by Linda Ellen
HER BLUE-EYED SERGEANT
Soldiers of Swing: Book One
By
Linda Ellen
Synopsis
He has his life all planned out – until one night at a dance at the USO in town, he meets her…
A secret blurted out in a moment of anger had turned Staff Sergeant Eugene Banks’ life upside down, but he moved on and made a good life for himself. At the moment, he’s concentrating on solving a mystery he had stumbled onto at his job over the motor pool at Fort Knox.
Vivian Powell is contented with her life; she has family, friends, and a good job as a bank teller. Although she was nursing a broken heart, she has since moved forward and isn’t looking for love. At the urging of a friend, she decides to join the war effort by becoming a junior hostess at the local USO…
These two people meet one fateful night at a dance, and their lives are everlastingly changed. What follows is a beautiful courtship, while dodging the fact that she signed an agreement to be available every Saturday night to dance with dozens of soldiers, and in spite of two confusing mysteries that refuse to be solved. Beautiful, that is, until Vivian catches Gene doing the very thing that he swore he would never do, and it nearly rips their romance in two!
If you love stories about WWII and the “Greatest Generation” that read like you’re watching a classic movie, with handsome soldiers and beautiful girls-next-door, then Her Blue-Eyed Sergeant is for you!
This is the first book in the Soldiers of Swing series. Get it now and meet Gene and Viv.
Book 2 will be Her Blue-Eyed Corporal, and Book 3 will be Her Blue-Eyed Lieutenant.
These are clean romances that contain no profanity or illicit sex.
Reviews
This story takes place in Louisville, Kentucky during WWII. It’s a love story with substance and real life experiences that everyone can relate to. This book is about two young women who join a club that entertains servicemen, and of course, our heroine meets Mr. Right there, but that’s just the beginning. Ms. Ellen takes us through their personal trials and family surprises with humor and sentimentality. Sometimes while reading I laughed and sometimes I had to wipe away a tear.
The book is well written and the characters were well developed. It was romantic, included some Kentucky history, and it had a happy ending. What more could a reader ask for? I was pleased to discover book two will be about her friend Mary June. Linda Ellen is a talented author and I thoroughly enjoyed her last series: The Cherished Memories.
~ Christian Western Historical Romance Author Barbara Goss
Her Blue-Eyed Sergeant
Soldiers of Swing Series, Book 1
Written by Linda Ellen
Copyright © 2016 by Linda Ellen
Trade Paperback Release: December 2016
Electronic Release: December 2016
lindaellenbooks.weebly.com
ISBN: 978-0-9909044-7-2
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated.
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Although this book is a work of fiction, real locales, streets, and places were used. Brands are used respectfully. Details regarding Louisville, Ft. Knox, and the surrounding areas during WWII were taken from the memories of those who lived then, as well as photographs and information found online.
The following story contains themes of real life, but is suitable for all ages, as it contains no illicit sex or profanity.
Cover design by Samantha Fury
Editing by Venessa Vargas
Proofreading by Kathryn Lockwood
Formatting by BB eBooks
Chapters
Title Page
Synopsis
Reviews
Copyright Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Dedications
About the Author
HER BLUE-EYED SERGEANT
Soldiers of Swing, Book One
By
Linda Ellen
There have been many great WWII romance novels written featuring soldiers serving overseas, with detailed fighting and battles in their storylines. This is a bit different, in that it is a light-hearted story about soldiers and civilians who are contributing to the war effort back home, not a part of the monumental battles fought “Over there.” Soldiers on the home front were just as important to the war effort.
CHAPTER 1
Home Federal Savings & Loan, Main Branch
Louisville, Kentucky
April 1942
It had started out as a normal day for Vivian Powell. So normal, in fact, that she could not have imagined it would hold the power to change the rest of her life…
On duty at her job as a teller in the main branch of Home Federal Savings & Loan, Vivian smiled at one of her Friday regulars as her hands hovered over the smooth black granite counter of her station.
Snapping the crisp tens, fives, and ones, she quickly and expertly counted the bills from customer Frank Allison’s cashed paycheck where he could see her actions. Then, she gently pushed the money through the slot under the teller window’s shiny metal bars.
“There you go, Mr. Allison. Did you want to purchase a Defense Savings Bond today?” she asked, mindful of the bank manager listening from a few feet away. It was one of his strictest rules that the tellers push the bonds hard.
“No ma’am, I can’t today…but I plan to at the first of the month,” he promised with a sheepish look.
“All right, then. See you next Friday,” she grinned. An attractive girl with wavy, honey-blonde hair that fell just past her shoulders, smooth skin, and beautiful light brown eyes framed with long, thick dark brown lashes, Viv was a favorite among the customers.
This one was not immune to her beauty. He grinned back at her as he scooped up the bills and placed them carefully in his wallet.
