Rushden Research Group: G I Brides

G I's & their Brides

During the 1940's, 1950's and 1960's many local girls married the American Servicemen who were stationed at the Chelveston Airbase, with the 'Eighth Airforce'. The men wore 'General Issue' uniforms and became known as GI's. The registers of some of the Rushden Churches bear witness to the numbers of local girls who married them, and then left these shores to start a new life in U.S.A. The servicemen had endeared themselves to the locals with gifts of sweets for children, chocolate and nylons for the girls, and groceries for families which they could get on the base but were in short supply in the local shops.
They also enjoyed themselves at village dances and in the village public houses, and this is how they met the girls.

These two rhymes by R.W.N. are extracted from a book to raise funds for the Rushden St. John Ambulance Motor Ambulance Appeal published in 1980.
G. I. Brides Perhaps, within the last three months You’ve chanced to notice in the press Accounts of many local girls Who’ve wed, and changed their home address? Who’ve said goodbye to Mum and Dad, Then toddled off down Tidworth way To face the rigours of the trip Across the sea to U.S.A. How different it all will be To G.I. brides from Rushden, when They settle down in Idaho Chicago, Detroit, Memphis (Tenn): And those across the prairie wild Midst sunshine in Los Angeles Will bite their grapefruit, orange, peach, And sigh to hear some “Rushden-ese”. New Yorkers watching Broadway lights Will hear the elevated roar And think of High Street traffic jams And total black-out through the war. And when in summer-time they go To Coney Island on the spree, They’ll think of good old Rushden Feast And happy times that used to be. But, G.I. brides we shan’t forget Our local girls in U.S.A. Perhaps we’ll take a flying trip And spend a week-end there some day, You’d be surprised if you should hear A voice on 42^nd Street Say “Ennitot? I dawnarf sweat Shenatter gwout in this ’ere ’eat”. [Say “Isn’t it hot? I'm sweating, I won’t have to go out in this here heat”.]		Memories of the '8th' Through the early mists of sunrise Glides a wide-winged, silver bird 'Forst are off again' we murmer As another plane is heard Roaring closely o'er the roof tops With a cataclysmic sound That assails our shrinking ear-drums As it shakes the quaking ground. Gaining height and swift momentum Scores of war-planes gen the sky, Casting plumes of feathered vapour Through ethereal regions high Then, like brightly coloured rain-drops Groups of crystal flares we see Portent of another Fortree Battering of Germany. Then when evening sun is crimson Comes a slowly swelling roar, As the first returning aircraft Round the Chelveston widely soar Slanting sunrays paint the wing spread As they're banking for decent And on many a gleaming surface Shows a jagged gaping rent. Oft an air-crew, still and crumpled Proves the enemy has scored Red lights twinkling in the belly Warn that wounded are aboard And these massive, weary war-hawks Battle-scarred, touch down once more As another crusade's over In the war to end all wars.

Underwood (Krakovsky)

GI Brides' Parents' Association