The Beantown Girls

by Jane Healey

  “I need you to take Barbara,” he said, pleading.

  “Oh my God, is that a dog?” Viv said, leaning out the window to get a better look.

  “Yeah, she’s a mutt. She’s the best—a sweetheart, right, Barb?” he said, hugging her while giving us the hard sell. “She’ll love Vera, I promise. She loves cats. Will you take her?”

  “Who names a dog Barbara?” Dottie asked, smiling while she patted the poor thing.

  “Hey, it’s after a girl from home,” Nelson said. “It’s a great name.”

  “Nelson, how did you even get her to the airfield?” I said.

  “Don’t ask.” He gave me a mischievous look. “So, will you girls take her?”

  I looked at Dottie and Viv, and they both gave me slight nods. How could we say no?

  “Only if you come get her back from us someday,” I said.

  “I promise.” He smiled. “She’ll eat anything; she’s easy, you’ll see,” he said, looking over his shoulder. Then he added, “I’ve got to go. One last hug.”

  He hugged the scruffy dog so tight it broke my heart. “Good-bye, Barbie girl, see you soon,” he whispered.

  He handed her to me, trying to blink away the tears in his eyes.

  “Okay, gotta go. Thanks, girls. Bye, Barbara!” He ran off to hide his tears, and Barbara started to whimper.

  I heard a hiss behind me and looked up to see Vera Lynn standing on the top shelf looking down, her back arched and her orange tail puffed up. Barbara peered up at her and barked in greeting.

  “Oh, this is going to be fabulous,” Viv said, rolling her eyes. “Also, Vera Lynn and Barbara are definitely the stupidest pet names in the entire ETO.”

  “Here, give her to me,” Dottie said. “I think you’ll be a great addition to the team, Barbara.” She gave the dog a hug and arranged the blanket on one of the shelves on the opposite side of the Clubmobile from Vera.

  We had said good-bye to so many friends that morning, and we were so tired it was impossible to hide our emotions. The three of us had to step away from the Cheyenne’s window at different times so they wouldn’t see us cry: Eddie from Arizona, George and Alan—our other observation day helpers, Patrick Halloran, Sam Katz, Nelson, and way too many others to name.

  We blared records over the PA, playing the cheery songs from home that they loved, and the soldiers continued to line up for coffee and conversation to distract them from what they were about to do. At every airfield, I kept searching through the sea of men for the one soldier I had yet to say good-bye to but desperately wanted to see. I was starting to lose hope. Finally, I spotted him before he saw me.

  Peter was standing with some of his men, and they gravitated around him like he was the sun, a strong and steady light in the darkness.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said, taking off my apron.

  “Do you see the line, Fi?” Viv asked, annoyed. But I was already out of the truck, running over to him.

  “Hi,” I said, trying to smooth down my hair, but the wind kept whipping it around.

  “Give me a minute, fellas,” he said. They didn’t whistle or crack jokes; they just nodded and respectfully walked away. Except one.

  “Fiona, I didn’t realize that was you,” Tommy Doyle said.

  “Tommy, is that you under all that equipment? So happy I got to say good-bye to you, my dear friend,” I said, giving him a hug. “I still have the address. But I won’t need it. Stay safe, and I’ll see you soon.”

  “Sounds good,” he said and then whispered, “Captain Moretti is a really good man. A soldier’s soldier. I approve.”

  I just nodded and smiled, kissing him on the cheek, and then he ran off to join the rest of his friends.

  Peter had watched this exchange, amused. “Hi,” he said, giving me a small smile.

  “Hi,” I said, and at the same time we stepped closer to each other and then both laughed, a little embarrassed.

  The sun was just beginning to rise. Tommy had joined the groups of soldiers heading toward the planes now, dark silhouettes against the orange and pink colors of the horizon, like a scene from a movie. An icy breeze blew up again, and I put my arms around myself and shivered.

  “I’d give you my jacket if I could,” he said. “But I’m loaded down at the moment.”

  “It’s okay, I’m just glad I got to see you.”

  “Me too.”

