by Ella Carey
But all she could do was stare at him, the boy whom she might never lay eyes on again. It was a likelihood. She’d lain awake most of last night imagining him diving in a bomber plane somewhere out over the Pacific. She’d forced herself not to visualize everything that could go wrong, with the plane, with the Japanese, with sheer bad luck over the ocean. In the end, unable to sleep, she’d padded around the house like a grieving widow.
Harry’s eyes caught hers. His mouth worked a bit, as if he were trying to think of something to say. In the end, he shook his head in one small, imperceptible movement. He reached out for her, pulling her into a rough hug.
Eva buried her face in his shirt.
“You’re going to love the flying. You know that.” His voice was rich and deep and so honest that Eva fought to still her heart. “For pity’s sake, stay safe.”
“You too,” she said. “You too, Harry. And thank you. Thank you for teaching me to fly.”
He held her at arm’s length. “That was my pleasure. I enjoyed every minute of it. It was an honor to help you to fly.”
Hardly knowing what she was doing, the streetlights a blur in the darkness, Eva somehow fled outside.
The neighborhood heaved with silence, and it was as if Harry had already left.
Heat licked the air at the train station several days after Harry’s party, days that had been a whirl of packing and goodbyes and Eva’s mom sulking with pursed lips around the house. The train loomed on the tracks, and Eva stood with Nina and their parents on the platform, crowded with other young folks going off to war.
Nina threw her kit bag on the ground and wrapped her arms around her mother.
“You take care, girl,” Nina’s mom said, her chest heaving with the effort of fighting tears. Jean Rogers would reserve her crying and her weeping for when she got home.
Eva reached for her dad first. “Take care of Mom,” she said, hugging him hard.
Her mother stood clutching her handbag beside them.
She let herself slip into the warmth of her father’s embrace. “I wish I didn’t know so much about airplanes,” he said into her ear. “Sometimes it’s not a blessing to be an aircraft mechanic, especially when your daughter is going to be at the mercy of those darned metal birds we put up into the sky. I’ll keep making the ones I work on as safe as can be.”
Eva stepped back but still maintained a loving touch. “Dad, you know it was you who put that love of flying into my heart. Thank you.”
“I know, my love.”
Eva turned toward her mother, her hand lingering in her father’s for a moment.
Her mother stood opposite her now, implacable, yet looking somehow small out here, dwarfed by the grand surroundings. It was as if her mother had taken on a less menacing demeanor away from home. Eva wanted to hold her and never let her go.
The crowds surged around them. Shouts were obliterated by announcements over the loudspeaker. Signal men whistled and people called goodbye to their loved ones.
“We’d best get on the train, Evie.” Nina was next to her.
Eva stood there, eyes locked with her mom’s.
“Goodbye, sweetie.” Ruth Scott reached out and tucked a stray curl behind Eva’s ear.
Eva stood, handbag in front of her, her khaki cotton suit feeling absurd and formal now. She wished she could fold back the last few heart-wrenching years and try to reconnect with the woman who had raised her.
Was it too late?
Her mom reached into her pocket and pulled out a small handkerchief wrapped in a little clear plastic slip. It was white, and on it were embroidered two letters, M and E. Meg and Eva.
“You’ll meet new sisters out in Texas,” her mom said. “But don’t forget your old one.”
“Never.” She batted at the tears that fell down her cheeks.
Her mother pressed the small handkerchief into Eva’s hands. Eva leaned into her mother’s embrace, holding her close, before she had to turn, linking her arm through Nina’s.
Eva tucked her mother’s gift into her jacket pocket and went to the waiting train. She didn’t look back.
CHAPTER NINE
THE COMMITTEE: Mrs. Forrest, you have not made clear how it was in any way a disadvantage for those early members of the WAFS and WFTD and the WASP to proceed without Congress recognizing them as part of the military.
EVA FORREST: Right from the outset, there were clear disadvantages to not being military. Jacqueline Cochran’s WFTDs were given worn-out planes and bad equipment. They had no fire trucks, no crash trucks, and only one ambulance, and that just on loan at the Houston airfield, where the WFTD was trained before the move to Avenger Field in Sweetwater, Texas. The women had to fly the dregs that the military did not want. There was also a lot of resentment from male instructors who did not want to have to teach women.
