Lady Flyer, page 21
“I agree,” Cochran said, although her expression exposed that she was holding back many comments.
“Great,” Olds said with a conciliatory grin toward both women. “I’ll draft up a proposal to General Arnold by the end of the day. I’d like each of you to review it.”
By the time Nancy left the office, she’d had enough of clashing personalities. Both she and Cochran wanted essentially the same thing—for women to be given a chance to fly in service for the country, in one way or another—but Cochran was trying to leap over hoops that still had to be walked through, which meant that everything was at a stall, and no women were ferrying in the first place.
When Nancy entered the lobby and saw Bob waiting for her, she crossed to him and gave him a tight hug.
His arms came around her, and he murmured, “That bad?”
She didn’t answer for a moment, then finally, she drew away. “It ended well, I think. We’ll find out when General Arnold approves our proposal. But I’m starving. Think you could feed me?”
Bob kissed the top of her head. “Come on, Mrs. Love, let’s get you something to eat, and you can tell me all about your day.”
As they walked to a nearby restaurant in the muggy heat, Nancy decided that whatever happened to the proposal, she’d be grateful for this moment, right now. Grateful for her husband. Grateful for her parents. Grateful that her country wasn’t under threat of bombing. Grateful that she had talents she could hopefully one day use in better service.
The days of waiting turned into weeks of waiting, and it wasn’t until August that she finally heard from Olds.
When she answered the phone at the Inter City office, she sighed with relief when Olds said, “Mrs. Love? It’s Robert Olds.”
He could only be calling about the outcome of the proposal. “If you’re being this formal, I assume the news is bad?”
Olds’s too-long pause made Nancy’s stomach sink to her toes.
“General Arnold turned down our proposal,” Olds said in a rush. “Although, he left the door open for women pilots in the future—if things change.”
“Like what things?” she asked. “After America enters the war? Then it will be too late.”
“I’m frustrated too,” he said. “But General Arnold claims he has plenty of men, and they don’t have use or room for female pilots.”
Nancy closed her eyes and released a slow exhale. “What else?”
Olds seemed to hesitate. “He’s questioning whether a woman could handle an Army plane.”
Nancy’s eyes popped open. “That’s exactly why we proposed training now.”
“Right.”
“You don’t agree with General Arnold, do you?” She had to ask, even though she hoped she knew the answer already.
“I wouldn’t be working on this if I agreed with General Arnold,” Olds said firmly. “I know there are a lot of factors at play here, but I’m not giving up.”
“I’m not either.” She moved to her feet and paced the office. “What did Cochran say?”
“She didn’t seem too surprised, actually. In fact, she’s putting together a group of women to take over to England to join the ATA women’s ferrying group.”
“How many?”
“She’s estimating she’ll have twenty-five women confirm.”
If that many female pilots went over to England, it would deplete the American pool should Arnold find reasons to let them join Olds’s Ferrying Program. “All right, sir. Thanks for the phone call. I’m going to let a few others know, and then we’ll keep preparing and waiting.”
“You’re a good sport,” Olds said. “Thank you for everything.”
“Thank you.”
Her first phone call was to Bob, who was on a business trip to meet with potential clients. He listened to the entire story, then said, “I know this feels like a setback, sweetie. But it’s only a matter of time. I can feel it.”
Nancy went quiet, mollified. It might seem strange, but she felt it too. “I believe that, too, Bob, but it’s hard when the setbacks continue.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“With confidence in our armed forces with the unbounding determination of our people we will gain the inevitable triumph so help us God. I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese Empire.”
—President Franklin D. Roosevelt, “A Date Which Will Live in Infamy” speech delivered to US Congress on December 8, 1941
December 1941–March 1942—Inter City, Boston
Nancy’s rare quiet Sunday at home was interrupted when her phone rang.
“Nancy,” Bob said in a rough tone. “Are you listening to the radio?”
“I’ve had it off for a couple of hours,” Nancy said, crossing to the radio and twisting the knob. “What’s going on?”
If Bob answered, she didn’t hear it because the radio host’s voice filled the small kitchen. “The White House has just announced that all naval and military activities on the principal island of Oahu in Hawaii have been attacked from the air by planes that bear the mark of the rising sun.”
“Japan,” Nancy whispered into the phone. “Is this real?”
“It’s real,” Bob said. “I’m coming home. This changes everything.”
Nancy might have said goodbye and hung up, but she had no memory of it. At some point, Bob called again. Said that he was being sent from Houlton to Washington, DC. He didn’t know when yet. Nancy felt numb at the news—she wanted her husband with her, but she also understood that he was needed elsewhere.
Every minute, the news grew worse. Pearl Harbor was in flames. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of people were dead. It was impossible to fully comprehend. Even as the news flooded in, overwhelming with details of mass destruction, Nancy couldn’t help but think of the pilots who had died. And those they’d left behind. The military personnel and civilians running for cover. The explosions and flames and smoke.
Someone called, and the phone rang multiple times before it finally snapped her out of her numbness.
