CHINA: It’s Wonderful

Eleven weeks after war-weary U.S. marines, sailors, airmen whooped into liberated Shanghai, TIME Correspondent John Walker cabled a word portrait of China’s great port:

No question about it, this is some place!

Shanghai is still the metropolis where East & West meet with a loud clanging of political cymbals arid the thunderous tinkle of gold coins. The outward aspect has been little changed. You still see striking contrasts of native houses and vast modern apartment buildings. People swarm in the streets and traffic is a surging, endless stream of fatalistic pedestrians, caracoling bicycles, shoals of rickshas and fleets of pedicabs, which are a weird but surprisingly efficient combination of ricksha and bicycle.

But, under the surface, Shanghai is radically changed. The most important undercurrent now is almost universal uncertainty. The most fundamental change is in the city government. Foreign control by the taipans—businessmen—is no more. The old, British-dominated municipal council is gone. The mayor is plump, round-faced, impassive Chien Ta-chun, an old follower of the Generalissimo. Some 20 Chinese councilmen run the municipal departments, amid a plenitude of teacups, basins, hot towels and hot-water thermos jugs (the Chinese believe in working comfortably). You still see the picturesque bearded Sikh policemen directing traffic, but they will be repatriated. U.S. MPs and Shore Patrols are around, but they concentrate on buildings where Americans live or go for fun.

Tears & Steaks. Shanghai is still China’s biggest and most cosmopolitan city. But it has been isolated for years. Shanghai’s frantic trading is all smalltime stuff—as though New York’s retail stores were going like mad with no wholesaling, manufacturing or shipping. The national government probably will regard Shanghai as its wicked Wall Street and keep a firm hand on the city.

Old Shanghai hands weep on your shoulder and tell you how terrible all this is, compared to the lush old days. But U.S. servicemen are enjoying themselves in the fattest, gayest and wickedest city in the Pacific theater—that is, for people with cash.

The Navy has about 7,000 men here, the Army about 6,000. Air Force characters drift in & out. Those who want company pick up White Russian or Chinese girls. Restaurants and cafes have beer, Scotch and vodka, steaks, pastries and swell Chinese food. It all seems wonderful after the healthy but tasteless service chow.

Bars and nightclubs are going strong. One is named the Radar, another the Atomic Cafe. There is one Jeep Cabaret already and another is opening soon. One pretty nice joint is called the Eventail Nightclub.

The best place is the Mandarin Club, which seats only 42 and charges $3.50 to $4.50 (U.S.) for drinks.

All food is precious. Housing is short. Shanghai’s 200,000 Jewish refugees are still in the Hongkew quarter and a few have to live in refugee camps. Of all Shanghailanders, Jews face the most uncertain future. They dream of America in the same way as devout Americans dream of paradise.

Shanghai has another interesting group of people: the Japanese, living very quietly and keeping themselves as unobtrusive as possible.

A Matter of Sardines. For everybody, money is one of the worst problems. You have to carry bales of currency; even little boys and beggars carry wads of bank notes in their hands. The papers tell of an elderly gentleman who died of shock after leaving $40 million in a pedicab. I sympathized until I figured out that it was about 133 U.S. dollars.

The inflation is a murderous handicap to trade. There is a wonderful Shanghai story of a case of sardines which was traded around in maybe 20 transactions with everybody making money. Then one smart guy opened a can, then several others picked at random; all were bad. Outraged, he called up the last seller and complained. Cried the seller: “You opened them? My God, man! Those sardines aren’t for eating, they’re for buying and selling.”

But with all its troubles Shanghai still has the optimism of the gambler who knows he is going to fill his flush and take the pot. One U.S. businessman bent my ear for half an hour with his troubles: lack of cooperation from the State Department, the Chinese “squeeze,” Chinese undependability, etc. Then I asked him if the city had any future at all. He leaned over, gripped my shoulder and half whispered: “My boy, Shanghai is due for the biggest boom in history!”