A Pledge of Silence

by Flora J. Solomon

  Myra handed her a pile of file folders. “This is the background reading on a new project. Sometime this year, we’re going to become a blood-collection center, and our workload will double. I want you to become the expert . . . the go-to person. There’s a weeklong seminar in Lansing next month I’d like you to attend. You need to fill out this paperwork right away and send it in.” She handed Margie a sheaf of papers. “Tomorrow night our volunteers are assembling medical supply kits that we distribute overseas. I’d like you to stay and meet them. The coordinator of that project is pregnant, so when she leaves, I’ll turn it over to you. Get yourself settled in. You’ll find office supplies in the closet.” She pointed to a closet door. “I’ll be up front if you have any questions.”

  Margie felt out of breath just listening to Myra talk. A go-to expert? She had administered blood in the hospital, but she had no knowledge of blood usage beyond that. She found office supplies in the closet, arranged her desk to suit herself, and then opened the file folders and started reading about the chemistry of blood storage.

  Mama was tickled to help Margie plan her June wedding. Evelyn had agreed to be her maid of honor. “How’s Evelyn doing at Annapolis?” Mama asked.

  “She’s surrounded by midshipmen, so she couldn’t be happier, Mama. She says the corpsmen assigned to the wards do most of the medical work under the nurses’ supervision. Some of the rules are screwy, though, like the curtains at the windows have to hang just right, and casters on the beds must line up in the same direction.”

  “There must be a reason.”

  Margie couldn’t think of one.

  She had asked two of her girlhood friends to be bridesmaids, and a cousin’s daughter to be the flower girl. She designed her wedding dress and ordered the fabric from Mitchell’s Department Store.

  In December, Abe graduated as an officially commissioned pilot and second lieutenant in the US Army Air Corps. Excited he was coming home on leave, Margie styled her hair into an updo—thinking it made her look more sophisticated—polished her nails, and pressed her best dress. When he bounded off the train, she flew into his arms. After they kissed, she touched the flight wings pinned on his uniform. “Welcome home . . . sir.”

  He laughed again and twirled her around. “What did you do with your hair?”

  “It’s a new style. Do you like it?”

  “You’d be beautiful bald.”

  “So you don’t like it?”

  “You’re beautiful. What more can I say? Are you ready for some loving?” he whispered in her ear, and she leaned into him in response.

  It was joyous having him home, and Margie proudly showed off her handsome pilot, taking him to Christmas parties and family celebrations. They made love whenever they could sneak away and sent joint Christmas cards signed, With love and good cheer, Margie and Abe.

  She showed him the color palette of their wedding and the just-completed flower girl’s dress, but not her half-made wedding gown. At Mitchell’s, they selected a china pattern with light-blue flowers and flatware embellished with a small floret. He needed one more usher, and he contacted his friend Chuck to see if he was available.

  They met with Reverend Markel at the Little River Methodist Church to discuss their vows. After a prayer and a blessing, they felt their wedding plans complete.

  Two weeks after Christmas, Abe left for Muroc on the 5:00 a.m. train.

  Margie was bereft. Her only consolation: it would be their last parting.

  The war continued to escalate in Europe. In Germany, massive coordinated attacks threatened Jews, and thousands had been transported out of the country in boxcars, while thousands of others had been rounded up and sent to concentration camps. Britain and France declared war on Germany, and Germany invaded Poland, Norway, and Denmark. The United States remained neutral, though at the Red Cross, Margie worked overtime to keep up with demand for blood products, medicine, and bandages being sent to England and France.

  In April a letter arrived from Evelyn. The navy was increasing the number of troops in the Far East, and she’d been transferred to Cañacao Naval Hospital at Cavite, a naval base near Manila in the Philippines. Though she was thrilled with the assignment, she was sad she wouldn’t be able to be Margie’s maid of honor. Margie was devastated by the news. She wanted her best friend to be in her wedding. She thought about who she could get to take Evelyn’s place, but no one seemed right.

  Three weeks later a letter from Abe arrived, and his first words caused her to hold her breath.

