Rich Relations: The American Occupation of Britain, 1942-1945. - book reviews

Washington Monthly, March, 1995 by Herbert Mitgang

Churchill was right. Americans and Britons did have a special relationship--thousands of them between English women and American servicemen

Once when I was having dinner with Studs Terkel, he mentioned that he had interviewed more than 100 people for an oral history of World War II, but was at a loss for a title. I immediately suggested "The Good War," saying it was the way I and others thought about our generation's war, as compared to the aimless 10-year Vietnam War. After generously crediting me for the title of his book, which received the Pulitzer Prize for nonfiction, the inimitable Studs wrote: "It is a phrase that has been frequently voiced by men of his and my generation, to distinguish the war from other wars, declared and undeclared. Quotation marks have been added, not as a matter of caprice or editorial comment, but simply because the adjective `good' mated to the noun `war' is so incongruous."

His wisdom came to mind while reading Rich Relations, a highly original book by David Reynolds about a largely unexamined aspect of World War II: the interaction between the Americans stationed in England and the British. Reynolds, one of Britain's leading historians, specializes in studies of Anglo-American relations, and his knowledge shows. He subtitles his new book "The American Occupation of Britain, 1942-1945." The only fault I find with the subtitle is that the word occupation doesn't have quotation marks around it. There are, after all, occupations and "Occupations." The Nazi occupation of conquered Europe systematically led its victims to the gas chambers of Auschwitz; the American "Occupation" of Britain led to victory over tyranny.

Reynolds borrows the word from a comment made by George Orwell in December 1943. "It is difficult to go anywhere in London," Orwell said, "without having the feeling that Britain is now Occupied Territory. The general consensus of opinion seems to be that the only American soldiers with decent manners are the Negroes."

Fortunately, Reynolds looks beyond Orwell's stereotype of the loutish American. He writes that the three million Americans who passed through Britain on the way to battle each had experiences as singular as their own personalities. The cliche went that the Americans were "oversexed, overpaid, overfed, and over here." Less familiar was the Yank riposte that the British Tommy was "undersexed, underpaid, under fed, and under Eisenhower." But behind the wisecracks was a plain truth: The GIs who left their homes to aid Britain and defeat a common enemy were not American Hessians.

This spring marks the 50th anniversary of V-E Day, followed in the summer by the fiftieth anniversary of Hiroshima and V-J Day. Ironies abound. Now the two strongest nations in Europe and Asia--economically, not militarily--are Germany and Japan. The downfall of the Soviet and satellite states has led to civil, ethnic, and tribal wars around the world. One reads Rich Relations against a background of unblinkered knowledge of lost empires, shattered alliances, and new hope for stronger international partnerships.

One of the things I found admirable in Rich Relations was that Reynolds looks backward as well as inward, deepening the ideas behind his book. He writes that when Britain went to war in 1939, its main ally was France. Neville Chamberlain, then prime minister, said that it was "always best and safest to count on nothing from the Americans except words." As we all know, Prime Minister Winston Churchill had a larger vision, using language to ignite American sympathies for his beleaguered country and to point out the perils the English-speaking nations faced if Hitlerism prevailed. Churchill said that America and England had, as they do now, a "special relationship."

The major part of Rich Relations concerns the behavior of Americans in uniform. Reynolds has unearthed scores of official and unofficial reports, criminal and marriage records, letters, diaries, and even wartime polls to show how both allies behaved and what they thought of each other. After a survey of the American Eighth Air Force in 1943, its provost marshal concluded: "In general, the American soldier is imbued with a `Limey' complex and has not the desired respect for the British. His feeling toward the British does not amount to an active dislike, but is passive and apathetic. Because of this lack of feeling toward the British, he makes no attempt, generally speaking, to get to know them better."

Like other polls and surveys in war or peace that draw broad conclusions about people's thoughts and emotions, this one sounds cockeyed but the author doesn't challenge it. Instead, he cites opinions by other authorities studying the GI psyche, including the anthropologist Margaret Mead, who wrote in 1944 that "as Johnny thinks of home he learns little in England." She, too, noted that the GI (who wasn't called Johnny) had "practically no contact with English people in groups, with family groups, or clubs, or discussion groups." Obviously, Dr. Mead was a better authority on the sex habits of Samoans than of young Yanks on a weekend pass in London, who were far more interested in the wanton pleasures of Piccadilly Circus than discussing with a nice church group their delight on first looking into Chapman's Homer.