“It’s a pleasure,” the woman says. Her accent is thick with a rushed sound. Unlike Isabel, she has a face full of makeup, her nails painted, and jewelry that looks like it might cost more than a car. She also has dark hair, but it’s pinned back and hanging below the back of her shoulder blades. “I’m Beverly from New York City—Long Island, to be specific.”
“Well, that explains the accent. I’ve heard New Yorkers have a way with words,” I say, smiling to make light of the comment. Everett told me about the few times he was in New York and how different the people acted, even different from other large cities like Los Angeles. He said the accents were strong, and the attitudes were often larger than life, but he met none other than wonderful people from the “Big Apple,” as he called it.
“Oh yeah, we’re always in such a big hurry that we don’t have time to pronounce our R’s. True story,” she jests back. “Boston accents aren’t much better, but I don’t hear anything too strong with you, Isabel.”
“Suburbia will do that to you,” Isabel replies.
“I guess so. Well, at least the three of us can say we know another person here now, huh? It’s nice to meet you ladies. Hopefully, we get to stick together around here, you know?” Beverly says.
“That would be nice,” I agree.
As Beverly is hanging some of her street clothes, I notice an enormous diamond on her ring finger. None of us could enlist if married, so I assume she must be engaged to a man back home. “What a beautiful ring,” I say.
“Oh my Gosh,” Isabel follows, scurrying over to get a closer look. “That rock is huge.”
Beverly inspects the ring for a long second. “I’m surprised to have this on my finger, to be honest. Johnny, my boyfriend—err—fiancé was not on board with me enlisting, but I spent years becoming a nurse and I want to see the world, you know? He’s already settled down working at his father’s investment company and doesn’t have the motivation to seek adventure like me. I figured it’s going to be now or never if I plan to spend the rest of my life with him. Honestly, I thought he was breaking things off with me before I left yesterday, but to my surprise, he popped the question. Bing, bang, boom. We’re engaged to be wed, but who knows when that’ll happen.”
“Well, he obviously doesn’t want you to forget about him while you’re gone,” Isabel says.
“Please, I’m sure he’ll have forgotten about me within a week. All those secretaries flocking through his office building every day, he’ll get bored and we all know what bored men do, right? The ring was just a way for him to make sure I didn’t take up with another guy.”
“I’m fortunate to have no experience with a man like this, but it looks like I might have opportunities to see how slimy some men can be,” Isabel continues with a sinful wink.
The conversation brings me a sense of unease, so I turn to my suitcase and begin pulling articles of clothing out to hang up. It doesn’t take me long before I’m settled and waiting for our next set of orders. I take a seat on my stiff mattress and reach over for my coat, draped over the metal frame. The silky-smooth finish of the photo paper meets my fingertips as I reach into the pocket. I pull the black-and-white image out and stare into Everett’s eyes for a long moment. I’m not ready for the words on the back yet, but the smitten look of pride written across his face is exactly what I needed to see. The urge to kiss his face is strong, but I’m not ready to answer questions about him yet, so I slip the photograph into my journal I set down on top of the trunk.
I’m not sure if this is what I was expecting prior to my arrival, but I desperately need to always keep busy to avoid my thoughts going haywire. Hopefully, tomorrow will be more enlightening and allow us a chance to learn more about what we will do here in basic training.
35
June 1942
Six months,and two season changes have come and gone. From single digit temperatures with snow and ice, to days of rain and damp air, to temperatures in the mid-nineties, which is rare for June in New England, I feel like I might be acclimated for any kind of weather for wherever we end up. I can say for certain our training has prepared us for the unexpected and the inevitable. We have been pushed to the edge of our physical capabilities and filled our brains with more knowledge than I thought we could retain, but if we aren’t prepared for war now, we will never be.
For a person who has never needed to plan out what happens next in life, I’m sitting with a bit of unease as I hold my focus on the foreboding look in Captain Landry’s dark eyes, waiting to hear what will follow this unexpected announcement. She doesn’t waver at the idea of changing directions or being in the throes of unscheduled events, but she seems unusually flustered today.
“We will leave immediately for Camp Kilmer. Once we are there, we will prepare to embark on the ship that will take us overseas.” Captain Landry clasps her fingers together in front of her waist. “The number of nurses in our unit was originally higher, but because of those who didn’t make it through training, we cannot meet our original quota. However, we received approval to move forward with our current resources. I don’t want you ladies to walk into this situation blindly. I expect our tasks to be harder, longer, and more rigorous than anything you’ve encountered before now. With that said, I know what we can accomplish together.”
Our unit started with over sixty nurses, but we are down to forty-one. Training proved to be more difficult for some. After years of preparing mentally for our work, the physical regimen was intense and unforgiving. There were times I didn’t think I would make it through to the next day, but somehow, I persevered and put mind over matter. Giving up was not an option and now, after six months of conditioning, it’s difficult to hear that we should expect more of a challenge than what we were expecting. We had no advanced warning of when we might move or deploy. Some days it felt like we were working toward an endless goal, but it was all to prepare for this moment—a moment with a road leading down a dark tunnel of unanswered questions. We don’t know where we will end up following Camp Kilmer, but we are told to ignore the spinning thoughts and take the days as they come. Of all people, I should be okay with the lack of information, but I’m not. My stomach feels like it’s twisting into tight knots and my heart is racing. The other women who are standing side by side in our semi-circle appear equally reluctant, but the choice is not ours to make. We have to go where we are told. That’s what we signed up for.
Once dismissed, I have orders to follow before decampment, but if there was one solid piece of advice, I received in all the letters from Dad over the months; it was to keep my belongings organized and prepared to pack at a moment’s notice. The time I’m allotted when it’s time to move, I will want to use for tying up any loose ends.
“I heard we were being deployed to Africa,” I overhear Beverly gossiping with Isabel.
“Who’d you hear that from?” Isabel responds with her typical doe-eyed look.
“Oh, you know how word gets around in the mess hall. I heard two of the boys talking over their coffee this morning.”
I know better than to go by gossip. There could be multiple organizations deploying simultaneously, or we could all be going to one location, but we won’t know until we are told.
After emptying the wall cabinet next to my cot, I neatly place my hygiene supplies in the appropriate spaces in my canvas duffle bag. A small stack of note paper, envelopes, stamps, and a pen is all I have left to pack. I kneel in front of my empty footlocker and rest a piece of paper on top of an envelope.
Because tomorrow cannot be a promise.
My Dearest Everett,
It’s only been a couple days since I’ve written to you last, but I want to let you know that I’m moving to New Jersey to prepare for the next leg of my journey. I’m not sure how long I will be there or where I will go next, but I suppose that’s the adventure in all of this, right?
Excitement. Everett, I’m not excited. I’m petrified, to be honest. Maybe all the years I spent declaring how unimportant our tomorrows are is coming back to haunt me. The unknown has never scared me as much as it does now. Of course, the state of the world, in its current condition, is only adding to my fears. Goodness, my intent of this letter was to let you know I am all right and trudging forward to New Jersey, not to release my troubles onto your already burdened shoulders. If I wasn’t nearly out of time, I might tear up this letter and start from scratch, but I only have a few minutes left before I must report at transportation.
