“Me neither, except I’ve come all this way from Manitoba, so I guess that counts.”
“Manitoba!”
“Little place called Flin Flon. Way up north, near the Saskatchewan border. You’ve probably never heard of it. Anyway, I think we’re going to have a jolly time. Know what I heard about this place where they’re taking us? HMCS Conestoga? It used to be the Grandview School for Girls, a detention centre for ‘wayward’ girls. So you’d better behave!”
They talked of this and that, and Dot was amazed by how easy it was to chat with Alice. Almost immediately, she showed Dot a photo of her boyfriend, who was in the navy. He was slender with a sharp chin and a smile that looked carefree.
“Does he have red hair, too?”
“He does!” Alice said with delight. “Just the right red.”
Their conversation made the next two hours fly by, and when they pulled into the station in Galt, Dot was optimistic that she might already have made a friend. She could hardly wait to write to Dash and tell her about Alice, the train, and whatever else was about to happen.
“This looks like our crew,” Alice said, approaching a group of young women on the platform. Dot trailed behind and smiled shyly at the other girls as they introduced each other.
“Ladies!”
A woman in a crisp, navy-blue uniform had emerged from the cabof a truck and was striding toward them. Dot glanced at Alice, who had gone silent along with the others.
“I am Chief Wren Merrivale,” the woman announced, and Dot bit her lip against a grin.
Lt. Merrivale, Dash had written,is like a Tootsie Pop. Hard on the outside, soft on the inside—though she’s not nearly that sweet. I tried to butter her up on my first day, and I quickly learned that was a mistake. She rather neatly put me in my place, saying she was not there to be my friend.
“Welcome to Galt, where you will begin your training with the Women’s Royal Canadian Naval Services. You know our slogan, that by signing up, we ‘free a man to serve.’ Here, you will learn discipline and trades. By taking their places, you enable our brave men to win this war and come home sooner. The Women’s Royal Canadian Naval Services is a professional, well-trained, and highly dedicated branch of the military. We expect your utmost dedication and disciplined attention to everything you are taught. Is that understood?”
Dot’s head bobbed like a doll’s. Chief Wren Merrivale was not like any Tootsie Pop she had ever had.
“Excellent. Well, ladies, we have a hill to climb before we officially arrive at HMCS Conestoga.” She extended a hand toward the truck. “So please get aboard. There will be a tour when we arrive, and you will receive your uniforms. This will be a long day. The hard work starts tomorrow.”
Lt. Merrivale wasn’t wrong—the day went on and on. At the end of the tour, which gave Dot and the others a complete picture of where they would eat, exercise, learn, and socialize, they were led to the barracks. Dot stopped just inside the door, taking in the rows of bunks, and felt a familiar panic sweep into her chest. If Dash had been there, she would have reached for her hand, giving reassurance. But Dot was on her own.
In her absence, Dot reached for logic to calm her.Why am I here?To help in the war effort, of course. To fight the Nazis however she could and help Gus get home soon. Certainly it was all that, but deep down she knew it was much more. Her mind returned to the kitchen table, to the security and love of her small circle at suppertime, to the crosswordsat breakfast. She wanted her family to be proud that she could do this by herself. She wanted Dash to see she could be alone and not afraid.
She studied the other girls moving into the room, some with confidence, some unsure, and she thought maybe she understood a little better. Here, in this place where she knew no one and nothing, where the very idea of sleeping among strangers chilled her straight through, she might discover another part of herself. Here she wouldn’t just be a sister to one, she might just become a friend to many.
fourteenDASH— Toronto, Ontario —
On their way home from the movie, Dash lifted her face to the sky. The first tiny flakes of snow kissed her nose, bringing back memories of snowball fights and skating on the rink that her father and Uncle Bob made every year. Of Dot’s red cheeks above her scarf, and the way they laughed, holding each other upright on the ice. Ginny and Mary were talking about something, but Dash let herself drift out of her friends’ conversation, distracted by the beauty of the night. The war might have stolen many things, but she could still find moments like this to soothe her.
A man was walking toward them, tall and confident in the falling snow. His hands were in his pockets, and his long coat fell open over a tan-coloured army uniform. She watched him approach, struck by the familiarity of his stride and posture. Then he reached up to brush the snow off his hair, and her heart stopped.
“Gus?”
Their eyes met, and he froze in place. “Dash?”
“Gus?” she cried. “Is that really you?”
Then they were both laughing, and she ran into his open arms. She couldn’t help that she was crying, and she didn’t bother wiping her tears away.
“I can’t believe it,” he said, hugging her hard. “It’s so good to see you.”
“We haven’t heard from you in so long!” she admonished him, drawing back. “We were afraid—”
“I’m sorry. Things have been… busy. I guess I—”
“Hello,” Mary said, fluttering her lashes and holding out a hand. She and Ginny had sidled up next to Dash and were eyeing Gus with curiosity.
He shook it. “I’m Gus. I’m an old friend of Dash’s.”
