by Ella Carey
Eva was next in line. Once a fresh Fairchild primary trainer was at the ready, once she’d carried out her preflight inspection with Reg right alongside her, just as Helena had done in the other plane, Eva stepped on the wing and climbed into the front cockpit.
If Reg hadn’t been sitting behind her, she would have broken into song when the plane lifted off the ground, no matter the menacing weather, even with wind buffeting the aircraft and her forehead slick with perspiration. The base spread out below her, and the great menacing Texan sky started throwing welcome drops of rain into the cockpit. Eva felt her mouth widen into a grin.
She was flying. And flying made everything worthwhile.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE COMMITTEE: Because Jacqueline Cochran did not insist on militarization for the WASP, was it then her actions that were detrimental to your chances of military recognition, rather than anything to do with Congress at the time?
EVA FORREST: In defense of Jacqueline Cochran, she was running the entire WASP training program. Even though she did allow the program to continue without militarization, she worried about trying to sort out the salary situation, acquiring insurance for us, death benefits, and adequate medical and dental care, and she had to sort these matters out herself. She was responsible for our moral image, for managing and disciplining us, and for discharge of WASP who broke the rules. She designed the Santiago-blue uniforms we wore officially and the wings that she paid for and gave us on graduation, and then she had to work out which bases we would be sent to after we graduated and how she could get all the bases to conform to air force regulations when it came to their dealings with us WASP. She was working on the issue of militarization, but she was also working on all these other things, and at the same time, her health deteriorated.
THE COMMITTEE: But while Mrs. Cochran was running your program, you were not trained in the full military way, like male pilots were.
EVA FORREST: The only aspect that our training did not cover was combat maneuvers, as the idea from the outset was that we would free up men for combat roles. Other than that, our training was exactly the same as that of male military pilots. In every sense, sir. We covered everything, from every aspect of ground school to all areas of flight. And out in Texas, we did so while freezing and roasting, in conditions that could only be described as tough.
A few weeks into training, Eva took one last look over the wide Texan plains that spread below the aircraft, the steady buzz of the prop engine a welcome companion to the great stillness below. The sky around her was azure, and only a couple of long slivers of wispy cloud were visible above the far horizon. Her first solo flight at Avenger Field had gone by like a dream, and before beginning landing procedures, Eva sent a little thought out into the sky for Meg. How she would have loved to be here with Eva and Nina and the other girls right now. Eva brought her hand up to the little silver necklace she wore for her lost sister, where it sat for as long as she could possibly wear it.
“Delta Forty-Two requesting permission to land,” she radioed the control tower. And this flight was for you, Meg, she thought.
“Delta Forty-Two, permission granted.”
Eva entered the circuit area.
“Calling downwind.”
“Roger, Delta Forty-Two.”
Eva continued downwind until she was at exactly a forty-five-degree angle, then turned crosswind and put her flaps down for landing. She reduced her speed and carried out her checks, Harry’s voice in her head, reminding her to do everything thoroughly. She was more than keen to hear from Harry. Whenever the mail run came in, she would hope and pray that there’d be a letter. So far, nothing. She hated to think of the risks he was taking. If she could, she’d go dive-bombing herself if that would keep him safe.
At one thousand feet, Eva checked that her fuel pump was on, the mixture rich, checked her door, felt her harness to ensure it was secure. And once she was at five hundred feet, she started slowly decreasing her speed.
Eva frowned in concentration. Instructor Tilley would be checking her every move from the ground. It had been strange not having him in the back cockpit, but Eva had woken this morning early, knowing that she was ready to take the plane out solo and be assessed.
She had the PT-19A at landing speed at exactly the right spot. Eva pulled the throttle back with her right hand, her left hand on the control stick. Taking off and landing were instinctive to her after Harry’s and then Reg’s expert teaching, but she still made certain that she ran through procedures in her head to be sure.
She kept an eye on the airspeed indicator to maintain the right speed and not drop. The back wheel landed first, and Eva allowed herself a huge grin. She taxied back to the hangars and turned off the engine.
