Singapore, April 10, 1943
The whistle blew. The last men of the wave departed. There was ungainly trampling and bodies bumping into each other as men tightened their gear and made sure their shoes were tied.
The whores relaxed. Another shift was coming in. The American draftees were not particularly hard to please; they paid cash and they paid far better than the local rate. Most of the extra money went to the brothel owners and the rough men who offered “protection,” but some made it into their pockets. Most of the new customers were anxious to become men before they had to storm ashore.
Business had been booming. The girls had been working in shifts for the past week and rumors had it that the boom would end soon enough. Even as they made ready for another round, the house mothers walked up and down the hallway, handing out more rubbers (a requirement from the medical officers who were willing to turn a blind eye to brothels that would keep the men healthy enough) and ordering a few of the girls who had been with too many men to take a break. Replacements scurried from the canteen to the work rooms.
Warring and whoring went together, and soon another whistle blew.
Sounds like the Singapore version of Honolulu's Hotel St.