The Docklands Girls (6 page)

When they arrived at her room, they undressed and climbed into bed. Hank drew her into his arms and they just talked for a while and then they made love, taking their time, enjoying every touch, every kiss, unhurried in their need for each other, wanting this moment to last. To be remembered. To be cherished.

To Cora’s delight, he’d brought some eggs and bacon with him which she cooked and they sat and ate together. When eventually it was time for him to leave, they stood in the doorway and clung to each other.

Cora watched him walk away, tears streaming down her face.

Jackson was curled up in bed with Belle on his final leave. She was trying to give him support mentally for what lay
ahead, but strangely, he was the one who was the stronger of the two.

‘Don’t you worry none, Belle,’ he told her. ‘Whatever happens to me is in the good Lord’s hands, but if my life is to be over soon, I have no regrets.’ He gazed at her and kissed her cheek softly.

Belle could hardly contain her emotions and with tear-filled eyes she pleaded with him. ‘Jackson, don’t talk that way. I can’t bear it.’

‘Aw come on, honey, don’t you fret none. Whatever happens, if I survive, you know I have to go home after to my family, but I’ll never ever forget you, Belle. As long as I live, I’ll never forget you. But you write like you promised me, won’t you? That way we’ll keep in touch.’

Taking a deep breath, Belle said, ‘Yes, of course I will. But you listen to me, Jackson Butler, you make sure you write back and tell me you’re alive and kicking!’

He burst out laughing. ‘Belle, honey, you forget where I’m from! All my life I’ve been ducking and diving, no old German is gonna take me down – you hear?’

She couldn’t help but smile at his confidence. ‘I hear you loud and clear.’

Two days later, the troops were moving out of the town. The inhabitants of Southampton stood and watched for hours as company after company of troops of all nationalities marched through the streets of Southampton towards the ships waiting in the docks. The British troops marching tall and proud and in step, the Americans more casual, throwing their small packs of K-rations to the children waiting on the pavements. Cascades of English
money was also thrown, the troops saying they had no further need of it. Despite the seriousness of the situation, there was an unexpected air of jollity about it all. Army trucks full of soldiers followed.

Cora and Belle were stationed in Latimer Street every day, both watching for their men. The Negro troops passed by and Belle caught sight of Jackson who waved and motioned with his hands for her to write. Belle nodded and blew him kisses, much to the delight of his comrades who teased him unmercifully.

There were several women pushing prams with black babies also waiting. Some crying, others cursing as they saw the father of their child who tried to keep out of sight.

One woman seeing her Negro boyfriend screamed out at him. ‘You come back here, you bastard. This is your baby you’ve left me with!’

The man in question just kept marching, staring straight ahead.

Sergeant Milt Miller was marching beside his company of men when he saw Hildy searching the faces of the passing troops. She suddenly saw him and ran over, kissing him and walking next to him until they turned into the docks. She stood watching until the last line of men disappeared out of sight and she wept.

Cora, waiting further down the street, saw Hank in an army vehicle, who waved and called out to her.

‘You take care of yourself!’

‘You make sure you do the same,’ she yelled back at him.

‘Be sure to write,’ he called. She nodded back, unable to speak as her emotions overcame her.

Inside the docks, the troops embarked in readiness, knowing they’d soon be crossing the English Channel to face the enemy. They coped with this knowledge in different ways. Some joked with their companions, others withdrew inside themselves. A few of them offered silent prayers. Others tried to cover hands that were shaking with fear trying to hide just how scared they were, trying to be men of strength.

To cover the mass assembly, smoke screens had been laid down and there were many complaints as the acrid smell seeped into the town; the population were unaware of the importance of the manoeuvre. But there was an air of tension in everybody, knowing that at any moment the invasion would begin for real. There was the faint possibility, if things went wrong, of seeing German troops walking through the town, but in their hearts they believed that the enemy would be defeated.

On 6th June 1944, the invasion of Normandy began. The sound of many planes flying overhead could be heard throughout the night and on into the dawn. The civilians poured out of houses and shops to watch, knowing that at last the day had come.

Sergeant Milt Miller was pushing his way through the men in his company, pressed together like sardines in the landing craft as they crossed the Channel, barking out orders, keeping his soldiers alert, not giving them too much time to think of anything but making their way as fast as they could out of the landing craft onto Omaha beach and keeping their heads down.

