Army & Navy – To Soldiers’ Wives

A thousand clamoring Englishwomen crowded London’s small Caxton Hall. They demanded immediate transportation to the U.S. They were brides of U.S. servicemen, and they spoke for 40,000 others, all necessarily left behind in the redeployment rush. Many had babies. Many were hard up. Many were just desperately lonely. All wanted space on westbound ships.

To mollify this crowd the U.S. Embassy sent grey-haired Commander Herbert Agar, U.S.N.R., looking like the young Dante in a Navy uniform. Herbert Agar, onetime editor of the Louisville Courier-Journal, for the past two and a half years a special assistant to U.S. Ambassador Winant, has long been an eloquent interpreter of the U.S. to Britain.

“A lot is being done,” he said gently. He assured the wives that they had not been forgotten. Mrs. Louis Sherman, jiggling a baby over her head, broke in to ask why at least a few wives could not be put aboard every troopship.

U.S. troops, Commander Agar explained, had to be sent home first. But his words were lost in the high-pitched storm. In peroration he assured them: “You have been reasonable and sincere—I thank you for your kindness.’ ” He sidled to a side door, and fled.