  May 17, 1940

  My Dearest Margie,

  The blots on the paper are my tears. It hurts me to write you this news. I’ve just received orders that all leaves have been canceled, with no exceptions. Something is going on, but nobody will tell us what. My darling, I won’t be home for our June wedding. How will I ever make this up to you? I’ve never been so sad. Do I even dare ask you to wait awhile longer?

  How very much I love you,

  Abe

  She lay curled on her bed, her pillow wet with tears. Dreams of her life with Abe seemed to be slipping away. His letter crumpled in her hand as she read it again: I’ve never been so sad.

  “Me neither, my love,” she whispered. Her throat tightened as a fresh round of tears threatened.

  Her mother came in carrying a tray. “Honey, you’ve got to eat. I made you some chocolate pudding, your favorite. Sit up and eat it for me, won’t you please?”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  “You’ve got to try. You’ll feel better with a little something in your stomach. Please sit up.”

  She rose up into a slump and sighed deeply.

  “I know you’re disappointed, but it’s just a postponement. As soon as Abe comes home, you two will get married. You’ll have a long life together.”

  “He’s a fighter pilot, Mama; what are his chances of coming home? I’m afraid for him.”

  “You’re being negative. We’re not at war. He’ll be safe. Come, now. Eat the pudding. You’ll feel better.”

  Margie did as she was told while thinking about canceling the church, food, and flowers and contacting the guests. She would store away her wedding dress, veil, and the tiara she had splurged on. That evening, still sad but calmer, she answered Abe’s letter.

  May 21, 1940

  My Dearest Darling,

  Your letter brought bad news, but I beg of you not to feel so sad. Fate might get in the way of our plans, but never our love for each other. The army can’t keep us apart forever, and when you return home, I’ll be here for you. In the meantime, I’ll think of you every time I look at the sky.

  Love and many kisses,

  Your Margie

  Abe was sent to Newfoundland to fly reconnaissance over the North Atlantic. For Margie, summer dragged on, long, hot, and lonesome. Now, with winter winds rattling the windows, she huddled around the radio with her family to listen to President Roosevelt’s Fireside Chat. Dad solemnly smoked his pipe, Mama put her knitting down, and Frank sat forward to concentrate on every word the president said.

  My Fellow Americans:

  It is with profound consciousness of my responsibilities to my countrymen and to my country’s cause, I have tonight issued a proclamation that an unlimited national emergency exists and requires the strengthening of our defense to the extreme limit of our national power and authority. The nation will expect all individuals and all groups to play their full parts, without stint, and without selfishness, and without doubt that our democracy will triumphantly survive . . .

  Dad’s voice broke after listening to the report. “Well, it looks like we’re gearing up to get in the thick of it.”

  Mama looked thoughtfully at her two children, both young adults now and of military age. She wiped tears from her eyes.

  That night Frank knocked on Margie’s bedroom door. “You asleep?”

  She put her letter aside. “No. Come on in.”

  Frank glanced at the letter. “How’s Abe?”

 
; “Cold. He’s complaining a lot.”

  “Has he spotted any Germans?”

  “He wouldn’t tell me. It’s all pretty hush-hush.”

  “Margie, I, um . . .”

  Something in his voice made her take notice. Lanky and green-eyed, he resembled Mama’s brother, Uncle Leo. Mama always said he was cocky like Leo too. And probably a heartbreaker, Margie thought. The girls had been vying for his attention for a while. He was a freshman in college already.

  “I’m thinking about joining the navy. I talked to a recruiter a couple days ago.”

  Margie’s brow furrowed. “Have you told Mama and Daddy? They’ll have to give their consent.”

  “Not yet. I thought if you were there with me . . .”

  “What about college?”

  “It’s their dream, not mine. I don’t want to sit in a classroom. I want to get involved. I want to see more of the world. Some of my friends already are. Eugene joined the army and is training in Illinois, and Clyde’s on a ship sailing around the Cape.”

  “Why the navy? You’ve never even been on a boat.”

  “Men are needed. You’ve seen the recruiting posters.”

