There
was total discrimination against blacks in the Navy in those days. The few of them in the Navy were limited to
being cooks and mess attendants and they were trained in separate boot
camps. On ships or shore bases, blacks
had separate living quarters. They were
seldom seen on liberty and quietly disappeared into native or Filipino sections
of town.
The
most rigid discrimination in Honolulu involved the many prostitutes that manned
the several cat houses of the tenderloin.
They were governed by the iron fist of “Pistol” Adkins (I may have his
last name wrong , but his nickname was “Pistol”), the head of the Honolulu vice
squad. I do not recall all of the
thirteen laws that governed the Honolulu whores, but some of them were: Never go
near Waikiki. Never use public transportation
except taxis. Never go to a public beach
except at Kailua across the island on the windward side. Never be seen afoot on the streets of
Honolulu. Do not try to buy
property. Violations brought swift
retribution from Adkins in the way of fines, jail time, and deportation
stateside or to some other part of the South Pacific.
Controlled
prostitution was condoned by the civil and military authorities for the reasons
that it had always existed in Hawaii and, with the massive influx of military
personnel in those years, local females would be at peril if there were not “camp
followers” to satisfy male appetites for a fair price. (In 1941 the going price was two dollars—excluding
high priced call girls who serviced the officers. Thus, a two-dollar bill was commonly known as
a “whore house dollar”.) The cat houses
operated openly with neon signs such as “Nuuanu Room” and pimps stood on street
corners handing out books of matches advertising various houses.
On
our limited budgets, we did not spend a lot of liberty time in the environs of
Waikiki, but we knew how to have a good liberty on a small amount of cash. Bar drinks were relatively cheap as were
movies. Instead of patronizing a
restaurant when we were having supper ashore, we patronized little saimen
stands that long preceded fast food joints.
There
was on saimen stand that we frequented two or three blocks down Beretania toward
Nuuanu anal. It was simply a canvas
enclosure set up on the corner of a vacant lot.
It had two or three bare wood tables and in a corner there was a cooking
pot and a charcoal brazier. For
thirty-five cents we could get a bowl of noodles (the saimen) and a couple of
strips of nikoo (thin slices of beef strung on a stick and roasted on the
brazier). Dick always insisted the Glover
and I go there for evening chow when we went ashore together because he had
taken a shine to the chubby, friendly little Japanese waitress. I do not know if he ever made any real
headway with her or not since it was a family operation and Mama-san and
Papa-san kept a pretty close eye on her form the cooking corner.
Hawaii
was, indeed, a “melting pot” of nationalities, particularly in the lower
classes. Pure Hawaiians were
disappearing as the natives intermarried with Japanese, Filipinos. Chinese, and
Caucasians. A person of partly white
blood was known as a “hap-haole”. More
and more the typical Hawaiian was of mixed blood, usually Asiatic and Hawaiian.
More
than on American sailor happily married a slender and beautiful Hawaiian girl. An AMM!c, Carpenter, in VP-23 was an
example. His Hawaiian wife, Ludi, became
one of my favorite people. She and “Carp”
lived in a small house in Kaneohe with their five kids. It was sort of a second home for many of us
and she was kind of a surrogate mother.
She was typically gracious and happy.
I never saw Ludi upset except after the war began and Carpenter wanted
to send she and the children to family stateside. She refused to leave the islands.
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