Cynthia Cartier - Wings

“Hall?” Trent waited for Liddy to answer. He wanted her to answer, but she didn’t. “You left your squad. You landed and you didn’t stay with the plane.” His voice and his face were so hard. Maybe it was anger, hurt or disappointment. She couldn’t read it. It never occurred to her that it might be fear. “You will not pick and choose the procedures, regulations or orders you will adhere to. Those are not your planes out there. This is not your playground. This is the Army.”

“Yes, sir,” she said it softly, averting her gaze to the window as she fought back tears.

“Maybe this isn’t the place for you.”

Liddy looked up at him. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.”

Her eyes burned and filled with tears. She lifted her chin and looked straight into his eyes. “Maybe it isn’t.” It certainly wasn’t the place she wanted to be at that moment. She wanted to be anywhere other than Avenger Field. Her heart hurt and fired up with anger, frustration and sadness all at once.

“You’re dismissed, Hall.”

Liddy grabbed the pink slip off the desk and left.

When Liddy entered the bay, the girls sat somberly on the beds, waiting for the news. She was holding the pink slip and all eyes zeroed in on it. She folded it neatly and tossed it in her locker. “Control yourself, HPs, you’re overwhelming me with your excitement.”

“Liddy, I’m sorry, this was all my fault,” said Bet. “What happened?”

“I lost my radio and instruments. I didn’t know how far I’d flown off course with the Navy boys and then my fuel clocked-out. I’m here. Am I the only one who’s happy about this ending?”

“I need you to stay here, Lid.” Bet sniffled through her raw nostrils.

Liddy sat next to Bet on the bed and wrapped her arm around Bet’s shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere. Pink really isn’t my best color you know.”

“That’s too bad, because you almost have enough of it for a nice dress,” said Joy Lynn.

The issuing of pink slips and washing-out seemed to be happening more and more frequently. Increasing difficulty of the training and the level of exhaustion were a combination that didn’t foster success. The baymates moved to the head of the class at the last graduation, but the weeks ahead looked like months to them.

“Sometimes I think washing-out would be a blessing, and then I’d get some rest.” Marina curled up on the bed.

“Give us rain,” Louise called out to the sky and she and Joy Lynn linked arms and did a rain dance up and down the bay.

“A good storm would ground us, wouldn’t it?” asked Bet.

“Maybe the Fifinella can help us out.” Marina rolled onto her back and opened the student newspaper that was lying next to her, “Says here that the ‘foot high, curled horned little Gremlin that sits on top of the archway to the base has been known to be responsible for all kinds of aid and mischief’.”

Joy Lynn grabbed the paper. “Let me see that.” Joy Lynn continued to read, “‘The little Gremlin has been seen dancing on the wing, swinging on the throttle and known to lock the rudder forward’. Goes on to say, ‘All students must carry used postage stamps to pacify the Jinx.’”

“Used postage? What a crock,” Bet scoffed.

“I don’t know, there’s gals who’ve said they’ve seen them,” Louise teased.

“Definitely better to be safe,” Joy Lynn added.

“Did you know about this?” Bet asked Liddy.

“Oh, sure,” Liddy confirmed.

Bet looked around the room. “You all knew and didn’t tell me? You carry used postage when you fly?”

“Why not,” said Louise. “Couldn’t hurt.”

“Wouldn’t go up without it,” confirmed Marina.

“Slipped deep in my back pocket every time,” said Joy Lynn.

“How much postage?” Bet asked.

“As much as possible,” said Louise.

“Anyone have extra?” Bet asked.

They all shook their heads. Bet stormed out of the room and they all howled. Liddy couldn’t keep up the farce and chased after her. Laughter slowly chugged itself out and a hush draped over the room. Marina grabbed the paper back from Joy Lynn, scanned the text and questioned Joy Lynn with her eyes. Then she rolled off the bed and she and Joy Lynn began to pillage the cancelled postage from their old mail.

The first new class, since the gals had become the seniors, arrived at Avenger and timidly walked into the rec hall. As they passed by, Liddy and Bet were perched on the back of a sofa, and Bet zeroed in on one of the new trainees and called out to her, “Welcome to HP HQ, ladies. WC and FS in the SD are a little OS. Still have to make it to the FL by ten hundred hours so don’t OV.”

The girl’s eyes got big and her forehead wrinkled up in confusion as she stumbled into the back of one of her classmates.

“OV?” Liddy questioned Bet.

Bet shrugged with a grin and Liddy shook her head at her little HP friend, and then asked her, “You’re going up for your night-fly tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“Yup.”

“Take me with you,” said Liddy.

“Why?”

“I’m practically at the bottom of the list. I’ll never get up there.”

“What’s the big deal?” Bet asked.

“I’ve never been up at night.”

“How is that possible?”

“Even if Crik had the batteries and junk to light his ships up, they couldn’t take the weight. I hadn’t talked Jerry into letting me do nights. He was on the airfield’s shitlist for letting me go up at all.”

“But it’s supposed to be a solo,” Bet said.

“I’ll just ride, hands off.”

“What if we get caught?”

“We won’t. I’ll walk out with you to do your ground check, help you with your gear and just won’t come back in.” Liddy cocked her head and smiled at Bet. “Come on, hey a lot of the other gals have done it. Carla went up with Virgie a couple nights ago,” said Liddy.

“Oh, so if they jumped off a cliff, would you?”

“No, Mother, I wouldn’t. But I would fly off a cliff in the dark with Betsy Bailey at the stick.”

“I don’t know, Liddy, you get one more pink slip, and you’re out.”

Liddy had already thought about that, but when she got her second pink slip and Trent said what he said, stubbornness kicked Doubt’s butt and took his place. Stubbornness dared Major Reid Trent to issue Liddy another pink slip. Did he have it in him to end her WASP career? Did he want her gone?

