Cynthia Cartier - Wings

In a cargo plane, the women were taken to the North American factory in Columbus.

P-51 Mustangs were picked-up and Liddy couldn’t get over how Jenna and the other gals were so cool about the ships. Strapped in for the twenty-four hundred mile flight to Travis Air Force Base in San Francisco, the women took off like they were the queens of the air.

The temperatures rose and fell as they crossed the country, but the sky was clear and it was as though the heavens had laid out a carpet for Liddy. As the ferry formation flew over the Rocky Mountains, she marveled at the mass of the range. It was covered with snow, but the granite broke through here and there and it was all set against an icicle-blue sky. Liddy had never seen a landscape that held such power.

She was startled when she heard Jenna’s voice over the radio, “Hey, WASP Liddy Hall, wait for us would ya’?”

Liddy hadn’t realized she had tapped-in and gotten ahead of the others. “Oh, boy, sorry. Guess I’m just a little bit jazzed. Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Yes it is.” Jenna smiled at the delight in Liddy’s voice. “Enjoy the view, but let’s keep it tight up here.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Liddy teased.

When the WASP arrived at their refuel, they exploded from the cockpits as soon as the planes rolled to a stop and made a mad dash toward the buildings.

Two enlisted men watched the scene and one of them asked the other, “Where’s the fire?”

Every day that followed was a series of transports, pick-ups and deliveries. Flying as a WASP in the military was like being a pioneer in a new land. Liddy knew what they were doing was important for the war, but it was also important for the country and all her American sisters. The war was tearing away at the boundaries that had kept women and minorities from living bigger than the culture had been comfortable with.

Women were working in ever-increasing numbers, doing factory work that was oftentimes dirty and dangerous. Old ways were being tested and the results couldn’t be denied. Women were capable and it was now on the record. Whatever happened after the war, steps had been taken forward. Still, constantly on the minds of those in the march was the lingering hope that the steps forward would not be taken backwards in the future.

Beat-up Warhawks were delivered by the WASPs to Tuskegee Army Air Field in Alabama. Liddy hopped down from the pit and reflected on the times she was living in. As she walked across the TAAF, she looked into the faces of some of the first black men who would fly for the Army. The men looked at the WASPs, and the trailblazers acknowledged one another with a nod and a smile.

Liddy wished the planes they had brought to these men didn’t have so many miles on them and were not in such a worn state. But flying planes other male pilots didn’t want to fly, or in some cases refused to fly, was just one of the things a WASP had in common with a Tuskegee Airman. And the WASPs had a lot in common with these men.

Both had to deal with the opinions of people who didn’t think they were either smart enough or brave enough to be military pilots. Both had to deal with prejudice, but these men dealt with the prejudice every day, in every corner of their lives—not in the air, though. There they would be free and Liddy was happy they had that chance.

One qualified black female pilot did apply to the WASP program. Jackie Cochran interviewed her and explained that a great deal of opposition faced the idea of women flying for the military. Cochran didn’t deny her entry, but the woman graciously withdrew her application, rather than bring more scrutiny on the program.

It would take over thirty-five years for the landscape to begin to level for all Americans. It would always be a teeter-totter, though. It’s a weakness of humankind to want to be on the top of the pile and many people don’t hesitate to step on others in order to stay there.

When they were in Alabama, Liddy and Jenna saw Bet. Liddy liked how Jenna took Bet under her wing. Anything could happen and she knew the little HP couldn’t have too many mother hens. It seemed Liddy and Jenna were more alike than they were different and the two women got on pretty well. But it was still Louise who Liddy confided in.

Every once in a while Jenna would drop some information about Reid from the letters Captain Ellis Charles, now Jenna’s husband, sent to her. The two men had been friends since basic and had flown two tours together abroad. Although they flew in different fighter squadrons now, they were both in Europe somewhere and crossed paths frequently.

Jenna didn’t know anymore than Liddy did about the missions they flew. A husband wouldn’t want his wife to take on that worry, but she would share when Ellis wrote about seeing one of the officers or instructors that she and Liddy had known at Avenger. Liddy tried not to show extra interest when Reid was mentioned. She didn’t know exactly what they were to each other, and didn’t want to discuss it with anyone but Louise.

On one of their ferry runs, Liddy and Jenna stayed in California and spent a three day leave with Marina. Joy Lynn flew in and a big party was thrown. The great Jenna Law mixed right in with the crude and proper sisters, but like Liddy, Jenna couldn’t keep up with them either. “I don’t know how your bay made it to graduation.” Jenna said to Liddy as they flew home after the weekend.

“Sometimes I don’t either.” Liddy chuckled. “It must have been the will of the sky gods, I guess.”

“Or the Fifinella.” Jenna laughed.

Liddy was being flown out with two other WASPs to move three AT-6s from one training base to another. She scribbled frantically to finish the letter she was writing to Reid when the assignment officer called out to her, “Hall, let’s go.”

Liddy folded the letter, stuffed and licked it, then asked Teresa Hinton. “Hey, drop this for me, will you?”

Teresa took the letter and read the address, “Major Reidburn Trent, what’s the story, Hall?”

“Just drop it, please,” Liddy pleaded as she rushed out the door.

The women climbed into planes and out of planes, then into bed and out of bed and sometimes they were so exhausted they didn’t know which was which.

