When Ma arrived with a clean face and wearing fresh clothes, they all marched back into the kitchen. Charlotte introduced everybody, then started to explain what had happened. People interrupted to tell their parts, and Ma had a bunch of questions. By the time Joseph had told about his mother dying, Charlotte knew Ma was finished being mad. Her eyes had filled up.
“You poor children,” Ma said. “Whatever are you going to do?”
Tommy stuck out his chin again. “We ain’t going to no orphanage. We’ll run off to California first.”
Tommy made Charlotte want to smile. He and Robbie were so much alike.
“Hush, Tommy,” Joseph said. “I’ve been trying to figure that out, ma’am. I ain’t afraid of work. And Tommy, he’s all set to help at the grocery store, stacking food on the shelves this summer. That and what I can pick up doing odd jobs—”
“Odd jobs?” Ma asked. “I don’t understand. There are jobs going begging all up and down the river. Why not get a real job with good pay?”
You had to give it to Ma, Charlotte thought. Her temper might get steamed up, but she could untangle troubles like nobody else.
Joseph shook his head. “I would if I could. But I turned eighteen back in the winter, when Ma was real sick. I had to kinda hide out, or Uncle Sam would come after me.”
“The draft board.” Ma’s eyes narrowed. “Did you register?”
Joseph stared down at his feet. “No, ma’am. I know this is going to sound like I’m a slacker. And I know you’ve got a boy over there. Saw the blue star in your window. I’d go and do my bit if I could. Shoot, I wanted to enlist. But with Ma sick and the little ones …”
“Oh, what a mess.” Ma ran her hand through her dark hair. “If you get a job, the draft board finds you. But if you don’t work, how will you take care of your family?”
This was getting worse by the minute. What would Charlotte do in such a terrible situation? Or Jim, for that matter? What could anybody do?
“Yes, ma’am. That’s why I took … stole the metal. There’s a junk man down in Hazelwood. He don’t ask too many questions. Pays in cash. I was planning to take the scrap down to him in my boat.”
“M-m-mister. B-b-butler,” Wagon Willie said. Everyone turned to look at him. It was the first he’d spoken since Ma had come home.
“Pardon me, Mr. Willis? What did you say?” Ma looked at him kindly.
“D-d-draft board.”
Charlotte frowned. What was he talking about?
Ma shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
Mr. Willis took a deep breath. “H-h-hardship.”
“Do you mean Mr. David Butler?” Ma’s head snapped up and her eyes went wide. “He’s head of the draft board, isn’t he? Oh, Mr. Willis.” Ma stood and reached out to shake Mr. Willis’s hand. “I think you may have saved this poor boy.”
“What?” “Who?” “How?” The table came alive with questions. Charlotte didn’t know all the answers yet, but she recognized the look on Ma’s face. It was the one she got when she was about to turn the whole house upside down for spring cleaning, and anybody who got in her way had better look out.
“Mrs. Campbell?” Joseph looked at her with serious brown eyes.
“What I think Mr. Willis is trying to tell us is this,” Ma said. “We need to speak to Mr. Butler. The draft board has choices in situations like this one. There’s a classification—extreme hardship, I believe it’s called. Is that what you meant, Mr. Willis?”
The man nodded and smiled at Ma. “B-butler. I-I cut his g-grass.”
She returned his smile. “You know Mr. Butler? Would you be willing to go with me and see Mr. Butler on this boy’s behalf?”
Mr. Willis nodded again.
“But what would you say?” Joseph asked. “I ain’t the kids’ pa, I’m just their brother.”
Charlotte shook her head. “You’re the only pa they’ve got. And the Army isn’t drafting fathers for the war. Won’t that count for something?”
“Indeed it will,” Ma said. “That’s what I meant when I said it was a hardship case.”
“And if they don’t draft you, you can get a real job.” Charlotte smiled. This could work. She went on. “If you had a real job, you’d make money, and they wouldn’t have to send your brother and sister to an orphanage.”
“But, Charlie, what about the metal?” Robbie said.