Once she was out and on the searing-hot pavement, she took off her helmet and unwound her turban, letting her curls fly loose. Reg stepped forward and shook her hand.
“Well done, Eva. I was extremely happy with that.”
“I’m just thankful for the flying conditions.”
“Credit where credit is due. I think you have a tradition to uphold . . .”
The moment he turned, it was as if he’d given permission to her flight-group mates to let loose. Rita was there first.
“Right, girls, let’s get her up!”
Rita knelt down, and Eva climbed onto the tall girl’s shoulders.
“Am I too heavy?” she squeaked.
“Nonsense, you’re light as a leaf.”
The others swirled around her. “Golly, you’re going to enjoy the fountain.” Nina laughed, grinning up at Eva and reaching to take her hand.
Nina’s hair was still slick and damp from her dunking in the fountain after her solo right before Eva’s. Rogers came before Scott, the way it had always been for them from the time they went through grade school. It was no different now that they were flying airplanes to help with the war.
Eva swayed on Rita’s shoulders, and once they’d made the short journey to the little fountain at the edge of their training center, Rita knelt down.
Nancy, Helena, Nina, and Rita each took an arm or a leg. Between them, they swung her slowly into the fountain. Eva sank into the cool water, letting it wash over her for a moment before standing up, her zoot suit soaked, and throwing a fist in the air.
“Congratulations!” the girls yelled in unison, and in the sheer joy of that moment, Eva swore if there wasn’t a war on, she’d be the happiest, most content girl in the world.
That night, the air was ever so still. No breeze came to soothe the ovenlike Texan heat. Eva lay on her cot, sheets thrown off, arms folded behind her head. Rivulets of perspiration ran down her toned stomach. Their calisthenics instructor had shown no mercy because it was searing hot. Instead, she’d pushed the girls harder as they jumped and followed every exercise out on the relentlessly hot tarmac. Eva’s pulse had taken ages to slow down afterward, and even a cool shower had not given her relief.
She turned on her side. Nina faced her, eyes open, fanning her face with an exercise book.
“What’s up, Nina?” Eva asked.
Nina stopped fanning herself. “I’m stifled and I can’t sleep, Evie.”
Eva sat up, pulling her knees toward her chest. “What say we drag our cots outside? If there’s gonna be a breath of air, we’re not going to see it in this bay. I heard that we have permission.”
Nina sat up too. “Grand idea.”
Rita sat up. “Wait. I’m coming too.”
Eva scanned Bea’s, Helena’s, and Nancy’s sleeping forms. Rita grabbed the top end of Nina’s bed, and Eva and Nina backed out the screen door, holding the foot of the cot and placing it on the dry brown grass. Already, a number of cots from other bays were dotted around the lawn between the buildings. The soft sounds of snoring filtered into the quiet night.
Eva looked up. The stars glittered against the pitch-black sky. At least she’d have something beautiful to gaze up at if she still couldn’t get to sleep out here. It sure beat th
e plain old ceiling above her bed.
She followed Rita and Nina back inside, padding in the quiet darkness, to bring the other two beds out before climbing into hers, lying, and staring at the night sky, allowing her mind to drift off, allowing it to float into thoughts of Harry and what he might have gotten up to today . . .
It seemed like only a flicker of time had gone by when the sky gradually lightened, the great blanket of darkness just beginning to reveal the pink sunrise that would bloom like a gorgeous bright flower over the Texan plains.
Eva sat up and stretched, swinging her legs over the side of her bed. She checked her watch, and it was only five thirty.
“Oh my!” Rita’s shout hurled out into the air.
Eva jumped off her bed.
“Something’s bit me.”
In a flash, Nina was over to Rita too, pushing her braids behind her back. Eva scouted the ground.
“Help!” Rita shouted.
“Do you think it was a snake?” Eva couldn’t see any critters.
“It’s on my leg, in my pajamas.” Rita’s glance sprung around the field. “I’ve got to get them off.”
