GI BRIDES – June’s Story: Exclusive Bonus Ebook

At the entrance, men were sent to the right and ladies to the left, passing through a long corridor to the cloakrooms and then meeting again in the former auditorium, which was decorated in elegant crimson and gold. Tables and chairs were scattered around, and there were big columns against which several GIs were leaning nonchalantly.

The band was playing American swing-style music, and the theatre’s enormous stage was now the dance floor. As June looked up onto it, she could see local girls partnered with Americans, performing a manic dance in which their feet barely seemed to touch the ground. Every now and then the men threw the girls out away from them and then pulled them, spinning, back into their embrace. Some even threw their partners behind them so that they literally rolled off their backs. June was fascinated, and not a little horrified.

‘It’s called the jitterbug,’ Margaret said, seeing her staring in awe.

After watching for some time, and with a couple of shandies inside them, June and Margaret braved the stage with a pair of GIs. Like her parents, June was a natural dancer, and with her confident American partner leading the way she soon found herself hot-footing it around the stage with the best of them, although she refrained from any of the more acrobatic manoeuvres. The jitterbug was so exhilarating that June couldn’t get enough of it, and she kept going back up onto the stage over and over again with different GIs. Being surrounded by crowds of Americans, she was in pure heaven, and she never wanted the night to end.

Suddenly, she noticed the time: it was twenty to ten, and she was about to miss her bus. ‘Oh my God – I’ve got to go!’ she cried.

June raced to the bus stop, but to her dismay the bus was drawing away just as she arrived. She remembered her father’s words, and knew that if she waited for another one to come along, she would never get home by 10 p.m. There was only one thing for it: she would have to run all the way home.

It wasn’t easy running in her heels, but June was still so high from jitterbugging that she felt she was almost flying down the road. As the bus made its first stop, June wasn’t far behind it, and by the time it made its second, right by the Lister Tavern, June was there to meet it. She sauntered into the pub just as it was closing, and her father nodded approvingly, assuming, just as she had hoped, that she had made the bus.

After her first taste of dancing with the Americans, June couldn’t stay away, and soon she and Margaret were going to the Grand Casino almost every night after work. She was barely ever home, except to sleep, and she couldn’t have been happier.

The Midland Hotel had also become something of a GI hangout, and on the nights when they weren’t jitterbugging away, June and Margaret could be found in the hotel’s lounge. The girls were soon being invited on double dates and quickly discovered that spending time with the GIs had other benefits apart from the inevitable jitterbugging. Thanks to the US Army Post Exchange, or ‘PX’, they could buy all manner of things that the Brits had been unable to get under rationing – as well as some things they had never known they’d been missing. Silk stockings, nail polish, perfume, lipstick, cigarettes, chewing gum, Hershey bars, Snickers, Life Savers and even oranges – which were so scarce in England that they could only be bought once a month for children and pregnant women – were among the items they doled out.

The men showered June with the traditional GI gifts, but there was only one thing she really wanted from each of them: the metal rank insignia that they wore on their uniforms. After extracting the little tokens from her various suitors she began making a charm bracelet out of them, which she wore proudly at all times.

After the Midland Hotel and the Grand Casino closed for the evening, June would sometimes take her American friends back to her parents’ pub, for one of her dad’s lock-ins, so that the fun could continue. The black-out drapes proved to be a handy way of disguising these late-night drinking sessions, and although June had avoided spending time in the pub before, now that the Americans were there it felt like a different place.

Before long, the Lister Tavern was being frequented by many GIs, much to Mr and Mrs Baker’s delight. A salt seller on the bar was the usual giveaway that a pub had become Yank-friendly – the Americans found British beer unpalatable, particularly in its watered-down wartime variety, and would often add salt or shots of whisky to make it taste better.

When they found out Mr Baker was a cigar smoker, some of the Americans began turning up with cigars for him, as well as packets of cigarettes for Mrs Baker. One young officer June brought back to the pub, Woody, even turned up with some brand-new shoes from the PX for her dad, having heard him complain that he didn’t have enough ration coupons to buy a pair. ‘You bring back as many Americans as you like, love!’ her father said happily.

However, he was still as strict as ever about timekeeping, and if June arrived even a few minutes after ten he would give her an earful.

One evening, June and Margaret were out in town when a couple of American officers came up to them.

‘Hey, girls, wanna go to a dance?’ one of them asked. He was tall and handsome, and June was already eyeing up the insignia on his jacket for her charm bracelet. ‘It’s back on the base, but we got transportation,’ he told them.

‘I promised my parents I wouldn’t be late tonight,’ said Margaret sadly.

‘I’ll come!’ said June. She wasn’t going to miss out on the opportunity to go to a real American army base.