  We stood there for a few seconds looking at each other, and he stepped even closer still.

  “Thank you again for last Saturday night,” he said into my ear. “I have something I want to give you.”

  “Peter, I . . .” But he raised one hand while he reached into his pocket with the other and pulled out a little plastic box. He handed it to me, and I opened it. It was his Purple Heart.

  “Like a lot of our guys, I was injured landing at Utah Beach,” he said. “I want you to have it.”

  “Peter, I can’t—” I started to protest and give it back to him, but he interrupted, placing his hand on mine, over the box.

  “Take it. As a token of friendship and admiration, nothing more,” he said, but he looked in my eyes and we both knew he was lying.

  “I . . . thank you,” I said as he took his hand away.

  “Be safe,” I said. “I’ll see you on the Continent.”

  “I hope you don’t,” he said, his expression serious, and I was stung by his words. “It’s just that you’re so much safer over here. You have no idea. And you know how I hate having to worry about you doughnut girls.”

  “That’s true,” I said with a small laugh.

  “Things are going to be hot over there at first, but when I finally get my next batch of mail, I’ll get word to you if I hear anything from Hank at the IRC. I promise you that.”

  “Thank you,” I said, looking at his face and trying to memorize it—the scar on his brow, his large dark eyes. I had tried to memorize Danny’s too, and my heart was aching in ways that felt very familiar and yet so different. It turns out you can care for two men at the same time, but you never care for them in the exact same way.

  Someone yelled, “Captain Moretti!”

  “Time to go. Take care of yourself,” he said.

  “You too.”

  “Remember, you’re no use to these guys if you’re crying,” he said as he wiped a tear from my cheek.

  “I know,” I said, nodding and smiling through the tears. “Good-bye.”

  He looked around quickly to see if anyone was watching, and then he pulled me into his arms, kissing my forehead, letting his lips linger there for a moment.

  “Good-bye, sweetheart,” he whispered, and with a nod, he walked toward the line of C-47s. As I watched him walk away, I bit my lip to keep from crying more.

  “You okay?” Viv asked when I stepped into the Cheyenne and grabbed my apron.

  “Yeah,” I said with a deep breath. “I am. The hardest part of this job are these damn good-byes.”

  After we had served everyone we could, Jimmy started up the Cheyenne and we headed to the middle of the field with all the others that were left behind. I sat on the hood of Major Bill’s jeep, between Dottie and Viv. Dottie kept nodding off on my shoulder. Hundreds of C-47s, carrying our brave friends, wheeled around the field and then struck off, heading for the channel in a steady stream, until there were so many planes in the sky they nearly blocked the early morning sun.

  We arrived back at Mrs. Tibbetts’s a little while later and stumbled into the cottage, where our dear billeter was waiting for us with a warm meal of fried tomatoes, eggs, toast, and hot tea. I didn’t realize how ravenous I was until we sat down at the kitchen table.

  “Liz was here waiting for you,” she said. “She thought you’d be home earlier, so we sat and had tea, and she waited for about an hour. She’s a lovely girl.”

  “What did Liz want?” I asked, frowning. We were supposed to see her the next day at headquarters.

  “She didn’t say, but she left you this note,” she said with a nod
.

  She handed me a cream-colored envelope. I opened it and read out loud:

  Fiona, Dottie, and Viv—

  Please take the next two days off to recover from your marathon thirty-six-hour shift. Well done, you!

  I came by because I have news I couldn’t wait to share. Miss Chambers has recently been inundated with letters from a number of the officers that have been stationed in the Midlands, all of them singing your praises. We’ll talk more when we meet this week, but, long story short, it’s time to start packing your bags. We’ll all be heading to Zone V in less than two weeks.

  I couldn’t be prouder of you three and the work that you’ve done here. You’ve all come a long way. Get some sleep, and I’ll see you soon to make plans.

  Warmest—

  Liz

  I looked up at the faces around the table. My brain was hazy from lack of sleep, and I was almost too tired to process the news. We were going to the Continent—we were finally going to France.