‘Remember what you’ve been taught during the exercises. Those Krauts will be waiting and they won’t be inviting you to stay and be friends. Show them the American GIs are up to the task and give them hell!’

‘Yes, Sergeant!’ they yelled in unison, now all pumped up, the adrenaline flowing through their veins.

Throughout the night, the RAF had pounded German batteries along the French coast and in the early morning,
the US Eighth Air Force took over the attack. Mines were swept from the invasion route and engineers demolished beach obstacles as the troops landed behind them.

Milt’s landing craft eventually stopped and the front opened. The men poured out, jumping into the cold water, holding their rifles aloft as all hell broke loose. The rattle of machine guns was deafening. Explosions from enemy positions filled the air as gun boats opened fire on them, trying to eliminate their gun placements and afford some backup for the invading troops. The water was waist high and the men struggled towards the beach, bodies dropping as they were brought down by German bullets. Cries from injured men could be heard. Blood stained the water. The lucky ones eventually found solid sand beneath their feet and raced to find shelter against the cliff face, soaking wet, scared, but triumphant.

In Southampton, Hildy leant against the wall of the factory, having watched the planes flying overhead, knowing that Milt would be on his way by now. They had spent his final night together in her flat, talking about the future and making plans for when he returned.

Listening to him, Hildy was impressed by his optimism; he didn’t even consider that something might happen to destroy their future life together so she tried to be positive too and shut her mind to any negative thoughts.

‘I’m not sure how long I’ll stay in the army,’ he told her. ‘It just might be the time to quit and open up my own business, but we’ll wait and see how the land lies when I return. But no matter what, we’ll be together.’ He looked at her and asked, ‘Do you want to get married in Southampton
with your family and friends around, or in the States?’

She couldn’t help but give a sardonic smile. ‘With my mother there – or not! I doubt she’d want to come and, if I’m honest, I’m not sure that would be a good idea anyway, she would do her very best to spoil the happiest day of my life knowing her.’

‘You know, honey, I kind of feel sorry for her.’

‘You do?’

‘Well, it must be terrible for a woman like that, so wrapped up in herself. She’ll never know true happiness and that’s a great shame.’

Hildy nested in to him. ‘You are an extraordinary man, Milt Miller.’

‘Not really. I’ve learnt a lot about people through being in the army and in charge of men. People come in all different types. I’ve met wives and mothers like yours before. The most important thing is not to let them run your life or for sure, they’ll destroy it.’

Milt had brought some food over from the PX store and they sat like a married couple sharing a meal and chatting before going to bed together. As she lay in his arms, Hildy prayed that the plans they’d made that night would come to fruition because she knew that this man was solid. One she loved, one she would be content to grow old with and she made a quiet pledge to her maker that if he would only bring Milt back alive, she’d be a good woman for the rest of her days.

The sound of a passing bus brought her back to the present and she returned to her work. Life had to go on and she’d sit down tonight and write her first letter to him.

During the following weeks, troops still marched through Southampton before being shipped across the Channel. Boats came back filled with wounded and German prisoners who were marched to barbed wire holdings inside the Western Docks to await removal to prison camps. They were watched by the locals who gazed at them with mixed 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 in
the 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 Germans
from 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! Saddle up, men, and follow me,’ called Sergeant Miller and they left the building, running, bent double, making their way deeper into enemy territory. Diving and ducking from one house to another, they searched each room for the enemy.

As they entered the next house, two Germans appeared at the top of the stairs and opened fire to bring one American down, but in seconds they were riddled with bullets and
their bodies tumbled down the stairs. The GIs climbed over them and took the rest of the stairs warily, rifles at the ready, shooting those who got in their way. Jackson peeked in an open doorway and saw in the window of the room two Germans manning a machine gun. He took a grenade, pulled the pin and threw the grenade inside ducking back against the wall with his comrades for shelter. There was an explosion and the shooting stopped. Outside, Sherman tanks rumbled by and once the building was clear, the soldiers moved on to the next one.

It all happened so fast that there wasn’t time to think of anything but getting the job done. Adrenaline kept them going. It was only in the quiet moments when they had a break that the men had time to realise the danger they had faced and how lucky they were to still be alive.