As for further disadvantages, the WFTD was told they would have no housing. They were told to find their own housing. They had to find their own food, there was no funding for meals or any food for them, and they had to find their own transportation to and from the airfield. They were there from 7:45 a.m. until 9:00 p.m. They all had to share the one public restroom on the base, which was usually dirty. They had no uniforms and no allowance to buy uniforms. One woman told me she would not put her dog in the room she had to live in and pay for in a nearby motel. She had to share with rats. When the girls were finally issued uniforms, they were men’s uniforms. And far too big for the women. One, and only one, class graduated from Houston in April 1943, and they were given no wings because they were not military. So Jacqueline Cochran bought them silver wings and paid for them herself.
But still, the flight training program expanded. Women were still willing to come and fly. Jacqueline moved the program to Avenger Field in Sweetwater, Texas, to provide proper accommodation for the girls who wanted to fly and to help with the growing need for pilots. Avenger Field had been used to train male pilots to go to Britain, but they were vacating those facilities. So the program was moved there.
THE COMMITTEE: In spite of these disadvantages you’ve listed here, it did not stop the women or deter their enthusiasm, so why complain?
EVA FORREST: You have to understand, we women were getting to fly. My understanding is that the morale did get very low at Houston with the bad planes, lack of food, and everything else, so the girls did what they could do to cheer themselves up. It was just what we did so that we, too, could feel that we were a part of things, even without the benefits and regulated safety nets that being military would have brought.
Eva leaned her head on the train window, staring out at the flat plains, her eyes closing every now and then and her body aching from all the hours sitting up. Right now, the war seemed as endless and formidable as this journey across Texas, and yet so very far away that it seemed there was little chance anything was real out here in this moonscape of a place. But the war did matter, and it was real, as real as the fact that the dirt driveways that led to the ranches that spread wide and strong over the Texan plains might be empty of boys if everyone didn’t play their part. The headlines on papers at every station shouted the same things, the P-38 aircraft that were being built back at home in Lockheed were seeing action in Europe, the Pacific, and North Africa; the Nazis were kidnapping Polish children with Aryan characteristics; and in the Pacific, photos of the “war without mercy” were accompanied by disturbing slogans saying “Kill Japs, Kill More Japs.”
Eva knew nothing was going to stop her playing her part. And nothing was going to stop Nina either. For the first time in their young lives, something they did was really going to matter.
“Next stop, Sweetwater.” Nina pulled their last two apples out of the bag on her lap, handing one to Eva, taking a bite out of the crisp fruit herself.
“Thank you.” Eva held the apple for a moment. The last piece of food from home. Straight from the tree in Eva’s backyard. Well, it must not go to waste. She took a bite and turned to Nina, taking in her red-rimmed e
yes and the way her hair stuck out in tufts above her two long plaits.
“I sure hope that the arranged transport doesn’t keep us waiting too long.” Nina leaned her head on Eva’s shoulder. “I never thought we’d get here. This journey is something I’m not keen to repeat too often.”
“You’re faring better than me, I think. Last time I went to the restroom, I nearly keeled over with tiredness.”
The two older women who’d been sharing their compartment were both fast asleep. Eva envied them their ability to conk out. All the way, she’d had trouble sleeping. The chance to stare at the landscape had given her the opportunity to reflect on Meg, Harry, and also her mom. One of them gone, one on an ungodly mission, and her mom so sad that it hurt.
The train finally pulled up at the Sweetwater train station, heaving and spluttering to a stop. Eva said her goodbyes to their two traveling companions and followed Nina down the long corridor out to the platform.
A hot wind blew around the isolated station. Nina looked around instinctively for the way out.
“This way,” Nina said, her kit bag next to her on the ground. “We’ve done it. We’re here. The last few weeks have been such a whirlwind. I can hardly believe that we made it to Texas somehow.”
