And there was the seedier side, too. The town’s ‘red-light district’ was situated a little to the south on the other side of Ross Creek. Here in Ford Street, behind the Causeway Hotel, was a line of timber ‘workers’ cottages’, nine in all, where sexual services were provided to both American and Australian troops. Given the antipathy that existed between the two – although any show of aggression was invariably sparked by the Australians – this could at times lead to trouble. But there was yet a further complication. The brothels also catered to black servicemen. It seemed the prostitutes, who were mostly white, had no problem at all accepting black men as clients. To many white Americans, particularly those from the south, this fact rankled deeply.

And aggression was not limited to the red-light district. Given the vast numbers of servicemen from differing backgrounds who flooded the streets night and day, displays of hostility were becoming more and more evident even in the relatively innocent parts of town.

‘You niggers get back where you belong!’ the young American snarled.

His buddy immediately joined in. ‘Yeah, you two got no right dancing with white gals!’

Betty Francis and Jill Yiramba froze right where they stood on the footpath of Denham Street just outside the Australian Workers’ Union Hall. They exchanged a look of utter amazement, incredulity even; they’d thought they were in the company of two young, southern gentlemen. Betty just adored the way these boys spoke. Why, only an hour previously, she’d whispered to Jill that Josh and Beau were straight out of Gone with the Wind.

‘Thorough southern gentlemen, Ah do declare,’ she’d whispered, adopting a Scarlett O’Hara accent that had given Jill the giggles.

It was eleven o’clock at night and they’d been to the dance at the American Red Cross Canteen and Recreation Centre, the organisation that had appropriated the AWU Hall. Both girls had felt quite safe accepting the young soldiers’ offer to walk them the several blocks home to The Brown’s. The men were rank and file, admittedly, but they were certainly not roughnecks. These boys were absolute gentlemen. Now, however, it appeared to the girls that these boys were anything but gentlemen.

They’re just a couple of bloody thugs, Betty thought. She wasn’t in the least frightened, there were far too many people milling about in the street, but like Jill, she was shocked by their belligerence.

‘You shouldn’t even be this side of the bridge,’ Josh said accusingly, ‘niggers belong on the south side of the creek.’

‘We’re allowed to come over here,’ the bigger of the two black soldiers firmly replied, standing his ground, although his friend quite obviously wanted to clear off.

‘And just who the hell do you think you are,’ Beau sneered, ‘we seen you in there, dancing with white gals. You got no right.’