“We won’t tell who took the metal. We’ll just say we found it. Then we can haul it to the scrap yard,” Charlotte said. “The whole town doesn’t need to know the rest. We found it, so we can decide. But I would like to tell Mrs. Alexander and the principal. And Betsy.”
She looked around the table. Robbie was nodding. So were Ma and Mr. Willis. Joseph and his brother Tommy had soft looks on their faces, like maybe they had a chance.
Paul was the only one not smiling. “I’m still worried. What if the draft board is strict? What if they want to punish Joseph for not registering right away? If he goes to the draft board without enough strong arguments, they might say no.”
“But it is a hardship case,” Ma said. “Surely the draft board will see that.”
Charlotte sighed. “If he already had a job and a house, he’d look like more of a real pa.”
“You don’t ask for much, do you, Charlotte,” Paul said.
“I don’t know. Charlotte’s right.” Joseph sounded worried. “If I don’t go in strong to the draft board, I’d better not go in at all.”
Charlotte jumped up. “If he could get a war job, the draft board would excuse him from the Army, wouldn’t they? What’s that called, Ma?”
“It’s called a deferment. Men get them for working at defense jobs in vital industries. Of course—I could recommend you at the mill! We’re shorthanded. We had a breakdown on the line tonight, and they’ve had to shut down production until it gets fixed. With not enough people, maintenance is tough. And they’re building a new furnace, so they’re looking for strong young men. They’d take you on in a minute.”
Charlotte felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders. If the draft board treated Joseph like a father to his brother and sister, and he had a war job … She smiled at him, but he’d turned pale.
“In the mill?” He took a deep breath. “Sure, I’ll give it a try …” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed a couple of times.
“What?” Charlotte asked. “What’s the matter?”
Joseph looked ashamed. “I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever it takes. But I’m a river rat. They got a concrete fence around the mill and barbed wire, like a prison. And all that fire—when I look at the mill at night, I think that’s what the priest must be talking about when he warns about the fires of hell.” Joseph shuddered.
Charlotte understood exactly how he felt. She felt like that every time Pa made her help on the boat. The boat! “You’re a river rat. How about working on a tug? Pa’s shorthanded. And it’s defense work.”
“Would he hire me?”
“I’m sure he would,” Ma said.
Charlotte knew from the look on Ma’s face that if Pa had his doubts, Ma would convince him. But Pa wouldn’t need much convincing. Hadn’t he said they all needed to hold on to each other to get through the hard times? If this wasn’t a hard time, what was?
Even Paul was beginning to look happier. “Now all we have to do is find him a place to live. Shoot, it’s too late …” He paused. “See, my ma rents our top floor to some girls who came up from West Virginia to work in the mill. That’s why we couldn’t go there tonight—I’m not supposed to make a racket or bother them. If only Ma could kick them out. But she can’t.”
“Maybe the job will be enough for the draft board,” Joseph said. “If you mean it.”
“Of course we do,” Ma said. “If there were just a place for you to stay, and someone to care for the children while you’re working. But so many women are working full shifts in the factories and mills …”
“I know!” Robbie said. He pounded the table and grinned.
“I got it. It’s perfect. You can stay with Mrs. Dubner.”
Charlotte’s mouth fell open. “Robbie, you’re nuts! Mrs. Dubner’s crazy. And all those cats.”
“Only three,” he said.
“You mean three hundred,” she laughed.
Robbie sighed. “She feeds all the strays, but only three live there. Two gray ones and a stripey kitten. And she’s not crazy, Charlie. She’s just lonely.”
Ma turned to him, a serious look on her face. “What do you mean, Robbie?”
He shrugged. “Well, with her boys gone, she hasn’t had anybody. And she’s real nice. Bakes good ginger cookies.”
Charlotte could not believe her brother had been spending time with old Mrs. Dubner. Was he turning crazy too?
Ma looked stern. “Robert Michael Campbell, how do you know all this?”
“Aw, Ma, I didn’t have anything to do after I hurt my hand—you wouldn’t let me collect scrap. So I went to see her. She gave me cookies and let me pet her cats. She’s got lots of room with just her living there.”