“What a way to go, don’t ya think?” Liddy raised her eyebrows at Bet.

“No, I don’t.” Bet raised her eyebrows at Liddy. “It would be a stupid way to go, I think.”

The following day turned into an exceptionally dark night. Bet was nervous about letting Liddy sneak onto her night ride, but she was more nervous about flying in the blackness alone. Knowing Liddy would be there calmed her. Liddy carried Bet’s chute as they walked out to the plane. Their eyes scanned the flight line.

Bet climbed onto the wing as a group of instructors walked by. “Here’s your pack, Bailey, have a great flight.” Liddy said and tossed Bet the chute.

“Thanks, Hall, I will.”

Bet swung her leg over the pit wall and strapped in. When it was clear, Liddy hopped onto the wing and rolled her body into the rear cockpit. She crunched down low and waited for Bet to take them up.

The plane was airborne and Liddy’s hands were stretched high as they sailed away from the flare pots that lined the runway and flew into the darkness. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful and mysterious? Have you ever been in such nothingness?”

“Liddy, keep your eyes open. This is the creeps. I don’t like wondering what might be in front of me.”

“You’re doing great. Try to enjoy yourself, HP.” Liddy leaned back in the seat and looked up at the stars. “Show me your stuff, Bailey. I wanna look at the twinklers upside down.”

“Not a chance, Liddy, this is supposed to be a straight up flight,” said Bet.

“Come on, scoot out a ways and let’s have some fun.”

“No way,” Bet refused.

“Loop,” Liddy commanded.

“No, Liddy, I’m flying it straight.”

“Loop.”

“No.”

“Then I’ll loop her.”

“Liddy, do not touch that stick!”

“Spin her.”

“No, Liddy.”

“I’ll take it then.”

“Hands off, it’s mine.”

Bet mashed down and put some space between them and the base. She tilted the stick to the right and rolled the plane over, one revolution, two revolutions and still going.

“Okay, Bet, pull back up,” said Liddy.

“I can’t!”

“You got me, Bailey, but really. You better pull out.”

“I can’t, there’s nothing in the stick, no tension, nothing!”

It felt as though the spin flattened and tossed the plane like a disk.

“I’ll take it!” Liddy yelled.

“No!”

Liddy watched the altimeter drop as the plane kept spinning. “Bet, let me take it!”

“No!”

Without grabbing it, Liddy gave the stick a bat back and forth and could feel no resistance. Her stomach and her head were feeling the spin and she heard a whisper, ‘Mashed potatoes, mashed potatoes.” And she called out to Bet, “Bet, listen to me, whip the stick around like crazy, like you’re beating a bowl of mashed potatoes.”

“What?”

“Crank the stick like you’re mashing a big bowl of potatoes.” Liddy watched the altimeter drop and screamed at Bet, “Do it, Bet, and do it now or I will!”

Bet gripped the stick and swung it furiously around again and again.

Liddy’s pores leached sweat and heated as it bathed her fiery hot skin and the plane continued to fall. Suddenly, a jolt rocked the plane as it caught air and the stick began to respond. Bet leveled out and pulled back up to get some altitude.

Liddy collapsed back into the seat. “What do you know, thanks, Crik!”

Once on the ground, Bet snapped off her belt and flipped out of the cockpit like it was on fire. She didn’t wait for Liddy and bounded back to the bay. Liddy was double-timing it to keep up with Bet’s 5′ 2″ stride.

“You did great, Bet!”

Bet’s expressionless face was beet red. She ignored Liddy and stomped on. Liddy hopped out in front of her, but Bet sidestepped her.

“Hold up, would ya?” Liddy tried to catch Bet by the arm.

Bet pulled away from Liddy, stopped and faced her. “If you hadn’t been up there, I would have flown it straight. I was supposed to fly it straight.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have let us crash, you know that.”

“Crash, you wouldn’t have let us crash? Do you know what happened up there, because I don’t? I rolled it over slow. What happened?”

Bet burst into tears and collapsed against Liddy’s chest and Liddy held her.

“What happened?” Bet cried.

“I don’t know,” Liddy conceded.

Bet sobbed for a while then she pulled away from Liddy and ran back to the bays.

With so many trainees and all at different phases and points in their flight schedules, some information came a little later than needed, sometimes just a day late. The day after Bet and Liddy stalled during Bet’s night-fly, Captain Charles was covering spins and stalls in ground school, “…Another reason for an unintentional spin or stall could be added weight, which you need to compensate for during any rotation. This applies to cargo, passengers and night-fly equipment.”

Liddy looked over at Bet who returned a look of anger. She wasn’t sure if Bet would ever forgive her, and she didn’t know that she would ever forgive herself. Of all the people to put in that position, Bet didn’t need the negative experience in the air. Flying under the bridge at home was a risk she’d chosen, but she had never put anyone else at risk. Wanting to take back something you’ve done is such a heavy weight. Liddy knew she couldn’t turn back the clock, but she could fly by the book and she was determined that’s what she was going to do.

Louise and the girls sensed something had happened. But neither Bet nor Liddy talked about it, and the soul of the bay was fractured. When the next buddy flight rolled around, Bet Bailey had still not forgiven Liddy Hall.

Trainees were spread out on the floor of the ready room checking maps. Instructor Rick Strom entered and called out the drill, “Listen up. This buddy trip is an instrument flight. The lead is to follow the course that the buddy pilot lays out. You will not land until you get back to base. You will be graded on time and record of landmarks. Look around, trainees. Your class is getting smaller every week. Many of you are one U from packing your bags. Your next instrument flight will be an Army checkride, so use your time well today. Shoenfeld, Campbell fall-out. Bailey, Hall fall-out.”