Eva looked down at her little friend. “I’m so relieved to be doing this with you.”
“Oh, me too.” Nina picked up her bag, hauling the canvas tote over her shoulder. “Couldn’t abide doing this myself.” She marched off down the platform, whistling “Comin’ in on a Wing and a Prayer,” Eva keeping pace.
They came to the end of the platform and turned to the front entrance of the station, where they stopped for a moment under a wide veranda on the sidewalk. Heat simmered up from the road. A lone car pulled up, caked in dust and dirt. A man got out, said goodbye to his driver, put on his hat, and ran toward the still-waiting train. Other than that, the road was empty. Eva’s head suddenly spun with tiredness, and she leaned on Nina’s arm.
“Here we go.” Nina breathed the words. She stood up to her full height, her senses clearly alert. “I’d say this is likely our lift.”
Eva yawned, unable to fight the wave of fatigue that engulfed her whole body, dragging her down. She’d become used to the rhythm of the train, and the heat was something else out here. Flies bothered her constantly, zipping around her face.
She looked where Nina was pointing, as a great lumbering sound rattled up the road. “Oh my, is this the way they travel in Texas?”
They were faced with a cattle truck, its cage in back lined with benches.
“I’d say we’d better get used to it,” Nina murmured.
The truck pulled up, coming to a shuddering halt. Eva coughed. Dust blew into her nostrils, her mouth. She’d likely swallowed ten flies. The dust-caked window was hauled down slowly, and a woman in her fifties peered out.
“How are all y’all?”
“Well, we are just fine, ma’am. Thank you for asking.” Nina wiped a hand over her sweaty face and beamed.
“You going to Avenger Field?” the driver asked in her Texan drawl.
“Yes, ma’am.” Nina was perky enough for the three of them.
The woman leaned over in her truck, her sweaty armpits leaving damp pools on her thin floral dress, but her hair was done up neatly in a fashionable style on top of her head, brought into a high roll at the front. “Right you are, girls. Let me see now. Miss Nina Rogers and a Miss Eva Scott?”
“That’s right, ma’am. I’m the Nina Rogers you are looking for, and this beautiful girl here is my friend Eva Scott.”
“Well you’d best git in here with me. My name’s Rebecca. You’re the last two trainees to arrive for your class. You come all the way from Alaska or sumpin’?”
“California, Miss Rebecca.” Nina was clearly in a chatty mood.
Eva thanked goodness for her friend’s perky disposition right now.
“You look dead beat.” Rebecca frowned at Eva. “The heat is sumpin’ awful around these parts. You’ll be boilin’ in them wooden sheds they’ve built for you to sleep in, boilin’ outside too, though. That’s Texas for you.” Rebecca climbed out of the truck. “The girls in your class are all chatterin’ up a dust storm already. Most of ’em arrived last night and were put up at the Blue Bonnet Hotel. I done fifteen round-trips to the station today alone, and this morning, that truck was full of girls from the hotel. Packed in like a tin of fish, they were, and the noise! I can tell you, young girls can talk. I’ll be glad of a cool drink when I git home and a swim in the pool.”
“You have a swimming pool?” Nina followed Rebecca to the back of the truck.
Eva trudged along behind.
“Well, of sorts. We got a nice local swimming pool and all here in Sweetwater, and a smart hotel. You’ll git to know ’em both well enough. This is a close little community out here, and we’re gittin’ used to having a whole bunch o’ lovely girls staying in our heart. When the WASP first came, mind you, we was quite suspicious. But that Jacqueline Cochran, she started up a thing where the girls would come to the townsfolk for Sunday lunches to git to know us. Once we got to know ’em and to share some of our hospitality, well, they were part of our community soon enough. Although, we won’t see you that often. We’ll hear you, is all, flying them planes overhead.”
“Well, that sounds mighty nice,” Nina said. “I’m sure the girls were grateful to you all, Miss Rebecca.”
Eva stepped up into the back of the cattle truck, following Nina, who was already settled inside. Rebecca pushed the bars shut.
“Now you girls make yourselves comfy, and we’ll be there in no time.”