“No men in sight, as if there would be at this hour,” Nina said.
Rita heaved off one pajama bottom leg to reveal a great red swelling halfway down her thigh.
Eva glared at the sight of the critter crawling across Rita’s bed. “I see the culprit.” A three-inch scorpion scuttled through her sheets.
“Catch it in a jar! No, don’t. Get some ice,” Nina said.
Eva ran to the mess hall, rattled the door, almost slumped with relief when it bounced open, and hurtled straight to the refrigerator. Yanking the door open, she pulled out a handful of ice. She grabbed a clean linen tea towel, slammed the wooden drawer shut, and belted back out to the lawn, where a small crowd of girls had gathered around Rita.
Bea was in the middle of them, holding the offending scorpion in her jar.
Nina was bathing Rita’s swelling wound with a wet, soapy towel.
“Brilliant, Eva. Pass the ice.” Rita breathed. Her chest rose and fell too fast, and she was white with pain, her forehead running with perspiration.
“Lie down on your stomach,” Eva said.
Rita wafted down onto her bed, her face contorting as she rolled onto her stomach. She clutched Nina’s hand, her knuckles white, and Eva pressed the cold compress of ice against her swollen leg.
“Well, we’ve got your attacker, and as soon as the sick bay opens, we’ll get you there,” Nina said.
“You go get ready, girls. I can’t move right now.” Rita turned her head to one side, her face contorting into a grimace.
“She’s right,” Bea said. “I’ll keep the attacker away until we’ve all showered and dressed. Then we’ll get that cot of yours inside, make up your bed, and get you straight to treatment.”
A group of girls had gathered to inspect the striped bark scorpion that flickered around inside Bea’s jar.
“I’ve an idea,” Helena said.
“Well, if it’s good, I’ll be glad to hear it.” Rita spoke through gritted teeth.
Helena laid an arm on Rita’s head. “I suggest we don’t leave any bits of sheet hanging down from our cots when we sleep out here, nothing that could give a critter a hold.”
“Brilliant, Helena.” Rita winced. “My, this thing stings to high heaven.”
“Ten past six,” Helena said, her hand stroking Rita’s head. “You girls go get in the shower.”
Nina held the door open to their bay. “Rita was lucky. Those sorts of scorpions are the common ones. But that sure gave her an alarm bell she didn’t need.”
“The other day, I heard a tale of a girl waking up to find a two-inch-long roach eating a hole in her slippers,” Eva said.
“Well, I heard that sometimes plagues of locusts come visit Avenger Field.” Nina picked up her towel and slung it over her shoulder.
Eva shuddered. “Apparently, they line the runway so thick that the airplanes skid on them on landing.”
“Ugh. Well, seems we have two choices. We either boil in our bays and don’t sleep, or spend our nights crawling with critters.”
Nina disappeared into the shower stall.
None of them mentioned that Sweetwater was the rattlesnake capital of the world.
Desert heat pierced the long days under the relentless sun. In the open-air cockpits, the sun seared through zoot suits, heads sweat in tight turbans, and faces burned until they were all red. Sweat trickled down the girls’ cheeks while they flew, and their hair became wet pools, slick against their heads. Inside, during ground school, it felt like the barracks and hangars were on fire while they labored over algebra, navigation, and meteorology. Tin roofs absorbed heat. Their five o’clock calisthenics went ahead every day out on the tarmac in air like a furnace no matter what.
Talk in the mess hall over three good square meals a day was all about their next challenge—instrument flying in the Link Trainer, the dark, hot box that simulated night flying in a closed-cabin aircraft. The Link Trainers had no visual aids, only instruments and a radio connection to an instructor. It was the first step toward solo night flying, and anticipation about it buzzed.
Heat simmered up from the ground on the first day of instrument class, a slippery mirage that rose above the airfield. Eva took her seat in the sweltering Link Trainer room, her classmates pulling notebooks out and settling down.
