Beyond the Horizon

by Ella Carey

  At 11:25, the yawning girls made their way to the elevator.

  “You know, if there wasn’t a war on, dancing and boys would be the most exciting things in our lives,” Helena said.

  “Oh my,” Rita said. “I think, Helena, you might be exactly right.”

  They all stood silent in the elevator while it took them back down.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  THE COMMITTEE: Several of the committee members served in the armed forces during the war and recognize the closeness of camaraderie during service, but wasn’t what you experienced in WASP not much different from sororities and clubs? It seems that all of this gained importance in your mind. If all you really want is a club reunion, then maybe you are wasting the committee’s time.

  EVA FORREST: No, sir. That is not the case. I am here because we are not recognized in the history of this country. Our contribution to the Allied victory in World War II is not recorded by historians writing official history books. Consequently, many Americans do not know the WASP existed.

  The late-autumn sun was setting low over the airfield when Dan instructed the class about their major long-distance instrument flights. Over the last few days, the wind had turned colder, and the occasional flurry of sideways rain was a reminder that the Texan winter was not far away.

  Eva’s muscles still tingled from the brisk calisthenics exercise routines they’d done that afternoon. She’d followed the complex routines mindlessly, familiar now with everything the fitness instructor asked them to do. It was the only time during the day that she could get away without full concentration. Ground school was rigorous, and she’d become used to the constant study and assessment routine, but she’d worked hard and done well. And as for flight classes, she was more than aware that tonight’s instrument flight in the dark was going to require utter focus. They were being graded on it, and one slipup could mean washing out.

  “I still hate losing my horizon, Evie,” Nina confessed in a whisper. “I’m in a panic, and I only hope I pass.”

  Dan paused for a moment to sketch diagrams on the blackboard.

  “Me too,” Eva said. “But at least the weather is cooler than it was when we first started night training exercises. I swear, those turbans—”

  “I’m going to burn mine when we are done. I’m planning the bonfire,” Rita said.

  “Save me a spot, girls. I’ll throw mine in with yours.” Nancy chuckled and went back to her notes.

  “Well, girls, we’ll have to rely on the burning oil wells on the way to Midland. Nancy, your stars are scant tonight,” Bea said.

  “They are,” Nancy murmured. “I’ll try and call them up for you, Bea.”

  “You all set your courses for tonight’s flights today during ground school.” Dan turned back to face them. “And you’ve had plenty of practice with forced landings. If you do need to carry out a forced landing during this, your first long-distance night flight, then you are to proceed. We’d rather have you do what Beatrice did during the quadrant exercises than have you push yourselves to stay up there, resulting in disaster.”

  Eva saw the way Rita smiled at Dan and the way his eyes warmed in acknowledgment of her in return. She was glad for them. They had managed to keep their burgeoning relationship private as far as the wider class group went, but the glow on Rita’s face was there for all of them to see.

  An hour later, Eva sat in the cockpit of the advanced trainer with Reg behind her. She’d done a thorough preflight check and settled into the cockpit, feeling content for now, despite the task at hand. The advanced trainer was a honey of a little plane to fly. She got the all clear by the control tower, checked the wind sock for strength and direction, swung the aircraft around, and lined up on the center.

  Lowering the flaps, she stood on the brakes for a moment and increased the power on the throttle, watching the needle on the tachometer climb. She applied maximum power quickly in order to get off the ground. Releasing the brakes, she hurtled down the runway, wincing at the thought that if any flying gravel flew up to chip the paintwork, Reg would make notes detailing every scratch in her report. But the wind had picked up, and there was nothing she or anyone could do about the chilled flurries throwing gravel up around the sides of the plane. The end of the runway approached, and she pulled back on the control column.

  The plane eased off the ground perfectly, but Eva didn’t allow herself any reprieve. She remained focused, watching the lights on the instrument panel that would be her only guide apart from burning oil wells and the odd lights that small towns and ranches threw up in the windy, dark night.

