A group of women, all who appear a little lost, seem to appear one by one within a few feet of Betsy and me. All of us have our attention set on the soldiers. Once the bus departs from the station, the soldier who does not look like Everett shouts: “2nd Evacuation, report here for duty.” His voice is loud, hoarse, and daunting. Everett’s carbon copy places the tips of his fingers against his lips and whistles toward a bus parked several yards away down the curb.
“Welcome to the Army Nurse Corps where you are now reporting for duty on behalf of the United States Army. You must obey every rule and order from this point forward. Any behavior disregarding the policies will be a cause for disciplinary action. Line your suitcases up along the edge of the curb and board the bus that will take you to Fort Devens.”
I should be familiar to this tone; the volume of the spoken words, and the meaning—so uncompromising and harsh. I’ve lived with this familiarity my entire life, but hearing the words directed at me sends an unwavering jolt of unease through my nerves. Being a girl who has never liked to follow rules and got away with doing things I shouldn’t have been doing, this transition might be more challenging than I originally thought.
34
January 1942
The second bustrip was not nearly as exhilarating as the one from the airport. We waited for about an hour until the bus departed for Fort Devens. No one spoke a peep through the fifteen-minute ride. I can only imagine that everyone has the same thoughts and questions running through their mind that I do. Though I’ve grown up in this lifestyle, around military personnel, I’m unsure how different this branch of the Army will be. Women have been enlisting as nurses in the Army since the first World War, but there are so few Army Corps nurses across the country that everything involved seems like classified information. I suspect the number of enlisted nurses is on the rise after the attack on Pearl. It’s a new day now, and everything is different, but I’ll bet everyone is wondering what comes next.
As I stand in the center of the chaos, I feel dumbstruck. I glance in every direction watching personnel perform tasks and duties, but while there is a consistent movement along the perimeter of the base, there are also several sets of straight-faced stares reciting rules and regulations, directions, assignments, expectations, and timelines. It’s will be impossible to remember every word of what I’m listening to, but I’m sure I’m not the only one feeling overwhelmed.
Through the corner of my eyes, I glance at some other faces to my left and right. There are plenty of pale complexions, wide eyes, and fidgeting hands. All these women have been through the rigorous training of becoming a registered nurse over the last few years, but this is different. It will be far more intense and will require not only strong mental cognition but will be physically demanding as well.
“Basic training will begin tomorrow morning at zero five hundred hours here in the quad where you will receive assignments for particular units that will ultimately prepare you for whatever challenges lie ahead.”
Captain Landry, our direct report, clasps her gloved hands together in front of her navy-blue wool jacket and matching skirt. On a freshly fallen patch of snow, I assume she must be frigid in her stockings and shiny black laced Oxford shoes standing on the frozen platform, although she is standing stiff as a board. I’m shivering and my muscles are so tight I’m afraid I won’t be able to move once we’re dismissed. I’ve never felt cold like this before. My blood needs to thicken up a bit.
“If any of you have questions for me, now is a good time to ask.”
The air is distinct here too; it seems thicker and dense with scents I’m not used to. The combination of gunpowder, nicotine, cigar smoke, and coffee beans don’t mix well, but I suppose I will become accustomed to it all quickly, especially after having to adapt to the smell of burning metal, wood, and oil-ridden ocean water that had become the normal fragrance in Oahu after the attack.
It shouldn’t come as a surprise when Betsy raises her hand with a question. None of the other women seem to have the nerve to open their mouths at the moment. Nor do I. I’m confident we’ll find out everything we need to in due time. Captain Landry peers down at her clipboard, then sets her focus on Betsy. “Yes, Second Lieutenant Belson.”
“Ah, yeah, I’m just wondering if we’ll be able to take a tour of the base at any point. Are any of the nice soldiers walking around available to show us around to help us get acquainted?”
There are muffled sounds of snickers growing from behind gloves or coat sleeves. Captain Landry does not look amused by Betsy’s question.
“When there is a need for you to become familiar with each part of this base, you will become acquainted as needed,” Captain Landry responds. There is an edge of irritation lacing her words, but by the smirk on Betsy’s face, I don’t think she’s picking up on the obvious cues. Being respectful to rank is a given no matter what service or division a person is in. I would think anyone would know something so simple, but evidently not.
Once Captain Landry completes her introductions, she sends us to a bulletin board adhered to one of the nearby buildings. It’s where we will find our room assignments. The women rush to view the list, most of us eager to find some warmth inside the barracks. I wait my turn, trying to be patient as each woman slides her gloved finger down the column of names.
There are only a few different assigned spaces, and the map beside the list shows the direction of mine. It isn’t a far walk and I arrive in a large galley room covered in wooden plank floors and raw beams between each mattress covered cot. A handful of black pane windows let in very little light, but the area is brightened from the white ceilings and walls. Each bed has a green wool blanket, a rolled pillow, a pair of wall cabinets with a rod beneath for hanging clothes, and a black studded trunk in front of each metal bed frame. It appears there will be sixteen of us living in these quarters.
A few women are inspecting each corner, the bare cabinets and the trunks waiting for our few personal items we could bring. One woman is checking the firmness of a mattress and curls her lip into a grimace. “It’s like a prison, isn’t it?” she asks.
This room is typical for newly enlisted service people starting their basic training. There are no luxuries or extras here, and I easily spotted this information in the fine print of the paperwork we received along with our assignments.
Until a couple months ago, nurses have had a feminine appeal, and while the Army still expects us to look the part of a high-class, upstanding lady, we are also obliged to carry our weight now that we are official members of the US military.
“Does anyone know where the lady’s room is?” Another woman asks.
“I believe I saw it down the hall through that door,” someone directs her.
I place my belongings on my assigned bed, finding myself in between two women who appear to be taking in the surroundings as quietly as me. There is no point in acting shy at a time like this, so I turn to my right and hold out my hand. “I’m Elizabeth,” I say, introducing myself to my neighbor’s back. She spins around on her heels and returns the gesture.
“Isabel,” she replies quietly. Isabel has little makeup on compared to the other women. Her skin is fair and her short, curled hair is as dark as night. Her almond-shaped blue eyes are and wide with wonder, giving her a natural look of compassion. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Where are you from?”
“Honolulu. How about you?”
“Goodness, what a place to be these past couple months, and you have come such a far way? Before the attack on Pearl Harbor, my greatest wish was to visit the islands someday. It must have been like living in paradise, especially compared to this chilly place. I have lived here in Massachusetts my entire life.”
“Hawaii can be wonderful, yes. Well, until this past December, but the islands are beautiful and much like paradise. I’ve spent most of my life on the naval base there, but I had plenty of time in the sand and sun. I’ve never seen snow until today, though. It has been something I’ve always wanted to do, so I was quite excited for my first step into the frozen slush. But, gosh, it is much colder than I could have expected here.”
“Oh dear, yes, it’s even cold for those of us who lived here all our lives. This winter has been miserable so far.”
Well, I suppose if I’m going to experience a New England winter, it might as well be memorable. I stroll along the outside of my cot and approach the bed on the other side. “Hi, I’m Elizabeth and that there is Isabel,” I say, introducing us.