“Thanks, Miss Viv. You have a good weekend, now, you hear? You work too hard. You should go out and have fun. Young, pretty girl like you shouldn’t spend all her time behind these cold steel bars like she was in jail or something,” he added, chuckling at his own joke.
“Look who’s talking,” she shot back in their customary friendly banter. She knew he worked hard all week at his job as a longshoreman down at the Louisville wharf, and he had the calluses and muscles to prove it. “You go home and tell your wife you’re going to take her out on the town. I bet she’d love that.”
He smiled shyly at her and almost looked as if he were blushing. “Aww, my Alma knows I’ve got two left feet when it comes to dancing – but thank the Lord, she married me anyway.”
Vivian chuckled and shooed him on his way, her eyes following him with a sparkle of affection as he ambled out the door.
“He’s right about you spending all your time behind these cold steel bars,” a voice piped up beside her, belonging to her best friend,
twenty-two year old Mary June Harriman. “You do need to get out and enjoy life.”
Vivian rolled her eyes and cast her gaze over at her friend, a pleasant looking girl with dark brown hair and blue eyes, a bit taller than Vivian’s 5’2”, and saw she was busy counting out her cash drawer for the end-of-day tally. “You know why…” she paused thoughtfully.
“Yes, I know why,” Mary June jumped in. “And it’s about time you forgot that creep and got on with the business of living! Just because one guy hurt you doesn’t mean they all will.”
Vivian drew in a large breath and released it in a slow sigh. The two girls had had this same discussion more times than Vivian cared to remember. But, it seemed she was stuck in quicksand, her emotions frozen in time when she thought about trying to actually trust a man again. Her last boyfriend, Walter Guernsey, had lied and cheated, scorching her emotions so badly, the mental scar tissue made her wonder if she would ever get completely over it.
“I really wish you’d think about joining the club with me. It’s so much fun, and so many cute guys, it’s hard to pick just one,” Mary June giggled as she shot a grin over her shoulder.
Vivian grinned back as she began counting her drawer. Both girls were silent for a few minutes as they completed the task and took the day’s transactions and money over to Mr. Gates, the bank manager.
Mary June took up the conversation where she’d left off. “Dang it Viv, you’re just the kind of girl they’re looking for! They tell us all the time they need to recruit more junior hostesses. You fit the requirements – you’re single, between 18 and 25, and you’re what the men would call perky, cute, and sweet, the ‘girl next door’. And we need help, there are so many soldiers – why last weekend, they decided to keep count of the servicemen visiting the club from noon on Saturday to 6 p.m. on Sunday and do you know how many signed in? Forty thousand!”
Vivian’s mouth dropped open in amazement. She turned her head, piercing her friend’s gaze to see if she were exaggerating – but the clear veracity in the blue eyes staring back at her spoke volumes.
“Forty thousand? How is that even possible?” Vivian shook her head in bewilderment.
“It’s called ‘organized chaos’, that’s how,” her friend quipped. “I about danced my feet off Saturday night. The place was packed like sardines – wall to wall uniforms of every size, type, and rank. At times my ever-changing dance partners and I could barely move on the dance floor. But it was still the bee’s knees,” she added, flashing Vivian a silly grin as she reached into the bottom drawer of her station and retrieved her pocketbook.
Vivian lapsed into thought as she gathered her own things to go home for the day. Her co-worker and best friend had been trying for the past six months to persuade Vivian to join her in the ranks of junior hostesses who helped entertain service men at the USO on the weekends and “reminded them of their girls back home.” Vivian remembered the excuses she had given her friend, one after the other…first she begged off because she was dating a young man she had gone to school with and he had insisted he wanted her nowhere near “hundreds of lonely G.I.’s with roaming hands and rushing fingers.” Then, when their romance had, as they say, “crashed and burned”, Vivian had spent several months nursing her broken heart and keeping strictly away from anything resembling an eligible man.
However, Vivian acknowledged, lately she had begun to realize she had made it through the heartbroken stage and might finally be ready to, as her grandmother used to say, “Take off her scarf and shake her hair loose in the wind.” To have fun again, like the twenty-one-year-old that she was, for heaven’s sake. To take a chance, stretch forth a foot, and stick one toe into the proverbial “warm waters” again. That thought made her chuckle as she retrieved her own pocketbook and began to make her way to the swinging gate in the half wall that separated the lobby from the tellers.
Changing direction after only a few strides, she decided to make a quick trip to the bank’s luxurious employee restroom before sitting on the bus for fourteen grueling, bouncing miles – all the way from Fifth Street to Cooper Chapel Road. Her friend had the same thought, and veered in the direction of the restroom as well.
After finishing their business, the two girls stood at the identical marble sinks washing their hands and freshening up their hair and lipstick for their respective trips home. As Mary June liked to say, “You never know when you might bump into Mr. Right, and you sure don’t wanna look like Miss Wrong!”