Eva wanted to lie down on the wooden bench and go to sleep.
“You okay?” Nina nudged her. “I’m of a mind you’ll not be wantin’ to look like a girl who is half-asleep when we arrive at Avenger Field.”
“I promise I’ll wake up once we get there,” Eva said.
“Here. You lean against me, Evie. I’ll prop you up.”
They traveled for another half hour, the hot wind blowing hard against either side of the truck, the rattling engine too loud for them to talk. Eva watched the old cotton fields with one eye open, and she counted at least five oil wells on the way to Avenger Field. Finally, Rebecca turned off the main road to a slip road, passing a couple of hangars in the middle of nowhere. Once they got past them, an airfield spread out, and Eva sat up, shading her eyes with her hands. Just look at that.
Rebecca pulled up with a jolt and came around to open the truck.
“That’s my job done for the day. Welcome to Avenger Field.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Eva, suddenly wide awake, was down on the ground before Nina had stood up. Dry red dust swirled up around her legs, forming a film that coated the air. A barbed-wire fence ran the length of the road. And Eva wondered, was that to keep people out or to keep the girls in?
On the airfield behind it sat over one hundred planes.
Eva took a long look at them. Behind her, the sounds of Nina saying her farewells to Rebecca were lost in the excitement of the sight in front of her. They were all there, little primary trainers, the PT-19As; basic training planes, the BT-13 Vultee Vibrators; and, finally, advanced training AT-6s. Eva made out groups of AT-17s with their Cessna twin engines. The planes twinkled in the harsh sunlight.
Twenty-two weeks surrounded by airplanes. Suddenly, she wished she could share this sight with Harry, because painful crush or no crush, her heart swelled with the excitement and the possibilities out here.
Nina was by her side, staring out at it. The sound of Rebecca thundering away in the cattle truck rang into the quiet air.
“Well, will you look at that.” Nina whistled low.
A little farther up the road, there was an entrance, and two girls stood at the gate.
“Think we’d best haul ourselves up that way, given we’re the last arrivals and all.” Eva motioned to Nina. “Let’s go.”
“We’ll get to see plenty of t
hese babies over the next few months.” Nina trudged along next to her.
Once they got to the gate, Eva stopped for a moment. A sassy-looking gremlin was painted over the entry. She wore a red top, yellow pants, and a pair of flying goggles, and on her back, she had a pair of little wings. She looked like she was airborne, and Eva couldn’t help the giggle that rose in her throat.
“Well now, welcome, you two.” A tall girl with neatly pulled-back auburn hair stepped forward and held out a hand. She looked immaculate and freshly washed and as if she dealt with one-hundred-degree heat every day of her life. “Welcome to your new home. I see you’ve spotted our mascot—Fifinella.” The girl pointed up at the sign. “She’s our protector, a nice flying gremlin. Fifi welcomes everyone who attends Avenger Field with a smile on her face.”
The girl waited while Eva and Nina took in Fifinella.
“I’m Helena.”
“I’m Eva Scott, and this is my friend Nina Rogers.”
Nina stepped forward to shake the much taller girl’s hand. “Charmed to meet you, Helena.”
Helena scanned a list that she held. “They gave me the task of welcoming the girls to our class. It’s something I can do. Organize folks.” She pulled out a silver pen, a frown creasing her milky-smooth features, and placed a couple of neat ticks on her list.
Nina caught Eva’s eye and raised a brow.
“We’ve been on that train for days on end,” Nina said. “I hardly know up from down, and yet, I can tell you, the sight of those planes makes me feel like I’ve arrived home at last. But you look like you’re as cool as the sea in summer.”
“You’ve come from California?” Helena asked, looking up from their names on the paper. “No wonder you’re exhausted.”
“All the way from LA,” Eva said.
The other girl standing next to Helena stepped forward.
“This is Nancy.” Helena had a well-modulated voice that sounded like it came from the East Coast, from one of Boston’s or New York’s finest schools. They’d come prepared to meet all sorts of girls, and it seemed that the group would not disappoint.