“What’d ya get?” Louise asked.

Bet tossed the box on the bed and pulled out a bra, panties, slip and stockings. “Mustn’t graduate without new ones.”

“From a beau?” asked Liddy.

“Liddy,” Bet scolded with a blush. “No, my mom brought them. The folks got in last night. They’ve decided this is an amazing thing I’ve done. They’re very proud.”

“And we whole-heartedly agree with your folks. Don’t we, Louie?”

“You betcha!”

Joy Lynn and Marina entered with the latest news dripping from their lips. “Two more instructors have been drafted—Nash and Strom. They’re shipping out the week after graduation,” Marina reported.

“Captain Charles and Major Trent are being shipped out too,” Joy Lynn added, while she kicked off her shoes and sent them flying with a thud into the wall.

Louise looked at Liddy, who turned away. It would soon be over. She would leave and he would leave, and the wonderings, the frustration, the yearning would fade. Liddy looked forward to it. She wanted to be free of it. She was tired and drained. She wanted him out of her heart, and her mind and her sight. Soon it would be done.]


The soul of Avenger Field always soared on graduation day. All the classes got a day off from training and they would all be part of the celebration. Family and friends arrived and there wasn’t a zoot suit in sight, which gave the impression to the visitors that the base was a kind of dusty resort.

The senior class gathered at the ceremony area before breakfast. Captain Charles was working hard to get the gals to line up for their second run-through and was losing his patience. The women giggled and goofed.

“For such a competent group of flyers you women are acting like damn fools,” Charles barked, “Let’s start back at the beginning and let’s make it military this time.”

A trainee climbed the steps to the platform and handed Charles a note. He read it and called out, “Hall, report to the admin.”

Bet looked wide-eyed at Liddy. “What’d you do?”

“Nothing, I didn’t do anything.”

Marina grabbed her shirt sleeve. “What didn’t you do then?”

When Liddy arrived at the administration building, she was directed to Major Trent’s office. As she walked down the hall, a rumble of panic trickled down her spine. She always had some idea why she was being called down—she didn’t like surprises. When she knocked on the open door of the office, Trent looked up and saw Liddy standing in the doorway and hesitated before he spoke, “Come in, Miss Hall.”

Liddy walked in the room and stood half-way between the desk and the wall, she didn’t want to be too close to the blast. It was usually was more of a stern, controlled gale but it still felt like a blast to her. Trent left his seat, shut the door and walked over to where Liddy was standing. He set himself so close to her that she could hear him breathe, and he handed her an envelope.

“What’s this?” Liddy looked up at him.

“A telegram.”

Liddy turned the envelope over and walked past Trent to the corner of the desk. She slowly removed the paper, unfolded it, and read: We regret to inform you of the passing of…. Liddy’s hands trembled and increased with each word she digested. She muttered to herself, “I just talked to him on the phone two days ago, he seemed fine.” But did he really? Liddy asked herself. And she tried to remember all his words and how his voice sounded. As she re-read each line again, she became light-headed and nauseous and she steadied herself on the desk. The paper slipped from her hand and floated to the floor.

Trent moved behind Liddy and spoke softly, “The front office got a call from your uncle. The hospital wasn’t able to reach him before they sent you the wire. He’d like you to call him. He left a number where you can reach him.” He reached over to touch the tips of her fingers. “I’m so sorry, Liddy. I’ve spoken with Palm Springs. You can start your ten day leave immediately. Take as much time as you need, and then report to your assignment when you’re ready.”

Liddy widened her eyes and blinked to fight back the tears. She walked to the door and turned to face the Major. “My father would want me to be at my graduation. It was important to him. All of this was really important to him.”

“He must have been very proud of you.”

“He was.”

“If there is anything we can do—”

“There isn’t anything the Army can do. I’m not enlisted, don’t forget. Not military. I’m on my own.”

“I meant…” Trent hesitated.

“What? You meant what?” Liddy looked at Trent with a vacancy. The luster was gone from her eyes and she stared at him with a sadness that made him feel powerless. He couldn’t comfort her the way he wanted to, and the frustration made his whole body tense.

Liddy turned again and left the office. Trent shut the door, walked over to pick up the telegram from the floor and slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket.


Enthusiasm is contagious when you want to be infected, but when you don’t it will scrape your spirit like sandpaper. Liddy kept her pain to herself and didn’t tell her friends, not even Louise, of her loss that day. She stretched a big smile and followed any lead to joke and laugh. They had all worked so hard for this day and Liddy didn’t want to put one ounce of damper on it. But even through the pain, the day was one of purpose and a quiet joy bathed Liddy. She imagined Jack walking effortlessly and flying again. And she wondered if he would be able to watch the whole deal, which he wouldn’t have been able to do from his hospital bed. What a kick he would get out of it all.

As they prepared for their graduation ceremony, great attention was given to make-up, hair and the proper button and tuck of their new WASP duds. The mirror was giddy over the attention it was getting, and everyone lined up for a turn at Marina’s paint bag.

Forty-one women, almost half the number that began with their class, still remained and the survivors assembled outside the barracks to march to the line. As they paraded around the primary hanger, the graduates could see row after row of WASP trainees set in columns in front of the planes on the line. All wore their crisp white shirts, general’s pants and overseas caps. The planes were also decked out and paid tribute to the graduates. Parked in perfect rows and standing at attention in all their shiny goodness, the planes honored the graduates as well.

Wrapped up in their Santiago Blues, the graduating class marched silently. All that could be heard was the tap of their heels until they reached the underclasswomen who were waiting for them. The trainees sang out with the words of the graduate’s own song as they passed, “There goes the HPs of Avenger Field. Wings of silver will be their shield. Watch them fly you’ll know it’s true. They are the queens of the open blue. So take note all you recruits. If you wanna be tops then follow suit.”

The chorus got louder as each class fell into the procession behind the graduates. The tribute filled the soon-to-be Women Airforce Service Pilots with tremendous pride. “Then you’ll be an HP of Avenger Field. Wings of silver will be your shield. At the end of the war—you’ll be part of the great WASP lore. There goes the HPs of Avenger Field. Wings of silver will be their shield.”

Mr. and Mrs. Bailey were at the edge of their seats, waving enthusiastically as their daughter marched by the audience. Calli sat with Joy Lynn’s family, and she cradled her swollen belly in her arms.

The Calbert Clan was a noisy and jolly bunch. Mama and Daddy Calbert, Joy Lynn’s four younger sisters, aunts, uncles and a few cousins—a full Southern brigade was there to cheer on their Joy Lynn. The hair was high and the hats were big. Pretty silver flasks were safely tucked in pockets and purses, and clearly they had already been tilted a few times. It was easy to see they were Joy Lynn’s people. Uncle Geoffrey was there—yes, Uncle Pastel Puffy. He flitted about in a striped silk suit that was touched off with a bright violet satin vest and tie. A flowered silk hanky draped neatly from his breast pocket. Liddy had never seen such beautiful clothes on a man.

The new senior class took their place at the head of the formation, which signaled the graduates that they were no longer trainees. The women sat reverently in the front rows, listening to Colonel Wate gush over them from the podium. Finally, he said the words they were all waiting to hear, “Graduates, will you please stand to receive your wings.”

Those glorious words broke the formality that had its grip on the women, and the women wore a sea of smiles. With a respectable military clip, the graduates rose from their seats and filed out and up to the platform. Captain Charles called each name and the women crossed the stage to shake Colonel Wate’s hand. He had a word of praise or encouragement for every graduate, and genuine happiness glowed on his rosy cheeks. The graduates then stepped to Major Trent to receive their wings.

“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.”