“Wait a minute,” Charlotte interrupted, as the rest of Robbie’s words finally hit her. “What boys? Does she really have kids?”
“Not anymore.” Robbie shook his head and sighed again. “They both died. Long time ago. They got gassed in what she calls the Great War. But she’s got beds and stuff. It’s lots better than a shack. And I bet if you gave her some money, she’d cook for you too.”
Ma looked around the table. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but it sounds to me like things may work out.” Ma checked her watch. “It’s awfully late. I’d say we have plenty to keep us busy tomorrow. Joseph, will you and your family stay here tonight? We’ve got a room free on the third floor.”
“Yes, ma’am. And thank you. Thank you all. Getting caught might have been the best thing that’s happened to us in a while.” With that he stood and picked up Tessa to carry her upstairs.
Ma shook hands with Mr. Willis. “Thank you so much. Shall we meet with the principal tomorrow and then arrange things with Mr. Butler?”
Mr. Willis nodded and smiled. Paul stepped toward the door and grinned at Charlotte. He stuck out his hand. “Shake?”
“Shake. We did a great job. Wait till we tell Betsy tomorrow. Wait till she finds out all she missed.”
He waved and followed Mr. Willis back out into the rainy night.
Ma turned to Charlotte. “Now, young lady, will you tell me why I found two sets of soggy clothes in the bathtub? And why your hair looks like a rat’s nest? You seem to have left out that part.”
In all the excitement, Charlotte had actually forgotten. “I … Robbie … We … Well, he fell in the river, and I went in after him.”
“You? You went in the water?”
“I had to, Ma. Paul was steering the boat. I guess I’m part river rat too.”
Ma pulled Charlotte into her arms and held her tight. “I should scold you for being out there in the first place, but somehow, I haven’t the heart. That was a brave thing to do, sweetheart. Your pa and I—I can’t tell you … With Jim gone, if you or Robbie—”
“It’s okay, Ma. Really. Robbie and I are swell. And there’s something else.” Charlotte took Ma’s hand and tugged her toward the front window. She reached up and touched the points of Jim’s star. “Jim’s going to come home safe. I just know he is.”
“Because?”
“Because he’s as bad as Robbie. Worse maybe.”
“What are you talking about, Charlotte?”
“Jim’s nosy. He can’t stand it if somebody knows something that he doesn’t.” Charlotte’s fingers itched for paper and a pencil. “I’ve got a plan, Ma. I’ll write a letter and tell him a little about tonight. But I’ll leave out all the good parts. I’ll pretend it’s because of the censors. But then Jim will have to come home so he can find out what we’ve been up to. I’m sure of it.”
“Ah, Charlotte,” Ma said. She hugged her again. “What will you cook up next, girl?”
“Please, Ma, don’t!” Robbie raced in. “Don’t let her cook any more potatoes. She always burns them.” He made a face.
“Oh you, buster. You’ll eat what I cook and you’ll like it.” Charlotte messed up his damp hair with both her hands.
Brothers, she thought. Brothers.
1942
GOING BACK IN TIME
LOOKING BACK: 1942
In the spring of 1942, the world was at war. German troops had taken over nearly all of Europe, and Japan had conquered most of Asia. But wartime was still new to Americans. The United States had entered the war only a few months earlier. Many families, like Charlotte’s, had sent sons or brothers to fight.
On April 28, 1942, the day Charlotte’s story opens, President Franklin D. Roosevelt spoke to the nation in one of his frequent radio talks, called “fireside chats.” He admitted the war was going badly for the United States, and he asked ordinary Americans at home to sacrifice for victory, just as their fighting men were doing overseas. Like Charlotte, adults and children everywhere quickly found new ways to pitch in and help their country win the war.
The president’s message had special meaning in steel-producing towns. To win the war, America needed ships and weapons—which required steel, and lots of it. During the war, western Pennsylvania river towns blazed night and day. Smoke and soot from tall chimneys filled the skies, slag heaps smoldered, tugs and barges clogged the rivers. Mills like the Edgar Thomson added new furnaces so they could pour endless tons of steel. In fact, the Pittsburgh area, including Braddock, poured nearly 30 percent of all the steel used by America and her allies during World War II. This amazing effort earned the area a new name—Victory Valley.
