“You fell in, Hall. Congratulations!” were the words Colonel Wate had for Liddy.
Trent had his right hand extended when Liddy stepped in front of him. She placed her hand in his and he held it tight as he set her wings in her left hand. He looked down at her and didn’t let go, even when another trainee was waiting to receive her wings.
After the ceremony, parents and in some cases husbands, aunts or uncles pinned the wings on the WASP graduates. Bet’s mother did the honors for her. Geoffrey insisted on doing the pinning for Joy Lynn. He was after all the one who would make sure it was done correctly. Calli pinned Marina, Louise and Liddy and, for the rest of their lives, they would remember the moment with crystal clarity.
A reception was held in the rec hall and then the graduates scattered, but came back together in the evening to set off the fire bell and offer up their last dose of rowdy to the base. The following day they would leave Avenger Field and have long trips home for most of them, but that didn’t get them wound-down any earlier. The girls slept less than three hours before they heard reveille, which wasn’t for them, and they rolled over and smiled.
All of the mattresses were stripped bare and the lockers were empty. Gosport’s tail floated back and forth as he strolled along the porch, saying goodbye to his fans. After he had bid his final farewell, he found a warm spot where the October Texas sun had heated up the concrete, and he stretched out to wait for his next round of admirers.
The baymates were in their dress uniforms as they finished packing. Four suitcases were laid across Marina’s bed and she shuffled her belongings between them.
Bet sat on her suitcase, while Liddy tried to latch it for her. “I had room to spare when I got here.”
The suitcases were click, click, clicked closed just as Joy Lynn came into the bay. “The cattle car just pulled in with some of the new class. Now it’s ready and waiting for us, ladies.”
“They’re wasting no time booting us outta here,” complained Bet.
“They can boot away,” Marina pushed her cases to the end of her bed.
“Our chariot awaits, HPs,” said Louise and she and Joy Lynn each grabbed their bags and one of Marina’s and walked to the door. Louise looked back at Liddy and Bet and asked, “You coming?”
“We’re right behind you,” said Liddy as Bet took one last swipe at some luck from the top of their heads before they walked out the door.
“Hey, watch it, Red, this isn’t flight hair here,” Marina said smoothing her silky mane.
Liddy clicked her suitcase closed then walked into the bathroom and stood at the mirror where she carefully buttoned her jacket and stared blankly at her reflection.
“Are you okay?” Bet asked.
Liddy snapped out of her trance. “Yeah, fine.”
Bet rubbed the top of Liddy’s head.
“Don’t take it all, Bailey.”
“I need to store it up.” Bet looked hard at Liddy and studied her, deep in thought. “What if you’d climbed into another train car the day we met and we hadn’t shared a bay and…? I feel like I can do anything now. And I don’t believe I would have made it, had you not chosen that train car.”
“As much as I’d love to take the credit for giving the world a fabulous pilot, there’s nothing I could have done to give you what you had to have inside. You just didn’t know it was there.” Liddy wrapped her arms around Bet’s little frame and gave a tight squeeze. She brushed her hand over the red curls and said, “For luck.”
They picked up their suitcases, took one last glance around the room and left their bay for the last time.
Twenty-two and a half weeks earlier these women stepped onto Avenger Field for the first time. They were all so very different from one another, different backgrounds, education, families, pasts, but with one thing in common—they were fly girls. That day they all left the base in WASP uniforms with a common purpose, a common dream and wings.
Solemnly, the women climbed into the cattle car to take the three mile ride to Sweetwater. There they would board trains and buses, or climb into an automobile to take a ten day leave before they began the next chapter in their lives. The newest batch of Women’s Airforce Service Pilots didn’t talk but sang their song softly to one another.
Major Trent watched from a distance as the graduates disappeared into the trailer and the truck pulled away. War complicated life, and life complicated war and an urgency to do something brave ran through him.
