Battle Hymns (5 page)

We all got buzz cuts a few days ago. I think the
look suits me. John hates it, and I’m sure Natalie would get a kick
out of it. Training is tough. I thought I was physically fit
before. I’m sure I’ll get used to it. Everyone here seems swell
enough, and the morale is high.

Please tell me what you did to ring in 1942. I’d
like to pretend I was there with you, celebrating. How are you? Are
you looking forward to your classes? How are your parents? I’m
looking forward to hearing from you soon. Remember that I love you
with all of my heart and miss you. That reminds me, people assume
I’m married when I wear your ring. I don’t bother to correct them.
In my mind, I’m as good as married to you already.

I’ve included my address, so don’t forget to
write.

Love,

Nick

Charlotte read the letter again and again. Once
Nick’s words were nearly memorized, she dropped the letter onto the
bed and looked for his address. It was tucked inside, the address
transcribed by a typewriter.

Sitting at her desk, she opened the leather box of
her new stationery set. She set a sheet of the cream-colored paper
on the desk and removed a black ink pen. Unsure of what to write,
she brought the cap of the pen between her lips.

Until now, she and Nick hadn’t exchanged many
letters. She’d written messages in birthday cards and the
occasional love note. Beyond that, they’d spent enough time
together that written correspondence was unnecessary. Why write
when she could tell Nick what she was feeling and see his reaction?
She would miss his smile and the desire in his eyes when she told
him she loved him. Her imagination would have to suffice for
now.

With a resigned sigh, she set the tip of the pen to
the paper. She’d write whatever came to mind. She could always
start over.

January 9, 1942

Chevy Chase, Maryland

Dear Nick,

I was so excited when I saw I finally received your
letter. I’m happy you made it to New York safely. I can only
imagine how cold it must be this time of year. Is it colder than it
is in D.C.? It’s been overcast here the past few days, typical
winter weather.

Right now I’m trying to picture you with a buzz cut.
I think you would look nice. I’m having a hard time picturing John
with shorter locks, though. I’ve gotten used to his curly hair. I
wonder what Natalie thinks. She returns from Grand Rapids tomorrow
for the semester. I can’t wait to see her again. She’ll understand
my loneliness and longing for you more than my parents or anyone
else. Classes start Monday and I am, for once, looking forward to
it. It will give me something to think about other than the fact
you’re not here with me. I can get back into a routine.

Evelyn took me to a party at Ginger Rosenfeld’s
house for New Year’s Eve. I tried to have a good time, I promise,
but I missed you every single second.

My parents are doing well. My father is busier than
usual. As you can imagine, the War Department has a lot more to do
since the declaration of war. My mother, I think, will be relieved
to see me leave for school tomorrow. My mood has been less than
chipper since you’ve been gone, and I think she feels like it’s her
responsibility to make me feel better while I’m under her roof. It
will be easier on her nerves when I’m not at home anymore.

I wish I had more to tell you, but my days have been
less than eventful since you left. When my classes start again and
my social life returns, I’ll have more to discuss with you in my
letters. Until then, I want you to know that I love you very much
and that I often daydream you’re sitting right beside me. I miss
you so much sometimes it physically hurts. But I know we’ll make it
through this war. I have faith in that. I can’t wait to hear from
you again. I’ll be checking the mail every single day for your
letters, so don’t keep me waiting!

I’m yours, always,

Charlotte

She set her pen down and read through the letter.
Satisfied, she folded the sheet of paper and slid it into the
matching envelope. She addressed the envelope and placed a
three-cent stamp in the corner. She kissed it once and ran
downstairs to place it in the black tin box by the front door.

Five

C
harlotte returned to
Trinity College on the tenth of January, two days before the spring
semester started. She was eager to return to her routine—classes,
study groups, meals with her girlfriends at the mess hall, tennis
practices, and sleeping in her single bed across from Natalie. The
normalcy would distract her from Nick’s absence.

But there would be no escape from the war. The United
States was now a wartime nation, and its citizens had new
responsibilities.

Washingtonians prepared for an attack on the nation’s
capital. Air raid shelters were constructed throughout the city,
and wardens educated the public on the appropriate response to
warning sirens. When the sirens blared, blackout conditions were
enforced. The thin curtains in Charlotte’s and Natalie’s dorm room
were replaced with heavy, thick drapes that were required to be
closed during a drill. The lighted national monuments Charlotte
once loved to admire at night had become invisible. Even car owners
painted over the top half of their headlights so the beams couldn’t
be seen from above. All were precautions to hide the city from
enemy planes.

For the first time rationing affected their everyday
lives. Personal transportation became severely restricted. The
local rationing board determined each family’s need for gasoline
and tires, divvying out ration coupons only by necessity. A
national speed limit of thirty-five miles per hour was imposed to
reduce gas consumption and incentivize civilians to use public
transportation instead. Sugar was the first food to be rationed.
Within a year, rationing would stretch to include typewriters,
bicycles, coffee, and shoes.