All over the country, schools, scout troops, and church groups held scrap drives, collecting metal to be recycled. They gathered items made of aluminum, tin, copper, iron, and steel, sorted them, and sent them to factories to be melted down. Eventually, so much metal was turned into war supplies that there wasn’t even enough to make diaper pins! People also collected and recycled paper, rubber, and even lard, which was used in making artillery shells and grenades.
Americans pitched in to be sure their soldiers and allies also got the tons of food, clothing, and other supplies they needed. Families planted backyard “Victory gardens” so more farm products could go to soldiers. Schools in farm areas closed in spring and fall so students could help plant and harvest crops. And everyone saved money to buy war bonds and stamps to help the government pay for all the needed supplies.
The United States shipped so many goods overseas that serious shortages occurred at home. Sugar, fruit, meat, rubber, metal, paper, clothing, leather, and gasoline all grew scarce. The government began rationing, or limiting, how much of these products each family could buy. Imagine having to make one pair of shoes last a whole year, or saving sugar coupons for weeks to bake holiday cookies!
With so many men overseas, workers were in short supply, too. Women like Charlotte’s mother, who had worked at home caring for their families, took factory jobs. They traded dresses for overalls and made steel, ships, bombs, bullets, and thousands of airplanes. Their work was vital to America’s war effort. And 350,000 women joined the military, handling noncombat jobs such as nursing, office work, packing parachutes, and testing new airplanes, so that men could fight.
As Americans at home did their part for the war, a sense of unity and shared purpose took hold across the country. People grew strong and determined. But they were often afraid, too. Air-raid drills frightened many children. As sirens blared, people in homes and schools darkened their windows and hid in basements, practicing what to do if warplanes attacked. Children in industrial areas knew that their towns were likely bombing targets if German warplanes crossed the Atlantic.
Radios and newspapers reported battles lost, islands overrun, and ships sunk. Movie theaters ran vivid newsreels before every featured film. Up on the movie screen, children saw battle scenes, German soldiers, and Japanese
warplanes. Such images were especially chilling to people with loved ones fighting in the war.
When America first entered the war, only young single men, like Charlotte’s brother Jim, were called into service. Soldiers agreed to serve as long as the war lasted, plus six months. Young men like Jim ended up serving four or five long years—from 1941 until the war ended in 1945, or even longer.
Mothers hung a blue star in the window for each son in service, as Charlotte’s mother did. If a son was killed, a gold star replaced the blue one. Some families had more than one gold star before the war was over.
Eventually, married men and fathers also had to serve in the military. Only men with medical problems, extreme family hardships, or jobs vital to the war—like the work Charlotte’s father did—were deferred, or excused, from service.
When a man served in the war, his family did not know where he was or how much danger he was facing. The government censored all letters to and from servicemen, cutting out words that might tell enemy spies about troop movements or war production. Letters between soldiers and their families show the heartbreak and sadness these separations caused, and also the bravery of women at home, who wrote strong, encouraging letters to their men overseas. One such woman signed each letter “all my love, all my life.”
Millions of American men and women served in the war. Many did not return—400,000 Americans died in World War II, and nearly 17 million people died across the world.
In the steel towns of Pennsylvania, as in the rest of the country, World War II required patriotism and sacrifice. Americans turned all their efforts to victory, believing with President Roosevelt that freedom must be preserved, whatever the cost.
GEOGRAPHICAL NOTE
There really is a Whisper Bend on the Monongahela River, but for purposes of this story, the cove has been moved several miles downstream to the town of Braddock, and a lock and dam have been moved upstream.
About the Author
Katherine Ayres writes fiction and nonfiction for all ages and teaches writing to graduate students at Chatham University. She lives in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and Stockbridge, Massachusetts, and when not writing or teaching, she loves to walk, hike, kayak, spend time with kids, knit, and keep watching for bears. Visit her at www.katherineayres.com.
Voices at Whisper Bend Page 11