Liddy and Jenna were standing in line to receive their mail and Liddy asked, “Hey, Law—sorry, I mean Charles, in the letters you wrote, you never wrote about this pace. We’ve averaged four to five flights a day or cross countries since I got here. Avenger’s looking pretty sweet.”

“Can’t compare most of these ships to the beat-up buckets we trained on, though. We’re part of it now, Liddy Hall.”

Liddy took her mail from the clerk and walked to the corner of the room to sort through it. Jenna snuck-up behind her and stole it away. She flipped through the letters and read the return addresses, “Woman’s writing, woman’s writing, definitely a man’s writing.” Jenna held the letter up to the light and grinned.

Liddy calmly took the envelope back and turned it over to read the address. It wasn’t from Reid and Liddy’s disappointment washed over her face.

“Not from Major Trent?” Jenna returned the other letters to Liddy who looked back at her with questioning eyes. “Hinton told me she posted a letter for you addressed to a ‘Major Reidburn Trent’. Let me ask you something. The night I graduated, you seemed surprised and then thrilled when I told you I was engaged to Ellis. Did you think it was Reid I was marrying?”

Liddy tightened her mouth to one side and offered Jenna a weak admission.

“How did this come about? The two of you must have been really sneaky.”

“It wasn’t like that. We started writing letters after I graduated. That’s all.”

“That’s all, is it? Does Ellis know about this?”

“I don’t know.”

“If he does, and he didn’t tell me, he’s gonna get an earful.”

“If you need to talk to Ellis, fine, but don’t spread it around, okay?”

“What are you hiding from? You’re not a trainee anymore. He’s an officer, you’re an officer. It’s… what does Bet Bailey say? It’s ‘Open Season’.”

“They’re just letters. Please, Jenna.”

“Okay, Hall, I’ll keep it quiet.”

Liddy wasn’t sure if she would or wouldn’t, but it was out of her control. She took her mail back to her quarters and sat up against the wall on her bed and slit open a letter from Daniel:

March 11, 1944

Dear Liddy,

How are you? Sounds like you’re getting to fly your dream planes. I was thinking the other day that I might be flying a plane that you moved from the factory before it got shipped over here. I like that thought.

Things are a little crazy here. It seems we just get back in and we’re sent out again. I’m flying bomber escort. We lost two last week. I get really scared sometimes. I want to talk to you in person. I want you to make me feel as invincible as you are. So I do the next best thing. I pretend you’re pitted right behind me and giving me what for and that keeps me on my toes. It’s always a good day to die, right?

A lot of guys are having battle dreams. No one says so, but you hear them in the night. I keep having this dream about an endless line of smelly old ladies stretched out like a river across Crik’s field, and they’re throwing tomatoes at me.

Liddy laughed and cleared the moisture from her eyes and then closed them and looked for Daniel’s face. Before she continued reading, she prayed for him.

What do you think it means? It kind of bothers me, but I’ll take it over the other.

When the infantry guys come through the camp, we hear stories of what they’re seeing on the ground. Train cars filled with piles of bodies that are wasted to just skin over bone and filthy concentration camps that are filled with the barely living and more dead. I’m glad I’m in the air.

Thanks for the letters they always take my mind off things. Celia’s having a hard time with me being over here, and her letters are always pretty sad.

Holly Grove seems a lifetime away. I hope to meet you there again soon,

Daniel.

Liddy put the letter back in its envelope and placed it in the side table next to her bed. Before closing the drawer, she took out a stack of letters tied with string. She ran her fingers over the return address and then removed the last one she had received over three weeks earlier and read it:

February 27^th, 1944

Dear Liddy,

How are you? Thank you for the picture I asked for. You look very serious in your uniform, but if I study your face I can see the truth. It’s my favorite face by the way.

My squadron will be moving in a few days, so it shouldn’t be as cold. I’ll be glad to have a break from this air that seems to be made of ice. I’ve tried to think warm thoughts, like walking on the warm sand and feeling warm salt water wash over my feet. I spent much of my childhood in the water, and surprised most everyone who knew me when I didn’t choose the Navy.

Every birthday that I remember, until I joined the Army when I was eighteen, started with being tossed in the waves and ended by a fire that sat in a bowl dug out of the sand. My mother would pack enough food for a week and my dad, brothers and I would eat it all. There were always sparkler sticks in cupcakes after dark.

I’d like to show you the Atlantic Ocean and my birthday beach when I come home. And I’d like you to fly me over the Rockies. The way you described it I felt as though I had never seen them before, and I thought I should take another look.

We ship out to come home the first week in April. Where should we meet?

Be safe and I’ll see you soon, Reid

Liddy curled up on the bed and pressed all of the letters to her belly. How many letters had she written to Reid without getting one back? Was it twelve, fifteen? She wished she had kept track—No, she didn’t want to know. The first week that had gone by without a letter from Reid, Liddy started writing more often. It was as if she was writing for both of them or that she was afraid if she didn’t write it would all disappear, he would disappear. She tried desperately to clear her mind, but couldn’t, and she wished she was flying.

The shuffle of boot soles and heels on the linoleum brushed and clicked. Liddy could feel the impatience running through the line that was stacking up behind her, waiting for the phone. She held the phone to her ear and cherished the sound of Bet’s voice.