  She’d become used to the Texan winds in the last few weeks. The weather was volatile now. For a moment, Eva allowed herself a wistful pang at the thought that she’d be home again in just fourteen days. Home for Christmas, hopefully with her silver graduation wings pinned to her chest and an assignment to an air force base. Anticipation about assignments was starting to dominate the conversation among the girls in the class.

  Eva lowered the nose slightly, allowing the plane to pick up speed and rise into a steady climb.

  “Your takeoff was well executed.” Reg’s voice came through the communication device. “Now look out for the fires on the oil wells. They will set your course to Midland.”

  “Roger.”

  She settled into a pattern of direction from Reg and provided a response, action, and report. The first of the oil wells burned in the blackness below. Eva focused on maintaining control of the plane. It was increasingly difficult the farther west they traveled. The winds strengthened as the flight wore on.

  At last, they reached the twinkling lights of Midland, and Reg instructed her to turn the plane back toward Sweetwater. She was glad of his calm nature. With a pang, she thought of Harry, of the way he, too, was never temperamental or difficult in a plane.

  Another plane twinkled past them in the distance; otherwise, she and Reg were alone in the cloudy sky. Eva resisted the urge to wave at whichever other instructor and one of her classmates were sharing the night with them.

  She touched down at Avenger Field with a bit of a thump, but she taxied at perfect speed to the gate.

  “Well done,” Reg said once she’d taxied into the landing spot. “You’re doing well. You were calm and well prepared tonight. You’ve been a solid student, Eva.”

  “Thank you.” She held every finger crossed with the hope that all her classmates would have an equally straightforward flight.

  Two hours later, the mess hall buzzed with the chatter of returning trainees. Only one girl had failed. She’d taxied faster than was safe on landing, jammed on the brakes, and skidded in the dust, only just missing hitting the gate. She sat surrounded by her bay mates. Eva only hoped she would not be washed out.

  Helena finally swaggered in, wearing her zoot suit—still the only girl tall enough to come close to carrying off the thing with any dash.

  “That was better than expected. But my, am I glad it’s over.” Helena sat down.

  Eva cradled her hot coffee. “The wind’s picking up for the others still out there.”

  The wind rattled the roof of the hangar now. The tin roof groaned in turn. Eva knew she’d been fortunate to be one of the first in the class to go up. Nina was still out, along with Bea, Nancy, and Rita.

  Eva chatted with Helena about assignments, but she kept her eyes trained on the doorway, relief seeping through her whenever one of her bay mates came back.

  Reg tapped her shoulder late in the evening. Eva turned to him. Something dark stirred in her stomach at the sight of his face. It was the color of white cotton blowing in the fields.

  The wind outside swelled, its low wails and eerie whistles sounding like a pack of wolves baying on the lonely plains.

  “Eva, Helena, Nina, Beatrice, and Rita. Please come with me.” Reg’s face contorted into a grimace.

  Eva stood up with a jerk. Her chair flew backward, hitting the floor with a thud.

  They’d been laughing and singin
g “Zoot Suits and Parachutes” to keep their spirits up. But now, Bea put her cup of tea down on the table and stood up next to Eva.

  Reg stood almost as if to attention. The hangar seemed enormous, vacant. The sounds of their classmates’ chatter swelled in and out as if from far away.

  Something was wrong.

  Nina, Helena, and Rita quieted. They stood up with Eva and Bea, following Reg to the instructors’ offices. When they were all in his office with him, he closed the door.

  “Girls, I want you all to sit down.” Reg turned his back to them for a moment and rested a hand on the large wooden desk that was precisely organized with all his files and notes. He faced them. “Prepare yourselves.”

  Eva slid down into the last chair in front of his desk. Her heartbeats were as hard as gunshots against a steel door.

  “Dan and Nancy were forced to make a crash landing during their training exercise tonight.”

  Rita reached out, her hand fumbling for Eva’s. Eva took it, holding it in her own shaking fingers.

