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Pov of Unemployed British
12-13-May-1920
''Shit… Shit… How can it be so bloody hard to find a fucking job?'' I muttered while kicking a stone after being rejected for who knew how many times during that damned day.
It had not even been a month since I had returned home after spending some time as a prisoner of the Germans in the Baltic. I had had the bad luck of not being demobilized after the peace was signed in 1919. Instead of sending me back to Blighty and letting me return to civilian life, they sent me to the Baltic, where I ended up captured a few months later after going through a true hell.
Snipers, artillery and Germans who fought like lions for every inch of beach we managed to take. We spent hours without sleep, enduring their attacks while those bastards desperately tried to drive us off the coast.
After that, I spent several months as a prisoner and, strange as it was, the Jerries had treated me better than my own government did when I returned.
When we came back to the island, a military parade was waiting for us, one most of us had to take part in. We celebrated, supposedly, the second victory over the Germans.
Apparently, we had won, although on the battlefield they had done nothing but kick our arses every time the Germans felt like fighting.
Everywhere people said that Poland had been liberated, that Ukraine was free and that the German nobleman would only remain in power temporarily. According to the newspapers, the government wanted to preserve an intermediary country between Germany and Russia, and had managed to subdue the German into serving British interests.
But from where I was standing, it seemed as if we had gone to the Baltic for nothing.
The German nobleman was still ruling. Poland and Ukraine were supposedly free, but the reason they had sent us there had been to drive him out of Riga. In the end, he had ended up more firmly in his position than before, and now he even had the blessing of the king and the prime minister.
We were given the back pay we were owed for our service. In my case, it was nearly thirty-two months of pay, the time I had spent at the front since I was recruited.
But the amount was miserable.
Prices and civilian wages had risen so much while we fought that our military pay had practically been reduced to wet paper. I barely had enough money to survive a couple of months after losing years of my life in the trenches, shooting at the Jerries.
Worst of all was that they had promised government-subsidized houses for most veterans.
Homes fit for heroes, but it seemed the houses were missing from that slogan, and it was nothing but a bloody joke.
The prime minister had made that promise some time ago, but not even half of what had been announced had been fulfilled. And the worst part was that there was not a damned job either.
The only reason my family was still standing was that my brother had continued working with my father while I was away. My wife had also found a job during the war, but she was dismissed shortly after everything ended.
Now, at home, we were truly struggling.
I had spent weeks looking for work without finding absolutely anything. It was beginning to drive me mad. I had asked everywhere and was willing to accept any labor, no matter how degrading, but I always found the positions already taken.
It was common to run into other veterans like me looking for work in factories, docks, warehouses or anywhere with a higher turnover of workers. But even those opportunities had shrunk since soldiers began returning en masse to civilian life.
Too many Tommies and too little work.
''I don't know what the hell I'm going to do. I'm spending everything I earned in the trenches just to pay for food while living with my parents. On top of that, the soles of my shoes are ruined from walking around asking for work'' I said while bringing a hand to my forehead.
I felt a strong pressure behind my eyes.
''Don't even say it. We're all in the same hole'' Edward replied. ''Imagine my situation. I have to pay rent that's through the roof. This bloody inflation ate up everything we earned, which was already a misery, and rationing keeps food at absurd prices''.
''Those houses the prime minister promised aren't even close to being finished. And it's clear the landlords aren't going to waste the chance to raise rents with the excuse that everything costs more'' James said while taking out a cigarette packet.
''Do you mind?'' Edward asked, pointing at one.
''Sure, take it. These will be the last cigarettes I can buy for a good while anyway. I'll have to tighten my belt if I don't find decent work. Soon I won't be able to afford anything but oats and legumes'' James replied while offering one to each of us.
The three of us lit our cigarettes with the same match and began to smoke.
It was a habit that had stayed with us from the trenches, one of the few things we could do to relax while waiting for the next bombardment or the order to go over the parapet.
I felt the smoke fill my lungs and began thinking about what the hell I could do to earn a living.
The only alternative would be to leave the city and try my luck in the mines or in the countryside. Perhaps there I could find some work, even if it was temporary.
But everything was too difficult.
There was fierce competition among the thousands of veterans returning home and looking for any way to earn their bread. Men who had survived machine guns, gas and artillery were now fighting over unloading crates at a dock or sweeping the floor of a factory.
''And what have you heard about the captain? Maybe he has something for us'' I asked, looking at my companions.
''He joined a group of socialists and now leads protests against the government over inflation and taxes. Many of them were supposed to be temporary, only to finance the war, but not a single one has gone down yet'' Edward explained after moving the cigarette away from his mouth.
''Well, I suppose that…'' James began to say, but then we heard a crowd of shouting voices and hurried footsteps.
We were on a corner, venting about our problems with some old comrades from the army, when we saw four men running desperately while a crowd chased them with sticks.
''Shit. They are lynching the black men'' Edward said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth.
For some reason, those fellows looked in our direction and decided to turn right, down the only street they still had available.
''That street has no exit'' I warned while watching the mob rush in after them.
A few seconds later, we began to hear screams.
''Better get out of here'' I said while putting away what was left of the cigarette.
