Liddy turned her head from Jenna and bit down hard on her lip.

“It could happen to any one of us. You know that.” Jenna continued.

“Some male pilot messed up that plane, but he doesn’t test it. No, he’s not expendable. Well, neither was she.” Liddy clenched her teeth and her jaw flexed.

“Liddy, these things happen. It’s going to happen. We do what we do to serve. We’re taking a risk every time we go up.”

“You know why Bet was up there?” Liddy’s eyes filled with tears. “Because I pushed and encouraged her. I told her it was all worth it and that she could do it.”

“And she did it. That crash wasn’t her fault. She was a damn good pilot. And she wanted to be flying for her country, just like the rest of us.”

“Listen, I’m here for myself, got it. Not for the WASP, or the war. Myself, that’s why I’m here and that’s why I’m leaving, for myself.”


Liddy’s suitcase was packed and laid open on her bed. She looked out the window. In the distance the moonlight bounced off the shiny planes lined up in a perfect row on the flight line, and she couldn’t bear the sight of them.

The radio dispensed the last note of Who Wouldn’t Love You that floated into a brief silence before a news report broke in with a crackle, “This is David Carson reporting live from KYO Radio, Delaware. We’ve just received an official wire with the war’s latest casualty estimates. Over 200,000 Americans have been killed in the campaign to defeat Hitler. As the United States calls on more and more of its brave soldiers to continue this fight, let us all pray for a swift end to this human devastation—”

Liddy picked up the radio and threw it across the room, then fell onto the bed and broke down into a flood of tears. Jack approved of a tough skin on Liddy, and she hadn’t ever really cried, not sobbed, not even when her mother had died. But in that moment, years of tears flushed out of her like a dam break. She cried for the little Liddy who lost her mother, and for Jack. She screamed out for Bet and buried her face in a pillow when she sobbed Reid’s name. She cried for Daniel and for the hundreds of thousands of men whose mamas and daddies and sweeties were crying too.

Emptiness consumed Liddy. Sadness weighted her down onto the bed. She had lost her way and she had no strength or desire to find it. Liddy’s head pounded with pain and her mind blackened, until she finally fell asleep.


Liddy knocked on the door of the Base Commander.

“Come In.”

She walked into the office and stood in front of the desk. “Sir, I’m WASP pilot, Liddy Hall.”

“Yes, Hall, what can I do for you?”

“Sir, I’d like to request leave to take care of a personal matter.”


A hearse wound its way through the cemetery and a line of cars followed and then parked behind it. A black shrouded procession left the vehicles and grew as it approached the freshly dug grave.

The Santiago Blue of the WASP uniforms stood out among the mourners. Liddy, Louise, Marina, Joy Lynn and Calli, who cradled her baby boy, followed behind Bet’s family. Bet’s brothers held up their mother by her elbows as her feet took weak steps but mostly dragged through the grass. Mr. Bailey shuffled along and hadn’t uttered a word all morning, but every once in a while a little moan echoed in his throat.

The polished cherry wood coffin was carried to the graveside. An American flag the sister-friends had bought was draped over the top. Liddy was glad she had already given away her grief, now she filled her mind with the tilt of Bet’s head when she didn’t get a joke and how her tight red curls would bounce when she did. She saw the dance of her beautiful blue cat eyes when she bopped around after a great run in the sky or when she did the Bet dance. It was a smile that pushed tears onto Liddy’s cheeks.

The minister stood at the foot of the coffin and led Bet’s family and friends into the journey of letting go, a journey that never really has an end. After two of Bet’s brothers sang The Old Rugged Cross, the minister concluded the service by reading from the scriptures. His voice was joined by the sobs of Mrs. Bailey as he finished, “… My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” He closed the Bible and offered up a communal farewell, “Treasured daughter, sister and friend, Betsy Ann Bailey served her country bravely even into death. This dear child has returned to you, Father. Comfort all who love her and keep the flame of her spirit alive.”