A hush gathered over the room when the instructor strode to the front of the class, turning to face them and flashing a smile. Harry was handsome; Harry was the best man Eva had ever met, but the man standing in front of the class right at this moment was the most beautiful man Eva had laid eyes on in her life.
“Welcome to instrument classes. My name is Dan Parker.” Instructor Dan leaned down to adjust his notes, his dark eyelashes fanning out over his cheeks.
Eva wasn’t sure whether taking a seat in the front row was going to aid her concentration or hinder it, but she sure couldn’t take her eyes off the instructor right now. Next to her, Rita sat back, crossed her legs, and let out a slow whistle under her breath.
“Instrument flying will be the most challenging flying you’ll do. Overall, you’ll get thirty-eight hours here at Sweetwater.” Dan Parker turned to get some papers from a nearby table, and half the class took the opportunity to swivel around and gasp.
Rita nudged Eva. “It seems I’m about to break a cardinal rule,” she whispered. “Let’s see how long it takes me to get Mr. Parker here to ask me out. Conversations can be oh so private when you have an instructor whispering in your ear over a radio in a Link Trainer. Dates can be made, and no one will know . . .”
“And you’ll be washed out for going on them, Rita,” Bea murmured right back.
“Oh, but I excel at not getting caught,” Rita murmured. “Other girls have dated instructors. I’ll just have to slip in by midnight. But I’m getting ahead of myself.”
Dan adjusted his notes. He leaned his tanned arms on the desk and addressed them all. It was so quiet that the sound of a pen scratching on paper would have stirred the air in the room. “I will be on the radio, talking to you and giving you instructions while you’re in the trainer today.”
“Swoon,” Rita said.
“I’ll give you a particular set of altitudes and distances to fly, along with simulated wind and weather conditions.”
He strode over to the little metal Link Trainer box, which was only the size of a cockpit for one, and he opened the lid. “You climb under the hood, and you fly.”
“Oh, yes you do, baby . . . ,” Rita murmured.
Helena raised her eyes to the tin roof.
“Inside, the sensation is of actual flight. I’ll be getting you to touch down under minimum visibility conditions.”
Dan talked a few minutes longer, and Eva took down detailed notes. This was a vital part of their training, and while Harry had instructed her as well as he could in instrument flying, she was well aware
that many of the other girls here had extensive experience flying at night—flight instructors Rita and Helena were two good examples. This was something on which Eva knew she had to work extra hard to pass.
Dan glanced at his folder. “Eva Scott, you’re up first.” He scanned the room.
Eva laid down her pen. This was not in her game plan. She had hoped—assumed—she would have the chance to talk to other girls about their experiences in the tiny trainer before she was assessed.
But Dan was waiting for her to climb into the blind trainer, and the class was watching her as well.
Dan held the lid open for her, and Eva took a deep breath and stepped inside. Once he’d closed the lid with a gentle thud, she forced herself to focus alone in the pitch dark, but instantly, the hot little box seemed to flare around her, the beads of sweat on her forehead feeling like they’d swelled to a million times their size. She jumped at the sound of Dan’s sultry voice through the communication device.
“Prepare for takeoff, Miss Scott.”
The instrument panel lit up, and Eva fumbled with the controls, somehow talking her way through takeoff with Dan, her hands shaking and wet. She struggled for air but still got the simulator moving, feeling the sweltering box moving with her.
Nausea swilled through her stomach. She shouldn’t have had scrambled eggs this morning, or coffee, or juice, because right now she was feeling them all again.
“Close the throttle, apply full rudder, and look out for rough weather ahead,” Dan said through the radio.
“Roger.”
It was as if the whole world had been reduced to the confined, hot box. It was enclosing around her; she needed, desperately, to glimpse light. She had never been claustrophobic, but it was all she could do to stop herself from forcing the door open and bursting out of this inferno.
Eva fought to control her breaths, heaving them in and out with punches from her diaphragm, but the instrument panel was a blur of strange, misted shapes.