We quickly moved away from the place. It seemed another riot was beginning to form, something that had become far too common in that area.
There were protests over work, either because there were not enough jobs or because the few available were absolute rubbish, with miserable wages and endless hours. Unless one had the luck to get a position protected by a trade union, the bosses could make you work all the hours they bloody well pleased.
But, with things the way they were, getting a unionized job was almost as hard as finding a sack full of gold coins lying in the middle of the street.
Now it seemed some had decided to take it out on the black men and, from how everything was getting worse, they would probably soon do the same with anyone from another part of the Empire.
Indians, Chinese, Irishmen or any poor devil who spoke differently and accepted working for a few coins less.
When evening began to fall, I returned home with nothing else to do. I had found no work, and a large protest organized by the railway workers' union was blocking several streets. They were demanding a pay raise and better working conditions.
It was better to leave before some nervous copper decided to split my head open with his truncheon just for standing too close.
''Any luck, son?'' my father asked as soon as I entered the house.
''No, father. I got nothing'' I replied, lowering my head.
''I spoke with my friend, the carpenter, to see if he could hire you, but no luck there either. You have no experience and today about fifteen people who have spent years in the trade went to ask him for work'' my father explained, looking away.
''Yes, father. Things are difficult'' I said while scratching my head.
Silence soon took over the room.
We had not spoken much since my return. My mother had died shortly after I was sent to France, and it seemed her loss had affected my father deeply.
I approached my wife to help her with the children and also helped my brother's wife. It was the only useful thing I could do while I continued living under that roof.
Finally, I heard the door open. My brother entered the house and my father stood up to greet him.
''Look, father. I got some bacon. A good piece. What do you say you eat a little?'' my brother said with a smile.
''William'' I greeted him.
''Hello, Thomas. Everything all right? Things got ugly in the streets. They are killing people'' he replied while approaching to embrace me.
''Just what we needed. Now they are killing each other in the middle of the street too'' I said, looking at my brother.
''From your expression, I suppose there was no luck either. But hey, tomorrow is another day'' he replied while handing the piece of bacon to my wife.
She took it to the kitchen and began cutting it into small portions so it would be enough for everyone.
As usual, I had a terrible night.
I could not stop thinking that my money was running out and that I could not find any way to support my family. Every time I managed to close my eyes, I imagined the coins disappearing from my pockets and the same words repeating over and over again.
The next morning, I ate a little oatmeal with bread and went out again to look for work, just as I had done every day since my return.
I began asking in factories, workshops, warehouses and any other place I found open.
While I walked through the city, I ended up running into Edward on the same corner as always. From his expression, it seemed he had also gone through another unsuccessful day.
Almost at the same hour, James appeared, although he looked much happier than before. He seemed to be holding back enormous joy.
''Lads, guess what. I got a job'' James announced, spreading his arms.
''Where?'' Edward asked.
''I do not know exactly. The name is German and, although I can say a few things in their language, I could not understand it. All I know is that it is a company that sells fertilizers and imports rubber to the Baltic'' James explained.
''Wait… Are you going back to that socialist nobleman?'' Edward asked, raising an eyebrow.
''Yes. And the best part is that I will work at the port, loading and unloading his goods. They are also going to give me a house. It will depend on the size of my family, but it will be a real house. I will be able to forget about the bloody rent that is bleeding away all my savings'' James replied with a broad smile.
''James, for God's sake… He is the enemy. He is German and, on top of that, a socialist. They do not even have the right to vote there'' Edward said, clearly worried.
''So what? I have a wife and three children to feed, as well as rent to pay. I would rather smile at a Jerry and speak to him politely than spend all day wondering how the hell I am going to support my family'' James replied.
''You cannot be serious… Thomas, say something to him'' Edward asked, looking at me in distress.
I clenched my teeth for a few seconds.
''The days there were not bad…'' I finally admitted.
''But how…? For God's sake'' Edward murmured, covering his face with one hand.
''They are also hiring anyone who wants to work in their warehouses. The job mainly consists of moving sacks and crates to the trucks, so they can later take them to the railway station'' James added.
Edward let out a sigh.
''I suppose work is work'' he finally said.
''True'' I replied with a smile.
We accompanied James to the city's port area, where we found a large crowd of men looking for work. Apparently, the news that the company was hiring had spread quickly.
Fortunately, we had a skill many of the others did not possess: we understood the basics of German.
The company foremen were German and, although they spoke English, they preferred hiring people capable of understanding some orders in their language. Thanks to that, I finally got a position.
The pay was not especially good. From what I knew, it was more or less the usual for a warehouse worker.
Even so, I was happy.
At least I would no longer have to return home every evening with my head lowered and tell my father that I had found nothing.
However, what truly caught my attention was that James planned to move to the Baltic.
The possibility of going with him began to circle in my mind. Not because of the work, not even because of the salary. It was because of the house.
Living crammed into a single room inside my father's home was not the life I wanted for my daughters. If the homes offered by that socialist nobleman were anything like the houses where we had lived during our captivity, perhaps it really was worth moving there with him.
I could bear working for a Jerry.
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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
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