Focusing on her friend’s image in the mirror, Vivian casually asked, “So…now, I’m not saying I’m going to, but…hypothetically speaking…do I just show up at the club, or…?”
Mary June let out a squeal of excitement and spun to grab Vivian in a quick hug. “You’ll come? Oh Viv, you won’t regret it. I promise, you’ll love it, really!”
“But…”
Mary June forged right on, not allowing her friend to skitter back from that infamous water’s edge. “First, you’ll need to get a recommendation letter and bring it to an interview with Miss Warren, the club’s Recreation Director.” At Vivian’s look of concern, Mary June hastened, “The letter’s just a formality. It’s a way to help them make sure they are signing up decent girls, and not floosies or girls that would try to fleece the G.I.’s out of their hard-earned pay,” she added with a wink.
Vivian laughed at her vivacious friend. “Well, I sure wouldn’t do th—”
The other girl interrupted again, “Of course you wouldn’t! Now, you can ask Pastor Rodgers at church on Sunday if he’ll write the letter for you – and you know he will, heck he’s known you since you were born – and then on Monday, call the club’s office and make an appointment to go see Miss Warren. You can do it on your lunch hour, since the club’s not far from here. I’ll go with you. Okay?” she prompted, eyebrows raised in hopeful expectation as she grasped Vivian’s arms. “Oh Viv, I can’t wait for you to go to the first dance – you’ll be wondering why you waited so long!”
Vivian shook her head and chuckled at her madcap companion. She knew it would do no good to say she had not actually agreed to join her as a USO Junior Hostess. Her co-worker drew her into another quick hug, and then suddenly squealed, “Eeek! We’d better hurry or we’ll miss the 4:15!” Vivian laughed again and allowed her friend to scurry her from the room, down the hall, across the cool, elegantly marbled lobby, out the door, and miraculously onto the bus just as it stopped at the corner.
Together, they plopped into the last available seat and smoothed their skirts and hair from their mad dash down the street. Like the good friends that they were, they comfortably chatted about various topics until Mary June got off at her stop on Loretta Street.
Vivian spent the rest of her ride in silence, contemplating what could be big changes in the near future.
Tuesday afternoon, during their lunch hour, Vivian and Mary June sat together in front of a meticulous mahogany desk that held a black telephone, bright green lamp, writing pad, and several metal trays for paperwork. Off to one side was a large Remington typewriter. Vivian allowed her gaze to scan the small room, noting pictures with pleasant nature scenes on the walls, a large green metal file cabinet by the door, and a tall window overlooking Fifth Street. The window was open a little, allowing a bit of the fresh spring breeze to filter in.
A woman sat behind the desk dressed in the popular business style of the day, a dark blue ladies tailored wool skirt suit, and for a moment, Vivian felt a bit out of place in her simple work dress of blue and green plaid cotton with a starched white collar. She unconsciously reached up with one hand and smoothed the waves of her hair, which she was sure were askew from her and Mary June’s dash down the windy street. The girls met one another’s eyes and Mary June raised her eyebrows for a second as they waited for Miss Warren to finish a telephone call.
Finally, she said goodbye and hung up the receiver.
“I apologize for the interruption,” she addressed the girls as she stood and held out one hand. “Miss
Powell, I’m Elizabeth Warren, Recreation Director for the USO-Louisville Service club. I’m in charge of screening junior hostess candidates, as well as a hundred other duties,” she added with a warm smile as she shook Vivian’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Vivian responded politely.
“Miss Harriman,” the woman acknowledged Mary June with an upturned curl of the lips that the younger woman returned.
Sitting back down, the director picked up Vivian’s application and reference letter, and then took a moment to peruse them both. Satisfied, she glanced up and smiled at Vivian in a cordial, matronly way.
“Your references seem to be in order, dear. Now then, let me tell you a little about this organization,” she began. “Sometime in late 1940, certain businessmen in the city saw the need of a place for our boys in the service to go for clean, wholesome entertainment; a place to relax and feel safe and comfortable when they are off duty. Most of them, you know, will be shipped out to places unknown and more than likely face injury or death,” she paused as the girls nodded solemnly.
“Therefore, it is our patriotic duty to see that they have a pleasant time until they are deployed. As a result, this facility was opened on March 7 last year, nine months to the day before Pearl Harbor. We have the honor of being the first soldiers’ club in the United States – and we served as a model for the national United Service Organizations’ clubs that began to spring up once America joined the war.”
Vivian, wide-eyed and suitably impressed, cast a quick glance at her friend, who grinned back at her – she had heard the same spiel when she had first joined.
Miss Warren smiled, pleased with Vivian’s reaction. “We are quite proud of what we have accomplished here in a little over a year, Miss Powell. Within two months of our grand opening, we had registered six thousand soldiers and signed up twelve hundred girls to be our junior hostesses.”