs were still busy with soldiers and sailors waiting to be shipped out – on top of the regulars who were stationed in Southampton dealing out supplies, making sure the troops were catered for before they left and keeping the military well stocked.
     
    Belle and Cora were sitting in The Grapes, a pub in Oxford Street having a drink and a chat. They liked a change of scenery every now and again and The Grapes was a busy pub, situated nearer the docks. Belle was talking about Jackson Butler.
    ‘You know the saddest thing is when Jackson does go home after the war is over and he’s demobilised, he’ll go back to his family in Alabama and, once again, he’ll be treated as a second-class citizen.’
    ‘What do you mean?’ asked Cora.
    Belle explained about the segregation of the Negro inthe southern states of America. ‘If he’d had sex with a white woman there, he’d have been lynched.’
    Cora was shocked. ‘Oh my God!’
    ‘But don’t you see, Cora, here in this country he’s had so much freedom. Here he could use the same bars as the whites and eat in the same restaurants. Here he was equal to them, he was respected as a soldier and as a man. What is going to happen to him when he goes home?’
    ‘Do you think he’ll get into trouble?’
    ‘To be honest, I don’t know, but it does worry me. You can understand why any Negro who was good enough to fight for his country should be respected and would be angry to be told to sit in the back of the bus and only use places designated to them. It’s not right!’
    ‘You really like him, don’t you?’
    Belle’s voice softened. ‘He was the first man in years to treat me like I was really special. Something to be cherished.’ She looked at her friend and added, ‘I can’t tell you how good that made me feel.’
    ‘You were special to him, Belle. You were not only his first woman but a white one who treated him like a man. You cared about him too and that must have meant a great deal to him.’
    Smiling, Belle said, ‘He did say he’d never forget me and as sure as hell I won’t forget him. Oh for goodness’ sake, stop all this. Let’s have another drink. This bloody war isn’t good for anyone, it messes with people’s lives!’
     
    The man in Belle’s thoughts was holed up in a corner of a building with others from his company after they’d fought street by street, house by house, to clear the Germansfrom the area. During a lull in the fighting, his sergeant Milt Miller had told the men to take a break. The radio operator was reporting their position, waiting for further instructions.
    After lighting a cigarette, Jackson took a swig from a water bottle, wishing it was like the beer he used to drink back in Southampton. He drew on his cigarette and let his mind wander back to those days and to Belle. What a great woman she was and what times they’d had together. He thought of how he’d felt her soft skin against his, how he’d held her ample bosom, stroked her thighs – and how she’d kissed him. He was sad at the thought that they’d never meet again. Yet he smiled as he remembered how delighted she was whenever he’d bought her food from the PX stores. Such a small thing to make a person happy. But she’d never asked for more. They’d been good together. He hadn’t minded when his companions had teased him about his affair.
    ‘You just want some white meat, man,’ one had said. But it had been much more than that. She’d shown him respect as a man and affection that was sincere. Imagine! He a Negro. It would be something he’d carry with him for ever.
    ‘Right!