Was there something she could do?
“I see you received another letter from your sister,” her father said, interrupting her train of thought.
“Yesterday. The third in three weeks. I can’t accuse her of being a lazy correspondent. Not like Gus,” she added uncertainly.
“We would know if something happened to him, Dorothy.”
“I suppose you’re right. I just have to think positively.”
She touched the latest letter from Dash, folded in her pocket. It was brimming with news, high spirits, and even a couple of photographs. Dash wrote so well, Dot could almost hear her sister saying the words out loud. She pulled the note out again and read to herself while her father returned to the newspaper.
I met some lovely girls on the train, then even more when we arrived at the training station in Galt. The place itself is not much “to write home about,” as they say, but there’s so much to keep us busy. We do everything from physical exercises (I’ve never run so much in my life!) to Morse code (easy for me!) to semaphore, and we scrub floors like nobody’s business. Oh, and you’ll be happy to hear, Dot, that I am now being compensated for my work! Ninety-five cents a day. See? Mr. Meier never needed to pay me after all.
By now you’ve seen the best news of all. What do you think? Isn’t it the snappiest uniform you’ve ever seen? In case you can’t tell with the black-and-white-photograph, it’s navy-blue wool. It would look great with your hair. I know, I know, but it really would. I’ll tell you, I was smiling an awful lot more in this picture than I did when I first put it on. As soon as I was issued the uniform, Chief Wren Merrivale, the woman in charge, sat me down and stuck a smallpox needle in one arm and typhoid in the other. They told us that we’d feel it the next day, and boy, did we ever! I could barely move!
By the way, that’s Virginia on my right (I call her Ginny). Ginny’s from Parry Sound and has a couple of brothers (fighting overseas). She and I are bunkmates, and she’s the funniest thing. Honestly, she should be an actress. The most fun thing is that she likes doing mechanics! We’re hoping to get posted together somewhere.
Dot drew the photograph in close, inspecting her sister’s porkpie hat, which she’d set at a jaunty angle. The white band around it said H.M.C.S. in bold black letters, just like it would with any able seaman, indicating that Dash was part of the navy. Part of the war.
For the longest time, Dot had purposefully avoided reading or talking about the conflict. War was the very picture of uncertainty, and there was little that Dot liked less than the unknown. She wanted facts. Logic. Then Fred had been killed, and Gus had vanished into thin air. Nothing about them being gone made any sense at all to her. Then Dash had left. In the moment when she had joined the navy, Dash had brought the war right into their bedroom.
As much as that terrified Dot, the idea had begun to intrigue her. Her sister looked so happy. She made it sound like such fun.
Her gaze went to Ginny, a tall girl whose blond curls were mostly hidden under her hat, and she felt a pang of jealousy. What of? Was she envious of the time Dash’s new friends got to spend with her? Or was it the fresh and excited expressions on their faces? Maybe it was the courage that had put them all out there in Galt. The courage Dot couldn’t seem to summon.
With both Dash and Gus gone, Dot forced herself to ask the obvious question, though she’d tried very hard to avoid it. The answer was that yes, she still felt she was helping with the war effort. She had even gone with her mother to donate blood, just to prove she could. But were her small, safe contributions enough? Could she do more?
“I’m thinking of joining the Wrens,” she blurted out.
Her father peered over the newspaper, startled. “Why, that would be commendable, Dorothy, but I am somewhat surprised. Are you certain that sort of life is for you?”
“I am absolutelynotcertain. But I want to help. Like Dash. I want to do more.”
The paper slowly lowered, and he regarded her closely. “I know how frightening it can be for some of us to step beyond our established limits.”
She swallowed. Suddenly it seemed like an awfully rash decision. “Would you and Mom be all right without me?”
“We would survive.”
“Dash says there is a lot I could do.”
He smiled at that. “You, my dear, could most likely do whatever you wanted. Like your sister, I’ve never seen anything that can stop you.”
“Except engines.”
“Yes, yes. Except engines. We’ll leave those to Margaret, shall we?”
An unexpected prickle of anticipation crept through her body. Was this what it felt like to be Dash? To make a choice to do something, then head right out and do it?
“I think I should look into it right away, before I back out. I’m not used to feeling this courageous, and I’m afraid the sensation might fade.”
“That is wise, my dear girl, though I suggest you go to the recruitment office Monday, not today. I imagine it’s closed on weekends.”
“I should tell Mom first, of course.”
“Tell me what?”
Dot paled as her mother came into the living room. There would be no going back if she declared her intentions to her mother. She debated dismissing the idea altogether, but her father calmed her with a simple nod.
