"Damned Cheek"

Joan Stocker, 18, was fed up. She and her husband, a U.S. Air Force sergeant, had been living in England for several months and boarding with English families. One day, from Newmarket in Suffolk, she sent a sizzling letter to her hometown paper, the Palo Alto (Calif.) Times. "We are writing," she said, "to let you people back home know just what is going on in the minds of the English . . . They believe [Americans] all have big houses, strings of cars, closets full of clothes and more money than we know what to do with. They charge us all fabulous prices for housing ... we go into shops where prices aren't marked. The prices go up--we're Americans.

"A G.I. is [considered] a drunkard and a spendthrift . . . The English girls fall all over the G.I.s . . . You've never seen so many pickups and camp-follower girls that tramp up and down the streets in this area. You have no idea how we American people and you people back home are talked about. All of us are the objects of remarks which are certainly nervy after what we've done for them."

An Englishman living in California sent a clipping of the letter to the Newmarket Journal, which printed it without comment last week. Newmarket (pop. 9,767) exploded. "Damned cheek!" snorted outraged townsfolk in bus queues and pubs. Growled George Goult, chairman of the urban district council: "I and the rest of the town take a very poor view of it... We shall refute it officially." London tabloids stirred up a fuss.

The only people who weren't outraged were the Stockers' landlords, Postman Sid Taylor and his wife; they were upset. "It's a great pity Joan wrote the letter," said

Mrs. Taylor, "but she and Ron have been our friends since they came here three months ago. They are welcome to stay as long as they like."

Alarmed by the outcry, Joan ducked out of sight. "I dare not leave the house," she said. "The local people might go for me." Said Sergeant Stocker: "As far as I am concerned, the neighbors can complain until their eyes drop out."

U.S. Air Force public relations officers rushed around trying to soothe the townsfolk; at an Anglo-American garden party they talked hands across the sea and dismissed Joan Stocker as an impulsive youngster. At week's end, under their prodding eye, she issued a formal statement: "I would like to emphasize very strongly that I was not referring to the town of Newmarket . . . Our rent is just . . . The neighbors . . . have all been swell ... I am proud to live in Newmarket." Newmarket calmed down a bit again.

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