The trailer rolled out the front gates of Avenger Field and bumped and shimmied over the ruts in the road. Joy Lynn and Marina broke the somber mood in the car when they started battling with one of their crude and proper bits. The gals laughed and soon the dreaming and bragging picked up speed. The trailer filled with celebration as the women reveled in their accomplishment.
A mile or so back, a cloud of dust was kicked up behind an Army jeep and gained on the WASP cargo by the minute. The trainees heard the honking of a horn and looked out the window to see the jeep lining up with the cab of the truck.
“It’s Major Trent,” Bet reported.
“Hey, Hall, looks like they forgot to give you a pink slip,” Carla Vanell cracked. The gals all hooted and joined the tease.
The cattle car driver hit the brakes and rolled to a stop. Trent skidded alongside, parked the jeep and walked to the back of the trailer. He stood at the end of the car and called out, “WASP Liddy Hall.”
The women’s eyes widened with surprise—had their prophecy come true? All attention was on Liddy as she left the bench and opened the door. She stood in the opening and looked out at Trent who was out of breath and glistened with sweat.
“Miss Hall, can I see you for a moment?” He walked to the side of the trailer and waited for her.
Liddy took the steps to the road, walked around the corner and stood in front of him. Even in her confrontations with him, the Major had always had an air of calm and it had aggravated her. Standing here in front of him now, he was anything but calm. He had the glow of someone who just did the exact thing he wanted to do—and was surprised that he had done it. She saw the twinkle and sensed the current, and the smirk was about to break through.
Major Trent pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. “You left this in my office.”
Liddy looked up and saw face after face peering through the windows from inside the trailer, and she turned her back to the nosey WASPs. On the inside of the envelope was the telegram from the hospital, bringing her the news of Jack’s death. On the outside was written, Please write to me: Maj. Reidburn Trent, and the address where she could send letters to him overseas.
Liddy looked up at him, smiled and said simply, “Thanks.”
She slipped the envelope inside her jacket and took in as much as she could of the man. His smirk jeweled his face and she stored it in her mind as she climbed back into the trailer. When she sat down on the bench, the heat of curiosity zinged at her from every side, back and corner of the space.
“Hey, Georgia, you were telling us about the first thing you were gonna do when you hit civilization, don’t leave us hanging girl,” Louise demanded.
Joy Lynn chomped on the bait and kicked right in where she had left off. Soon the gals were laughing and sharing their own plans. Liddy looked at Louise with thanks.
When the sister-friends parted to go their separate ways, the goodbyes were purposefully brief. Bet would be driving to Dallas with her parents and flying back to Boston, and Joy Lynn would drive home with Calli and her folks in the Calbert Caravan.
The cattle car dropped the women at the Blue Bonnet Hotel, and Bet and Joy Lynn met up with their families. Liddy and Marina walked together to the station, but left Sweetwater on different trains. Marina was going to California and Liddy home to Missouri. Louise took a bus home to Colorado, so she had waited with some of the other gals in front of the hotel.
Liddy’s train had its share of WASPs and servicemen, but she kept to herself for most of the trip. She wasn’t sure what to write, but she wrote a letter or really more of a note to Major Reid Trent that day:
October 28, 1943
Dear, (what should she call him?)
My ride into Sweetwater was bumpy, of course, kind of like flying the Vultee. I hope to be home by the end of the week. My father’s funeral will be on Saturday and I will spend the rest of my leave at home in Missouri.
Wishing you safety overseas,
Liddy held the note for over a day and past many stops where she could have mailed it. It was pretty impersonal, very short and she thought, kind of pointless. But she did write something, and didn’t know how she could write more. She wanted to but couldn’t.
Liddy wanted to tell him that she wished he wasn’t going back to the war. But that was something she would never tell a man who was going to fight for his country. She wanted to blather on, thanking him for chasing down the cattle car. She wanted to tell him what the first day they met had meant to her, had done to her and how miserable and thrilled she had been since then. She wanted to explain things, ask him things about himself, about everything that had happened at Avenger, about how he felt about her. But finally, she settled on the pathetic little note that she kept reading and cringing over.
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