"Robertsfield Liberia" by Keith Dyon

I was stationed in Jui, Sierra Leonne - a part of British West Africa attached to the R.A.F.  However, down the coast in Liberia, at the American station of Robertsfield, the R.A.F. had a small contingent of about 20 people to service their mail & transport D.C. - 3 planes which flew up and down the African coast.  As part of the set-up there was a radar beacon and there had to be a radar type to look after this beacon so, every one of our guys would be sent down there for a couple of months.  It was a piece of cake as the beacon was classed 'inoperative' so we really had nothing to do - just enjoy the leisure and sunshine!  The station was divided into 3 camps.  We, the R.A.F. had a small camp.  Then there were the 'white' and 'black' American sections.  We were closer to the 'black' section and they kindly allowed us to use their PX store, their bar, their movies, etc.  We did not very often go into the 'white' American camp as it was quite a distance from our own.  I went once to  a show there - a Gershwin production and went into the radar section.  One of the guys there, from Minneapolis, mentioned that he'd been to Winnipeg many times so we had a little bit in common.  We were treated very well in the 'black' American camp but I used to be quite wary of the 'black' M.P.'s .  They went around the camp with big 45 automatics strapped to their thighs.  It was said that if caught doing anything wrong, they would shoot and find out who you were later!  I was shocked to learn that the 'black' Americans referred to the local natives as 'black bastards'.  I had thought they would refer to them, to all of us, as 'brothers'.  One evening, as we were having our supper, a black soldier came staggering into our mess hall.  He said he'd been out of bounds and was inhibriated and he'd been shot in the foot by one of the M.P.'s!  One of our men took him back to his base.
One day when I was there, we had a very important visitor - the American Secretary of State, Edward Stitinious.  He was on an inspection tour in a very posh Skymaster aircraft heading for the far east. 
At the back door of Robertsfield you stepped into a Firestone rubber plantation.  The people who ran this were all 'white' Americans and they had every convenience including houses built on pillars to avoid animals, insects and the like.  There were 'houseboys' to do most of the work.  There was also a very large store with refrigeration - things that weren't anywhere else.  I happened to be at Robersfield when the war with Germany ended and we had a huge party!  The Americans from Firestone volunteered to come to our camp that evening and the men were entertained by our superiors, but the women came to our mess hall and danced the night away with us to the music of the 'white' American orchestra.  Most of these people were from Akron, Ohio - home of Firestone.  We thought it was very kind and considerate of them.
It was only a day or so later when I was on the mail plane headed back for Sierra Leone.  I didn't see the ground until a tree or two went past the window and we were landing.  We could not see the ground becasue we travelled through a dust storm - dust from the desert.  I recall the door to the cockpitt swinging open; the pilot and co-pilot were both looking at magazines and the plane flying on automatic pilot!  But we made it safely.  I wonder if Robertsfield is still active?  Liberia was highly Americanized and the natives all had Anglo-Saxon names whereas in British West Africa they were all akin to 'Amadu' or 'Abu'.