  “Wow, that’s not what I expected,” Viv said, stifling a yawn.

  “Do you think we can take Barbara?” Dottie asked. She had prominent circles under her eyes and was nearly asleep in her tea.

  We were all quiet for a moment, absorbing the impact of this news.

  “Do you think you might be able to take me?” said Mrs. Tibbetts, giving us a sad smile, her eyes shiny with tears. Dottie squeezed her hand, and I leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  Chapter Seventeen

  September 23, 1944

  Less than a week later, Jimmy arrived at Mrs. Tibbetts’s at 6:00 a.m. to take us back to 12 Grosvenor Square, Red Cross headquarters in London, to gather with other Clubmobile groups. After meeting there, we would join a caravan heading for Southampton and ultimately cross the channel to France on one of the Liberty transport ships.

  The days had blurred into a whirlwind of laundry, packing, writing letters home, and saying good-byes to the remaining troops that were still in the area. I took one last look out our bedroom window, our fairy-tale view of the enchanting English garden and the sheep in the meadow. I would miss this place. I had taken for granted how lucky we had been to have such a perfect billet and a gracious host with a beautiful cottage, fresh vegetables, eggs, and running water.

  And while the work hadn’t been easy or perfect, this place, this job, had taken me out of my grief-stricken rut. It had forced me to focus less on myself and more on helping the men that were here, doing the best that they could, sometimes under unimaginable circumstances.

  Viv, Dottie, and I had barely absorbed the fact we were going to the Continent. I was thrilled and nervous and, in quiet moments, a little scared.

  “Fiona!” Mrs. Tibbetts yelled from downstairs. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” I called, trying to memorize the view before I hurried down.

  “We’re all packed,” Jimmy said. “It’s time.”

  The Cheyenne had a small trailer attached, which included necessary equipment like a back-up generator, water tanks, tents, and other supplies. Jimmy would be accompanying us all the way to Southampton, but then heading back to London to become the driver for a Clubmobile group arriving after we left.

  Mrs. Tibbetts walked us outside, blotting her eyes with her blue tea towel, which of course made us all get misty-eyed.

  “Please promise me you’ll write, so I know you’re safe?”

  “Of course we will,” I said as the three of us leaned in and gave her a hug.

  “And you’ll come back and visit?” she asked. “Someday after all this nonsense is over. You can meet my boys when they come home.”

  If they come home, hung in the air around us like a dark cloud. I knew we had been a distraction from her worries; now she would be alone with them once again.

  “We would love that,” Dottie said.

  “Definitely,” added Viv.

  “Be back soon, Mrs. Tibbetts,” Jimmy said, tipping his hat to her.

  “Please come by for tea, Jimmy,” she said, giving him a warm smile. “And as I’ve told you, you may call me Ginny.”

  Jimmy started the Cheyenne, and we all settled in, Viv in the front, Dottie and I in the back. Vera was on my lap, and Barbara was on Dottie’s. We had given Barbara a few baths and a trim since Nelson had given her to us, but with her bulging black eyes and weird tongue, she would never be considered a good-looking dog.

  As we drove down the road, we kept on waving good-bye to Mrs. Tibbetts until we could no longer see her.

  “I don’t think I even knew that Mrs. Tibbetts’s first name was Ginny,” Viv said, giving Jimmy a sidelong glance. “I’m going to miss her. She’s so lovely, and very pretty, don’t you think so, Jimmy?”

  “Aye, she’s a fine, fine lady,” Jimmy said. If he was still drinking, he wasn’t doing it around us anymore. And he looked better, healthier. His cheeks were ruddy, and his hair was always slicked back now. He looked ten years younger than when we had first met him. “Was thinkin’ she might like to go to the pub with me some night, when I’m back.”

  Viv gave a quick look back at us through the little window and winked.

  “And I was thinking that would be a terrific idea. Don’t you agree, girls?”

  “Yes, great idea,” Dottie and I said, with way more enthusiasm than necessary.

  Jimmy dropped us off at Red Cross headquarters a little after 9:00 a.m. An older woman was sitting at the front reception desk when we walked in, and she looked up our names.