  She had. FIGHTING MEN NEEDED. Keep the world safe for democracy.

  She said, “It’ll break Mama’s heart.”

  “I know. Will you help me?”

  Margie teetered between understanding his desire to escape a humdrum existence and feeling protective of the brother who wasn’t yet out of his teens. “It could be dangerous. Is there anything I can say to stop you?”

  “No. I can take care of myself. I’ve made up my mind.”

  She saw his determined look and heard fervor in his voice. When did this kid grow up? “All right then.”

  But it wasn’t meant to be. The navy doctor detected a heart murmur, and Frank’s desire to see more of the world collapsed on itself when he received a letter of rejection.

  Dad often read the newspaper aloud to anyone within listening distance. “It says here Roosevelt has approved purchases of hundreds of military aircraft and warships.” He put the paper down. “I heard the Ford plant is going on three shifts. They have a multimillion-dollar contract from the government to build tanks.”

  Margie said, “Myra’s daughter, Junie, got a job there. She’s an inspector on the line.”

  Mama said, “In the factory? Since when do they hire women?”

  “Since the men are being drafted; someone has to do the work. They’re hiring anyone who can pass the Civil Service exam. The pay’s good too. Junie’s making twice as much as she did working as a waitress.”

  Mama’s hand went to her chest. “This awful war—our young women working in factories. Our young men being drafted. It’s a nightmare. It’s too horrible to even think about it.”

  Mama’s worst nightmare became a reality in January 1941, with Margie’s call to active duty. As a second lieutenant in the Army Nursing Reserve, she received orders to report to Walter Reed Army Hospital in Washington, DC.

  Mama said, “I feel so responsible.” She was sitting on the edge of the bed watching Margie pack her suitcase. Her voice sounded sad. “I had no idea that working for the Red Cross would lead to this.”

  Margie saw the concerned look on her mother’s face. “You’re not responsible. Working at the Red Cross has nothing to do with it. I enrolled in the Nursing Reserve when I was still in school. Most of the class did, along with thousands of other nurses. I knew there was a chance the Reserves would be mobilized. I’m going to Washington. I’m excited about it. As long as my wedding has been postponed, I might as well see more of the world.”

  “The world’s a dangerous place right now.”

  “I’ll be all right. I won’t be in any danger.”

  “That’s what I keep telling myself, and you’re a capable girl.” She folded the nightgowns lying on the bed and put them into the suitcase. “The army could send you anywhere.”

  “I’ll do what needs to be done, just like you taught me.” She reached for her mother’s hand. “Remember when I was naughty and you made me explain how I would improve my behavior? I hated doing that, you know.”

  They laughed together.

  “You were a bit of a pistol, my dear.”

  “You taught me to be truthful and think critically about myself. You’re a wonderful mother, and I love you. I don’t want you to worry. When I come back, Abe and I will have bunches of grandbabies for you to spoil.”

  Margie didn’t blame her mother for being worried. She was apprehensive herself of all the unknowns ahead. Her enthusiasm far outweighed her trepidation, however, and she pushed aside any misgivings. At the train depot, with hugs and kisses and a last wave good-bye, she jauntily stepped onto the train and into a new life.

  CHAPTER 6

  Washington, DC / Manila, January–June 1941

  Margie crossed the threshold into a bigger world the moment she stepped through the doors of Walter Reed Hospital in Washington, DC. The immense 2,500-bed facility dwarfed her hometown hospital and stood five times larger than Grand Arbor. She was to train as a nurse-anesthetist.

  In the nurses’ residence, she met her roommate, Helen Doyle, a round-faced obstetrical nurse who wore her hair in thick braids coiled around her head. With an American father and an English mother, Helen grew up traveling between the two countries, never sure which one to call home.

  “It’s a leap, isn’t it, from obstetrics to anesthesiology?” Margie asked.

  “A bit, but I heard anesthetists are in short supply, and obstetrics would be somewhat unnecessary in a field hospital, don’t you think?”

  A field hospital with tents and latrines? The possibility had never crossed Margie’s mind. “I’m not the field-hospital type. I like a clean bed.”

