The Preoccupation Of Britain

By Michael Demarest

THE G.I.'s

by NORMAN LONGMATE 416 pages. Scribner's. $12.50.

On Jan. 26, 1942, there began what might be called the Preoccupation of Britain. It was on that misty day at the nadir of World War II that the U.S. 34th Infantry Division lurched ashore in Belfast, vanguard of the first foreign army to disunite the kingdom since 1066 and all that. The Americans were to be the matter and yatter of Britain for the ensuing three years, in which some 2 million G.l.'s bought and bulled their way through England's gray and rationed land. In turn, the Yanks were in a real sense repossessed by the nation they had shucked since 1776 and sixth-grade history.

"The only thing I knew about England," admitted an Army truck driver from Massachusetts, "was that it was an island off the coast of France." More sophisticated compatriots knew it was filled with lords, butlers and detectives. Thanks to Hollywood, the English were considerably better informed about America. Everyone knew the U.S. was filled with cowboys, gangsters, slaves, millionaires and crooners.

The reality, for both Britons and Americans, produced not culture shock but culture swoon. The greenness and smallness of Britain captivated the Yanks, followed in short order by the beer, fish and chips, pubs, bikes and, of course, the dames. Their hosts were fascinated by Jeeps, all things in cans from jam to ham, jitterbugging, frozen steaks, cigars and the incredible generosity of G.I.'s -- who were paid five times as much as a tommy. There was also the legend of Yankee sexual rapacity and capacity. "They're overfed, overpaid, oversexed and over here," ran the familiar litany -- to which the Yanks had a less quoted riposte about the British: "They're underfed, underpaid, undersexed and under Eisenhower."

Tart and Treacle. The gibes were not always unfriendly though. A generation of British children grew up believing that Santa Claus had an American accent and called all girls Honey. There were more than 70,000 wartime Anglo-American marriages, and the great majority appear to have fared well.

Author Norman Longmate, who has created this nostalgic blend of tart and treacle, had never met an American before 1941, when he was 15 years old. He later served with a combined U.S.-British group in London's Grosvenor Square ("Eisenhowerplatz"), and points out that transatlantic camaraderie had everything going against it, including the barrier of a common language. G.I.'s were startled to hear their girl friends complain that they had been "knocked up" (awakened) during the night. "Say, Honey, what do you do about sex over here?" inquired a hope ful Yank in County Antrim. "Oh," said the girl, "we do be havin' our tea about that time."

Michael Demarest

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