  “Dan sent a radio call to the tower. They were facing multiple problems with their trainer. He said that the airplane was shutting down and their altitude was dropping dramatically. They came down nose first.” Reg spoke low and evenly. “I’m sorry. There was nothing anyone could do.”

  Before Eva could catch her, Rita fell off her chair in a heap onto the floor.

  The other girls tore to her side. Eva cradled Rita’s head in her arms. Nancy, gone? Dan? She hurled her gaze back up at Reg. Is that what he’d said? Desperate for him to say they’d survived, she scanned his face.

  But his jaw only tightened, and the way he looked at Rita . . . Eva thought, He knows.

  He knew about Rita and Dan.

  And yet, he had not washed her out.

  “We have informed Jacqueline Cochran of WASP trainee Nancy Ward’s death. Mrs. Cochran will provide the funds to get Nancy back to her folks and will organize to transport the body home. There is nothing else to be done. I’m so very sorry.”

  Rita lay, still unconscious, in Eva’s arms.

  “And Helena, Eva, Nina, Beatrice . . . Rita?” Reg cleared his throat. “We will be sending you all back out flying. Tonight. We’ve checked the weather, and the worst of the wind has passed us now. It will be smooth flying, but it’s important you all get straight up again.”

  The girls stared at him in silence.

  After a few horrible seconds, Bea nodded, and her voice shook when she spoke. “Of course, Instructor. We don’t want any of us to get spooked up there. The best thing is to get right back up in the air.”

  “We have no choice but to push on during the theater of war. Take your time, and when you’re ready, please report to the flight line.” Reg left them alone with their grief.

  That night, the bay was eerie and quiet. There were no usual soft sounds of the girls’ breathing to send Eva off to sleep. Only the odd muffled sob punctuated the darkness. Outside, the night was still and uncanny. Eva hugged her gray blanket around her body and stared into the dark.

  The worst in the room was Rita. She lay atop her cot, still wearing her zoot suit, her body curled into a ball. They’d only been made to take a quick circle over Avenger Field. Eva had forced herself to focus, after being sick in the bathroom before going up.

  Bea’s crying filtered into the bay, next to Nancy’s empty bed. Eva slid off her cot and shuffled across the room in her socks. She stopped for a moment at Rita’s bed, but her friend did not move when she reached out and stroked a tendril of blond hair that had fallen across her cheek.

  As quietly as she could, she moved across to Bea. Bea leaned up on an elbow, staring at the bed Nancy had made up that morning with the rest of them, tucking in corners, lining up sheets. Even in the cover of darkness, Eva could see the tears shimmering down Bea’s cheeks. Silently, Bea stared up at Eva and then moved over a little in her small cot. Eva slid in next to her, and in the stillness, she leaned her head against the other girl’s while silently they both wept.

  The next morning, Eva woke still next to Bea. She opened an eye to see Helena, Nina, and Rita huddled on Rita’s bed. Rita was half propped up between Nina and Helena, sobbing now. Helena held Rita, whose whole body shook.

  Outside, rain lashed the window. Bea went to pull up the blind. White sleet pelted at the glass. Eva hovered on Bea’s empty bed.

  “Come here, Eva, Bea.” Helena patted Rita’s bed.

  Like a shot, they dived to Rita’s bed, all of them huddled in their nightgowns, children who had been sent out to face something they could not begin to understand.

  “She loved flying.” Nina tucked her head into Eva’s shoulder. “She died night flying. The stars were out.”

  “I’m sorry, girls.” Rita let out a huge sob. “He was going to take me home after graduation in November.”

  “You’ll come with us.” Nina sounded resolute. “With me and Evie. Come to Burbank. We’ll look after you.”

  Eva reached out and laid her hand on Nina’s arm. The ruthless devastation of war had not come so close to her before. If this was the reality of it, Eva could only dream of a time and place in which it would never, ever come back again.

