Just been reading back on the last thread and saw a post from VC10 (I think). News to me about segregation in the UK during WW2, I did a bit of googling and found the story, so just wanted to mention it here again. I think it's a fabulous story and thought others on here who dont know about this will appreciate reading about how the Brits were supporting the black American troops. There is more to this story sadly with things becoming violent.
"African American troops were used to being segregated from their white counterparts back home – but in Britain no such laws existed, and there was very little in the way of racial prejudice.
Black troops were welcomed with open arms, and were free to fraternize with British men and women in pubs, cinemas, dance halls, on public transport, and in other places with no restrictions. This was completely different from how it was for them in some parts of the US, particularly for those from the South.
Many American politicians and military officials worried that African American troops who were experiencing this newfound complete equality with whites would become “radicalized” and stir up trouble when they had to return to the US. They therefore sought to keep the black servicemen segregated from the local white population.
The British, however, refused to comply with any racist requests from American military police officers. When asked to segregate his pub, for example, one pub owner said that he would gladly do so. When the MP officers returned to check on the pub, the owner had put up a sign saying that only black GIs were welcome."
from
www.warhistoryonline.com
When I was little, my grandparents lived in a small mining village in deepest darkest Yorkshire.
It was the sort of place where the doors were always open and everyone knew everyone elses' business. There seemed to be get-togethers going on all the time - outings, parties, picnics etc. and for us kids it was like having dozens of grandparents, aunties & uncles.
One of the most popular "uncles" was a GI who'd married one of the local girls and moved to the village. We kids could never understand why he'd left somewhere as glamorous as the US to live in an ordinary boring English village and he would just tell us that the people here are friendlier.
He died when I was about 4 years old and I'd pretty much forgotten about him until we had a family get-together yesterday & one of my cousins pulled out some old photo albums they'd found.
I'm absolutely stunned because I remember him, his larger than life personality, huge smile and infectious laugh. I didn't realise, until I saw his photo, he was African American.
He and his wife married (legally in the UK) in the local parish church shortly after the war and he was accepted as an "Honourary Yorkshireman".