  “You three are part of the group headed to France,” she said, reaching into her drawer. With a flourish, she presented us all with circular patches with a red five in the center, our Zone V patches.

  “These are to be worn on your left sleeve from now on,” she said. “A meeting is being held for you in a room at the end of the hall—second-to-last door on the right.”

  Thanking her, we took the patches and headed toward our meeting. Smiling ear to ear, I felt a surge of pride and gave Dottie and Viv the thumbs-up. We had made it—we were going to the Continent.

  We walked into the large lecture hall, greeting some girls we hadn’t seen since training because they had been stationed in other areas across the United Kingdom. I spotted ChiChi from the Dixie Queen, along with Doris and Rosie. Helen and Ruthie from North Dakota were also there and waved us over to a row of seats in front of them. Just as we sat down, Miss Chambers and Liz entered the room, and everyone stopped talking.

  “Good morning, ladies,” Miss Chambers began. “Welcome back to London. You are the latest group of Clubmobiles to be heading to the Continent.”

  “Your life changed when you joined the Red Cross,” she said. “Now that you are heading to France, it is about to dramatically change again. Here in England, you have lived as civilians in a civilian setting. While you’re familiar with the threat of air raids and buzz bombs, this is a friendly, unoccupied country.

  “On the Continent, you’ll be living and working as part of a military unit in a combat zone, sometimes very close to the front lines,” she said. “You’ll spend much of your time on the road and camping out. K rations may become your most frequent meal, and running water will be a luxury. It’s going to be an adjustment, but you’re here because we think you’re up to the challenge.”

  “She’s always such a ray of sunshine,” Viv whispered, and Dottie and I both shushed her.

  “If for some reason you’re not up to the job, you will be pulled back,” Miss Chambers said. This time she was looking right at us, as if she’d heard Viv. “But I’ve only had to do that once so far. Now Miss Anderson is going to go over the logistics of what needs to get done before you leave this evening.”

  Liz Anderson discussed converting our pounds and shillings to francs, and where in the building we would find our K rations, water tablets, and seasick bags. She also handed us little So Now You Are Going to France booklets with information about the language and customs.

  When the meeting was finished and we got up
to leave, I was not surprised to hear Miss Chambers behind us saying, “Fiona, Dottie, and Viviana, could you come here, please?”

  We walked over to where she was standing at the front of the room.

  “As you know, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be sending you three to the Continent,” she said. She was so tall, she always seemed to be looking down at you. In our case, I was pretty sure she always was.

  “Oh yes, we’re well aware,” Viv said in a tone I thought was perhaps a bit too salty, so I gave her a little kick. No need to mess up our plans now.

  “My original plan was to keep you in Leicester with the remaining troops, but a few things changed my mind,” she said. “One was that I received letters from the officers there about what a commendable job you were doing. The other thing was how highly Liz Anderson speaks of you. She wants you three with her on the Continent. Liz and these officers have clearly seen a side of you that I haven’t witnessed.”

  She paused for a second. “And finally, there is the now-legendary tale of Dottie Sousa’s singing debut at the secret Glenn Miller concert. That is one heck of a way to come out of your shell, Miss Sousa. I had no idea you had it in you.”

  “Me neither to be honest,” Dottie said, blushing deeply. “Thank you.”

  “One more thing: Fiona, I wanted you to know that, after Liz told me, I did write the IRC on your behalf about your missing fiancé,” Miss Chambers said. I was surprised and touched that she had taken the time. “Nothing back from them yet, but I’ll try to get word to you if I hear anything.”

  “Wow,” I said, not able to hide my surprise. “Thank you.”

  “Of course, dear,” Miss Chambers said. “I know I’m tough on you three, but I do have a heart.” She gave us a small smile. “That said, safe travels and please prove yourselves worthy of Liz’s recommendation. Do not let her down.”

  The three of us all promised we wouldn’t, and after more thank-yous and farewells, we sprinted out of the hall, still worried that she might change her mind at the last minute.