“Nance?” her father said when she picked up.
The tears started then. “I’m here,” she said on a choked sob. “Bob’s heading to Washington, DC, in the next day or two.”
“Do you want to come home for a few days?”
That, Nancy knew, wasn’t an option. “I need to watch over Inter City. I don’t know what will happen, but it’s better I’m here.”
After speaking with both of her parents, she called a few friends.
It seemed that no one knew what to say. The heaviness of her heart was palpable, compressing, until that weight made her feel suffocated. Hours before, their entire nation had fallen to its knees.
Nancy knew that nothing would ever be the same again. The United States would no longer be playing a sidelined, supportive role in this war. No, their country was at war. And their boys would be going into combat as an American force.
In the late afternoon, Nancy arrived at Inter City. She stood just outside the hangar, beneath the gray winter sky. She watched and listened, as if she could see a Japanese bomber or hear a war plane. But time seemed to hover, neither moving forward nor backward, and all was quiet in the skies above her portion of the world.
She tried to imagine the beauty of the island of Oahu, the blue skies, the tropical foliage, the warm ocean breeze, and the turquoise sea . . . now shattered by death and terror. Burning ships, burning planes, craters of dug-out earth. Sirens . . .
She felt so far away. So helpless. Reading about the war in Europe had been surreal enough. But now . . . She and Bob knew pilots who were stationed at Pearl Harbor, including Cornelia Fort, who was a civilian flight instructor on Oahu. Cornelia was a woman Nancy hoped would join the Ferrying Division if women were ever allowed to become a part of it.
The war news came flooding in, dominating all radio channels.
From a distance, Nancy heard the office phone ringing. With hurried footsteps, she headed inside to answer.
“Inter City,” her voice rasped.
“Mrs. Love, it’s Robert Olds. I hate to call you on a day like today.”
“No one could have predicted this.”
“You know what it means for you, right?”
Nancy moved toward the office window and peered out at the airfield. “I do, and I’m ready.”
“I thought you’d say that.” His voice held no excitement though. Not after such a terrible event. He sounded exhausted, depleted. “Things are going to be happening very fast, and I need to know who my key people are. Decisions are being made every second.”
“You can count on me,” Nancy said, although her emotions were wrung out. “I never wanted this day to come—at least not like this.”
“None of us did.” Olds paused. “But we’re going to put a stop to this war. Too much has been lost, and now, we’re finally going to act. Canada has already declared war on Japan.”
Nancy had listened to the broadcast of how the Japanese had bombed the British colony of Hong Kong only hours after leaving Hawaii in shambles.
“Is it true that Roosevelt is going to declare war on Japan tomorrow?”
“Yes, Roosevelt will get the declaration through the Senate and the House. Winston Churchill will be doing it almost immediately, so he’ll beat us to it.”
Nancy had read about Churchill saying he’d declare war on any nation who attacked the United States. Now that was all happening.
After hanging up with Olds, she called Bob, her mind reeling as she told him about the phone call.
“I’m leaving Houlton and coming home now,” Bob said first thing. “I don’t know where we’ll end up or what will happen to Inter City, but I want to be with you while we figure all this out.”
Nancy’s eyes pricked with tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.
As the sun set on one of the most horrific days in anyone’s memory, Nancy waited for Bob’s plane to taxi into the hangar. As he climbed out of the cockpit, she could see the violet circles beneath his eyes, likely matching her own. His uniform had a more significant meaning now, a sight that made her both proud and fearful.
He swept her into his arms, and she clung fiercely to him.
“What’s going to happen to all of us, Bob?” she whispered.
“I don’t know, sweetie,” he said against her ear. “But we’re going to end this war, one way or another. We’ll give it everything we’ve got.”
Nancy nodded against his neck, breathing in his clean soap scent, wishing she wouldn’t have to release him. Wishing she could turn back time to when life had been routine and settled, before Hitler had invaded Poland . . .
“All airfields and airline companies within fifty miles of the coastline are being shut down,” Bob said.
Nancy drew back and stared at her husband. “That includes Inter City.”
“Yes.” He grasped her hands. “Colonel Olds will be calling tomorrow to give us our orders.”
Her breathing shortened. Everything was changing, in both of their lives, in all of America.
The following day, she and Bob held hands in the Inter City office as Olds informed them that Bob’s new assignment would be in Washington, DC. He’d work for the Ferrying Command from there, so they’d have to move for the duration.
“We need you around, too, Nancy,” Olds said, his tone determined. “We’ll find you something, which means you’ll be in place for the Women’s Ferrying Program when it comes to fruition.”
Nancy heard the optimism in his voice, and her heart mirrored that.
After hanging up with Olds, Bob looked at her. “Well? Are you ready to move?”
“I’ll be ready,” Nancy said. This was no time for taking things slow. “I just need to process all of this.” They would be closing Inter City Aviation for the time being. Bob was certainly putting on a brave face with all these changes.
He squeezed her hand, then kissed her temple.
