All through the grim years of the Great War or World War I (1914-18) T&T showed its commitment to the British metropole in the enlistment of scores of men for service in Europe. These troops were divided along the established colonial lines of colour, being separated into the Public (black) Contingents and the Merchants and Planters (white) Contingents.
When the conflict ended, the Public Contingents arrived home first. They were ferried ashore on a crowded barge like cattle, marched two miles up to the Queen’s Park Savannah where they were tersely addressed by Governor Sir John Chancellor and disbanded. Their commitment to the ‘mother country’ was discarded like so much garbage. The emotions of dissent, alienation and rage felt by these men would eventually boil over into the first real throes of a labour movement in the colony.
The treatment accorded to the white contingents was certainly different. They were treated as heroes for whom the best could never be too good. A whirlwind round of parties and fetes began in their honour and it was deemed fit that some permanent establishment be initiated in appreciation of their service. This was piloted by the wife of Leon Centeno, one of the richest cocoa planters in Trinidad.
The very same governor who had dismissed the black troops without a second glance, supported her initiative and offered the site of the recently-relocated St Ann’s Boys’ Government School as the site for a serviceman’s club. This spot was just southeast of where Belmont Circular Road joins the Queen’s Park Savannah.
Funds were raised through balls and dances at the Queen’s Park Hotel, the Grandstand and Prince’s Building (now the location of Napa) with the cocoa estate owners and white merchant class being generous subscribers since it was for their sons the effort was being made.
The building spot was leased to the incorporated Sailors and Soldiers Club at the price of one shilling per year. Associated with this organisation was the Royal Air Force Club which would also have quarters in the edifice, being a separate annex to the back of the premises.
A large, two-storey structure was designed by Dr Maxwell Johnstone and erected at considerable cost. On the ground floor was a gallery complete with an in-house bar and a dining area opening into a courtyard. Large arches, reminiscent of Spanish architecture, defined the outer façade.
Upstairs functioned as a hostel with showers, dormitories and private rooms available for members.
On June 14, 1922, the Sailors and Soldiers Club was handed over and then began the round of social occasions which was to define its existence for the next 35 years. Annual Christmas balls and Carnival Dances were held here along with benefits for charitable causes.
The club facilities were ostensibly open to all servicemen of the Navy and Merchant Marines but, of course, given the prevailing prejudices of the time, it was tacitly understood that this was an invitation extended to whites only.
The years of World War II saw the club being constantly utilised as many people occupied its hostelry while fund-raisers for the Empire were held in the gallery. Its courtesies were expanded to include officers of the American forces stationed in the island from 1941 under the Bases Agreement.
In 1957, the lease of the Sailors and Soldiers Club expired and was not renewed. It was a different social environment altogether in the post-WWII years which saw the dismantling of many of the old exclusionist establishments in the face of the rise of a wave of nationalism which had found its face a year earlier in the political ascendancy of Dr Eric Williams—a wave which would in a few years lead to Independence.
The building became the location of the Central Library. The administrative functions of this department as well as book storage moved to the old clubhouse. Many people can remember the iconic ‘bookmobiles’—the rural mobile library service—being parked here.
Despite the change in usage, the RAF Club maintained its activities in the portion of the structure that it was originally allocated. Like most historic buildings that fall under the purview of the public sector, the clubhouse began to deteriorate from a lack of maintenance. In a couple decades after the Central Library moved in, the collapsing ceilings, cracked walls and malfunctioning plumbing heralded the inevitable fate that came in 1984 when it was finally demolished, ending an interesting chapter in the history of local built heritage.