Soon June and a group of other girls the officers had picked up were being driven out of town in a bus. At the base, the party was in full swing and the place was swarming with GIs and girls, all dancing with even more enthusiasm than they did at the Grand Casino. June was in her element as she and the tall, dark officer, whose name turned out to be Chuck, joined the rest of the crowd.

When the band took a rest, a compere came onto the stage to draw a raffle. ‘I got you a ticket,’ Chuck said, handing June a little blue paper ticket with the number 476 on it.

‘Ooh, thank you!’ she said.

‘Number thirty-two. Thirty-two,’ said the man on the stage, and a blonde girl jumped up and down squealing with excitement. She rushed up onstage, where she was presented with a pair of silk stockings.

‘Look what I got!’ she cried, when she returned to her friends, and they all reached over to touch the soft material.

Next, a girl won a bottle of bright-red nail varnish and returned brandishing it proudly.

‘And now,’ said the compere, ‘whichever guy is with the girl who wins this prize is going to be the luckiest one of the night. Number 476 come up to the front!’

June gaped in astonishment as she realised it was her number. ‘You won, sugar!’ Chuck said, ushering her up. Suddenly feeling very shy, June stepped up onto the stage, where she was presented with a skimpy two-piece swimsuit. The term bikini had not yet been coined, but in America the designs had already begun shrinking.

A big ‘Woooo!’ went up from the crowd and June blushed as she returned to Chuck – who was being clapped on the back by the men around him. June couldn’t imagine herself ever wearing the swimsuit, but that didn’t dampen her excitement. As she clutched it, she kept thinking: oh my God, this is from America!

Elated by her win, she and Chuck danced all night, and were among the last to leave the hangar. But to June’s horror, she discovered she had missed the army bus back. ‘What am I going to do?’ she asked Chuck, terrified at the thought of her dad’s fury if she was late home.

‘Sorry, doll, you’ll just have to stay here tonight,’ he replied. ‘I’ll sneak you into my room.’

June wasn’t the only girl to have miscalculated, and that night four of them slept in the men’s quarters. June shared a bed with one of the girls, while Chuck chivalrously took the floor. But all night she cursed herself for what she had done. Here she was, in a strange man’s room, with no way of letting her parents know she was safe. She dreaded to think what her father would say.

In the morning, the girls were bussed back into Birmingham and dropped off one by one. June was the last to get home, and when she arrived her dad exploded at her. ‘Where the hell have you been?’ he shouted. ‘We’ve been up all night waiting for you!’

Then he spied the string of the swimsuit that June had stuffed into her coat pocket.

‘What’s this?’ he demanded, pulling on it. Out came the bra of the skimpy two-piece, which Mr Baker held aloft in horror.

‘Have you been prancing around in this all night?!’ he asked, furious.

‘No, Dad!’ cried June. ‘I just won it in a raffle!’

‘Well, that’s the last you’ll see of it. Now get to your room.’

June ran upstairs, feeling both mortified and desperately sad to have lost her little piece of America.

One night at the Grand Casino, as June and Margaret were sitting at a table watching the dancers up on the stage, a couple of GIs approached them. One was dark and one was fair, and June’s face lit up as she saw the captains’ insignia on their jackets.

‘Hey, miss, wanna dance?’ the dark-haired one asked her.

June was mesmerised by his eyes, which were so dark and twinkling that they seemed to be glowing. His hair was such a dark brown it was almost black, he was manly and muscular, and she guessed he was a few years older than her.

‘Yes, please,’ she replied shyly.

She and Margaret followed the men up onto the stage, and soon she was jitterbugging across the floor faster than she ever had before. The GI was a great dancer, and he kept shouting words of encouragement that made June giggle, especially since he had a strong New Jersey accent.

‘That’s it, doll!’ he called. ‘You show ’em how it’s done!’

When they finally returned to their table, June was out of breath from dancing and laughing. Margaret and her GI, whose name was Ed, were already there, and looked like they were getting very friendly.

‘Say, I never asked your name,’ her dance partner said.

‘June,’ she replied.

‘My name’s Michael, and I think you need a drink.’

June giggled again as she watched him go off to the bar. She caught Margaret’s eye and they both shot each other an excited smile.

For the rest of the evening, June was glued to Michael’s side. She learned that he was from Elizabeth – ‘Just across the water from Staten Island’ – and that he came from an Italian-American family. Michael was the most talkative American she’d ever gone out with, even more so than her first GI, Borgy, and once again her partner’s chattiness was the perfect complement to her own shy personality. He seemed to talk at a million miles an hour, and with his funny accent she felt she could listen to him all night long.

June and Michael started going to the Odeon together – something she hadn’t done with the other GIs – and she almost had to pinch herself to believe that she was watching her favourite Hollywood movie stars with her own real-life American by her side. When he kissed her under cover of darkness she found she didn’t even care if she missed what was happening on the screen.