The baymates hadn’t all been together since Avenger, but the pain was too raw for them to have joy in a reunion, so they parted after the funeral and went their separate ways. As time went on, though, they made a point of telling Bet stories to each other and anyone else who would listen. The distance that death had put between them and Bet grew to compare with the miles that kept them apart as they fulfilled their WASP duties. Eventually it was as if Bet was just a plane ride away.

Eleanor Roosevelt said, ‘Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints on your heart.’ When they were able to visit with one another, the women brought Bet along and laughed like they did back in their training days. Their hearts had been imprinted and they would be knit in this world and the next.

Liddy returned to New Castle and flew for her country. Sitting in the cockpit after Bet’s death, she ran through her check and stopped before she said it and thought about whether she would. But it had to be a good day to die, she knew that, otherwise she wouldn’t be free. And she had to be free. She had to live without fear. To live was to fly. So she said it and then rolled down the runway.

The months of flying filled her with purpose, but her heart had some room. She picked up her mail less and less often. When she did, part of her still hoped to see a letter from Reid, while the other part had let him rest with Bet.

Jenna had written to Ellis and asked if he had heard any news of Reid. When she received an answer back, she waited until a two day leave to tell Liddy what he’d said. Major Reid Trent had been shot down over the Nazi controlled countryside in France. What was left of his squadron confirmed that he hadn’t chuted out. The plane was behind the German line, so it couldn’t be recovered, but the crash site could be seen from the air and was burned to the frame.

When she received a bundle of letters in her handwriting to Reid, stamped deceased, both sides of Liddy let him rest. She quietly reconciled her spirit to the unbearable wreckage that life can offer up.

Liddy wished she knew Reid’s family and could tell them how sorry she was. She wanted them to know how much he meant to her and that she meant something to him and wanted them to be sorry for her too. Liddy wanted someone to know what they meant to each other, but no one really knew. It was all letters. Letters and talks with Louise. Only she and Reid knew. No one had seen it or felt it but them.

She hadn’t answered Louise’s last three letters, so she sat down to cement the reality of it all—the reality that something almost was, but now it wasn’t, and it was really over.

June 27, 1944

Dear Louie,

How are you? How are the Prince and Princess? Did they enjoy their trip to the Grand Canyon with your parents? Tell them I said hi and that I love them. Sorry I haven’t written in awhile. Louie, he’s gone. Reid was shot down in March and he’s dead. I kept hoping, but he’s gone. I can’t talk about it more than that right now, but I’ll write more later. I promise.

I’m okay, really. Please, please don’t worry. I’ll write soon.

Love Liddy

It took over a half an hour to get out the few lines and Liddy’s tears had soaked the paper. She tore off another sheet from her writing tablet and rewrote it so that Louise might believe she was really okay.


It was a sunny October afternoon when Liddy returned from a Ferry mission and reported to the ready room where it seemed every WASP at New Castle was in the room and red-faced. In hushed tones, they shouted to one another and some of them just sat and cried.

Liddy spotted Jenna who was in a heated discussion with Teresa Hinton and some other WASPs. She didn’t want to ask, but forced herself and walked over and interrupted the group, “What now?”

“We’ve been deactivated,” said Jenna.

“What?”

“It’s over. They’ve sent us packing,” said Teresa.

“But the war’s still on,” said Liddy.

“Doesn’t matter, December twentieth, at midnight it’s over.” Jenna looked at Liddy with tear-filled eyes. “Pack your bags, Hall.”

“But why?” Liddy asked.

“Who knows, politics, public opinion that wants to put us back in our place. There’s been a line of people waiting for us to fail. Guess they got tired of waiting.” Jenna tore a flight map in two and let it fall to the floor.

Liddy couldn’t make the words fall into place in her head, and the disbelief mixed into an irrational concoction that rolled and bubbled inside her. A smile drew itself across her face as a muffled chuckle forced into the air and soon it was followed by an all out roar.

The room fell silent except for Liddy’s howl. The women watched her face cover with tears as she laughed and cried with her whole body. “They’re discharging us and we were never charged. All this time, I was waiting for militarization, to be the real deal. It never occurred to me they’d end it, altogether end it. Why’d they bother even training us?” Liddy’s voice vibrated with the laughter.