  “Not me. I want to be where the action is. I’m looking to get into the middle of it and help our boys.” Helen turned up the radio to hear what was happening in England. “It’s terrible, the bombing. London’s a shambles. I’m afraid for my mum and dad. They live right in the city.”

  A few days before Margie finished her training at Walter Reed, a letter arrived from Abe. He had been flying reconnaissance missions over the frigid North Atlantic for almost a year. He often complained about the subzero weather and the boredom of the routine. She pushed aside her textbooks and tore open the envelope.

  Langley Field, Virginia

  May 4, 1941

  Dear Margie,

  Haven’t written in a while. The mind-numbing boredom of the North Atlantic doesn’t lend itself to chatty letters. But I’m at Langley Field in Virginia for now. Good to be out of the bitter cold. The army brought me back as an operations officer for the Twenty-Second Pursuit Squadron. They’re developing equipment to detect submarines, a.k.a. the German U-boats, those devils that harass our supply convoys. My guys will be testing the equipment for them. I hope it takes a good long time. I’m not in any hurry to return to the deep freeze.

  I’ve written for a specific reason, Margie. I hope it doesn’t hurt you too badly. I want to break off our engagement—just for now. I’ve met a woman here, and I want to enjoy her company without feeling guilty. So many miles have separated you and me for so long a time. You have to be as lonesome as I am.

  Betty is a pilot. I think you’d like her. She’s pretty, like you, only she has blond hair. We talk a lot and goof around—like you and I have always done, and I miss that so much. Please don’t be mad or sad. I don’t want to lose touch with you. We have so many good memories, and I hope we can still have a future together. I’ll keep writing. Please write back, okay? When we get home, we can pick up again. Know that you will always be the love of my life.

  Truly yours,

  Abe

  Margie sat for a long while, holding the letter in her shaking hand. So many miles separated them? How far was Virginia from Washington—walking distance? Betty was a pilot? Margie would like her? Most certainly not!

  She ripped the engagement ring off her finger
and tossed it in the drawer where she kept his letters. Impulsively, she threw the whole stack of them into the trash can. Creep! The love of his life? While he’s chasing around? How could he? Changing her mind, she retrieved the letters. She cried tears of hurt and anger. An empty spot opened in the place Abe always occupied.

  Helen came into the room. “Are you okay, Margie?”

  “No,” she sniffed. “I just got a Dear Jane letter. Seems Abe’s found a blond tart.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  “How could he, Helen? We’ve been together since we were sixteen.” She blew her nose and blotted her tears. “We had all these plans, and he just tosses them away like”—she swirled her arm in the air—“like they mean nothing to him.” She hiccupped a sob. “Like I mean nothing to him. I never dreamed he’d do that.”

  “I’m sorry, Margie. Maybe you can still get back together.”

  “Don’t count on it,” she said, and the flood of tears started again with no indication they would stop anytime soon.

  With the breakup heavy on her heart, Margie found it difficult to study for her final tests. She muddled through the days dejected and weepy, and broke into sobs when certain love songs played on the radio. When exams ended, Helen tried to persuade her to celebrate with their classmates, barhopping DC’s hot spots. Margie declined and spent the night writing Abe a letter, but all six drafts ended up in the trash can.

  The next morning, the chief nurse called the bleary-eyed graduates together. She wished them well and told them their orders were being processed. Because their transportation was on an “as available” basis, they must be ready to leave DC at a moment’s notice.

  “Do you know where we’re being sent?” Helen asked.

  “No. For security, that’s kept confidential. Finish any business you have here. I suggest you keep your bags packed.”

  Their orders arrived soon after, and Margie and Helen hastily left Walter Reed for the DC train station. It teemed with khaki-clad men carrying oversized duffels and walking briskly in all directions. The girls grabbed coffee and a muffin from a vendor and hurried to Gate 6, where a sleek Transcontinental Limited waited. After walking through the dining car, a lounge, and then an endless number of Pullmans, Helen said, “Holy Toledo! We must be in for a long ride.”