Nancy called her parents to tell them the latest news. Then she turned on the radio.
Leaning against Bob’s shoulder, they listened to the incoming news, the reports from around the world reverberating against one another like dominos.
Winston Churchill had declared war on Japan.
That day, at 12:30 p.m., President Roosevelt’s declaration was presented to Congress and the nation. The declaration had been brought to a vote and had passed the Senate 82-0, then the House 388-1. Roosevelt signed the declaration of war at 4:10 p.m.
This had been followed by Japan’s allies—Germany and Italy—declaring war on the United States.
The Netherlands had declared war on Japan.
Costa Rica had declared war on Japan.
The Dominican Republic had declared war on Japan.
The Union of South Africa, Panama, and Cuba had all declared war on Japan.
China had declared war on Japan.
Finally, Bob shut off the radio. “Let’s go home and get some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll start packing.”
Nancy couldn’t agree more. The news of the last twenty-four hours had been hard to stomach, and her heart felt wrung out. She walked with Bob to their car, and they both remained silent on the way home.
When Nancy walked into their house, it was to a ringing phone. She answered and found an emotional Betty on the other end. “Betty, what’s wrong?”
She could hear the strain in her friend’s voice. “It’s little Barbara,” Betty said. “The doctors said there aren’t any more treatments. It’s like they’ve given up, but I know they’re right. We can’t keep putting Barbara through more pain. Her body is so small and frail.”
Nancy’s heart squeezed. “I’m so sorry, Betty. She’s such a sweet angel.” As much as she felt like an anomaly among her friends, being childless, she didn’t envy the pain that Betty was suffering.
Betty sniffled, her next words faint. “She really is. It hurts to see her suffer.”
They talked for a few more minutes, and by the time they hung up, Nancy was reminded that whatever was happening with the world at large, there was still deep, personal pain in everyone’s lives.
Within a few days, they’d settled in Washington, DC, in a small apartment, and two days after Christmas, Betty called with the terrible news that her daughter had finally succumbed to her cancer. Even though everyone had known the day was coming, Nancy didn’t know her heart could hurt so much again. Losing her brother had been devastating. He’d had many more years than Barbara had though.
“Barbara’s finally free of pain and sickness,” Bob told Nancy as he held her in his arms that night while the moon cast a silvery glow across their bed.
“I know, and for that I’m glad,” Nancy said. “It still hurts so much.”
Bob tightened his hold as his throat bobbed up and down. They both understood the grief of losing a sibling, and now Betty’s two older children knew it firsthand as well. Probably the only silver lining was that Bud Gillies was exempt from the draft because of how critical his work at Grumman was for the war effort, so at least Betty had her husband around to navigate this loss together.
“I don’t know if I could ever survive losing a child—if we ever have children,” Nancy said.
Bob kissed the top of her head. They’d discussed this worry more than once. “Have you thought more about going to a doctor?”
“I don’t want bad news, if that’s what you mean,” she said on a sigh. “But I know I should go. After the war.”
Bob’s arms only tightened about her. She knew he hoped for children as much as she did, but they both kept their heads up by staying busy.
And Washington, DC, was no different. Work flew at them at a frantic pace, with so many changes and so many new orders and directives going out. The reunion with Olds was bittersweet. When Nancy had seen him in the summer during the meeting with Cochran, he’d seemed lighter, more hopeful. Now he was a brigadier general and the head of the Ferrying Command, and it was easy to see that he carried much of the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Nancy, I want you to meet Major Robert H. Baker,” Olds told her over a dinner appointment a few weeks after they’d arrived in Washington, DC.
It was a miracle they were all able to coordinate a time for dinner. Both Olds and Bob had been working nonstop, and Nancy had been unpacking and fielding phone calls from family and friends, who all had the same fears and unanswered questions. She couldn’t remember when she’d last had a full night’s sleep.
“Is Major Baker in Washington?” Bob asked as the waiter cleared their plates and handed over the dessert menu.
“No, we’d have to go to Baltimore,” Olds said. “He’s reported to Logan Field, Dundalk, since he’s on orders to set up the Northeast Sector, Domestic Wing of the Ferrying Command.”
“He’s a great man,” Bob answered, then said to Nancy, “Flew in World War I, and he’s been with the 154th Observation Squad of the Arkansas National Guard, recently working for the Ferrying Command.”
That was all very well and good, but Nancy was curious about one thing. “Why should I meet Major Baker all the way in Baltimore?”
Olds smiled, temporarily lifting the tired lines about his eyes. “He’s going to need an assistant.”
Nancy turned to her husband. “Did you know about this?”
The smile playing on his lips told her he’d had some advance knowledge.
“I’m not leaving Washington, DC,” she declared. “And gas is getting scarcer for driving, you know.”
“But not airplane fuel,” Bob said. “You could fly our Fairchild back and forth.”
Nancy set her linen napkin on the table and sat back in her chair, considering this. They’d brought along their high-winged, single-engine, four-seater Fairchild 24. “Where exactly would I be working?”