  Nancy’s and Dan’s deaths were a distinct, somber rite of passage. After the girls crossed the turning point of grief, uncertainty about being separated after graduation increased throughout the class. The tension of where they’d all end up almost overrode their excitement over getting their silver wings and meeting Jacqueline Cochran and Henry Arnold. Graduation would be the end of an era, and who knew where they’d all be assigned.

  Rita carried out the last of the training exercises as if she were an automaton. She forced herself to cope by shutting herself off in some place where no one else could get through. Outwardly, she was present, and she flew with an amazing determination and focus. Eva was only glad that Nina had invited their friend back to Burbank after graduation.

  Eva found herself murmuring prayers for Nancy’s memory and also, as she glanced at Rita’s exhausted face, for Harry. Because if he were to fall out of the sky, she had no idea how she would cope.

  Now, with a snowstorm brewing outside and flight class cancelled for the afternoon, Eva leaned forward over the long table in the mess hall and read through Harry’s latest letter to her.

  Dearest Eva,

  I expect you are becoming an expert at the thing we both love to do. I can’t wait to hear all about it during vacation! I have some great news for you. After the last letter and the last round of work we had to do, I’ve finished my training and have been assigned to a squadron. I can’t tell you where I’ll be stationed, but I can say that my squadron is one of the more experienced units in the US Navy.

  I’m still having a grand time, and getting to see a lot of the countryside from you know where! That’s the thing that’s keeping me going, that and knowing I’ll see everyone real soon.

  Thank you for your letters. You know they say that news from home and friends is what keeps our men going out on the front. Even snippets that pass by the censors can mean a great deal to us, so thank you for writing so faithfully.

  Take care, kiddo. Must dash,

  Harry

  Eva laid the letter down. Nina was next to her, reading over her shoulder, her freckled face frowning in concentration, a mug of hot chocolate cupped between her cold, red hands.

  “Oh dear goodness, I’m sure from what I’m reading that he’s been assigned, Evie.”

  Eva couldn’t find the words. Ever since Nancy’s death, it was as if any naivete she’d felt beforehand about what they were all doing had been washed away.

  “You okay?” Nina asked.

  “I’m doing fine.”

  Nina touched her shoulder.

  Eva sighed. “Thing is, I’m dreadful concerned about the ongoing reports in the newspapers here about the bugs in the bombers he’ll be flying. I’m deathly worried. I just don’t know if I can bear it . . .” She looked down. “The odds of him
surviving seem so slim.”

  “He’s a wonderful pilot,” Nina said.

  “Problem with being an aircraft mechanic,” Eva said, “is that we know too much about those planes. Now I understand how my dad feels.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Four Curtiss bombers were lost in midair collisions just recently, one lost into the water on launch, another straight in during bombing practice.”

  “He was one of the best aircraft mechanics Lockheed had, Evie. If anyone understands defects in an airplane—”

  “Harry does,” Eva said. “But I’ve read more stories of tailwheels falling off on landing and seven aircraft lost by one squadron alone. Why are they still pushing ahead with the Curtiss rather than reverting to the Douglas SBD?”

  “It’s not for us, nor for Harry, to decide, Evie.”

  Eva shook her head. “I know he only views me as a little sister, but I don’t think Lucille knows or realizes one jot about the risk he’ll take.”

  “When he sees you returned home, you’ll be a graduated WASP.” Nina’s tone was soothing.

  After Dan’s and Nancy’s deaths and all the brooding and sleepless nights, Eva knew that what she felt for Harry was not just a crush; it was a deep understanding. But most of all, it was turning into a slow-burning love.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  THE COMMITTEE: The committee acknowledges that there were bonds forged between you, but this was in the style of flying Girl Scouts. It was not in any way military in the proper sense. If you are granted full military benefits, we will have every organization coming forward, including the Girl Scout volunteers who were on the ground. Do any of these other so-called friends you made in the WASP really view the experience as military, looking back? And if so, what possible justification do they have?

  EVA FORREST: I lost contact with them all. I have written to them, but I haven’t heard back. I had no choice but to move on.