Recycling was stressed. Saving aluminum cans meant
that more ammunition could be manufactured for the soldiers.
Communities joined together to hold scrap iron drives, and
schoolchildren pasted saving stamps into war bond books. Although
hosiery remained a social expectation, many women, especially those
of a younger generation, opted to forgo nylon or silk stockings
beneath their dresses and skirts. Nylons were no longer sold in
stores, and women donated their old stockings for recycling. Both
materials were used to make parachutes, whose manufacturing was far
more important to the country than the covering of a woman’s
legs.

Women went to work in factories and other jobs that
were traditionally held by men. Some of Charlotte’s classmates quit
their studies to take on paying jobs as waitresses, secretaries,
and switchboard operators. Many of her remaining classmates united
through volunteerism. Evelyn and Sandra volunteered at the local
United Service Organizations center. The USO provided services and
entertainment to the troops, and it seemed Evelyn and Sandra spent
most of their volunteer hours dancing with young, handsome
soldiers.

Natalie volunteered to help the Treasury Department
organize war bond drives. Her main responsibility was to write
Hollywood celebrities and persuade them to make appearances at the
drives to boost proceeds for the war effort. To Natalie’s delight,
she’d already received responses from Rita Hayworth and Bing
Crosby, even if the letters were only through their studio agents.
The bond drives had already raised ten thousand dollars, a fact
Natalie proudly tossed into the occasional conversation.

Charlotte’s volunteer efforts were spent promoting
victory gardens with her tennis club. Between practices and tennis
matches, the young women hung educational posters around the city.
They sold packets of vegetable seeds and distributed booklets that
taught farming and gardening techniques to the urban dwellers of
Washington, D.C. They also helped in the formation of neighborhood
cooperatives, all so they could increase the food supply and
provide more fruits and vegetables to the soldiers overseas.

Between her studies, tennis, and community service,
Charlotte had little free time. But it was a sacrifice she was more
than willing to make. Times were tough, and they all wanted to help
out in any way they could.

***

O
n a Monday afternoon in
late April, Charlotte checked her mail. Mrs. Lloyd handed her an
envelope covered in Nick’s handwriting, and Charlotte scampered
upstairs to read his latest correspondence.

Since her first letter in early January, she received
Nick’s letters two to three times every week. Her replies were
written at the same rate. Usually, she’d write a new letter before
receiving his latest reply. The overlap didn’t bother her. It
allowed them to talk to each other that much more often.

Nick never went into specifics about basic training.
Instead, he wrote about his new friends, the types of food he ate
or craved, and any amusing stories he chose to share with her. He
always ended his letters by saying how much he loved her, how much
he missed her, and how much he wanted to see her again.

“I got another letter!” Charlotte said to Natalie as
she entered the room.

Natalie scowled from her desk, where she wrote an
essay for one of her English classes. “I checked earlier. I don’t
have one.”

Lying on the bed with her head against the pillow,
Charlotte read the note.

April 24, 1942

Upton, New York

Dear Charlotte,

We’ve been told to pack up. We’re leaving tomorrow.
Don’t worry—I don’t think we’re leaving the country yet. John
overheard one of the sergeants saying we’re going down to somewhere
near Virginia Beach for “specialized training.” I have no idea what
that means. It’s near the Chesapeake Bay. Maybe it has to do with
water? I’ve probably already said too much, but I don’t think
they’re censoring our letters while we’re still in the U.S. If you
can’t read the above sentence, you’ll know they did.

When we get there, I’ll send you another letter so
you can have my mailing address. I’m looking forward to the warmer
weather. I’d be perfectly content never to spend another winter on
Long Island.

I love you very much. I’ll write to you soon.

Love,

Nick

Charlotte sat up, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” Natalie asked.

“Read it.” Charlotte handed the note to her.

Natalie scanned the page. Her lips twitched into a
frown, too. “Specialized training? That sounds serious. Did Nick
actually think his water clue would make sense? There’s water all
around the world. Their regiment could be shipped off to New Guinea
or to the coast of France, for all we know.” She returned the
letter to Charlotte, who stuffed the letter back into the
envelope.

“He was only trying to help.”

Natalie slouched into her desk chair. “Why didn’t I
get a letter today? Nick found the time to write. John should’ve,
too.”

“Perhaps his letter is still in the post. I’m sure
you’ll receive it tomorrow.”

Natalie wiped the tears under her eyes. “Gosh, I hate
exchanging letters. I just want him to be here.”

Charlotte nodded. Only five months had passed, and
she too had grown weary of the limitations of written
correspondence. If Nick’s letters were too few and far between now,
what would she do when he went overseas? The notion that she would
have to wait even longer for letters filled her with dread.

But regardless, Charlotte would continue her
correspondence without fail or complaint. If she and Natalie were
having a hard time in D.C., how much more difficult was it for the
men who had to journey to another country, so far from home? In
times like these, she and Natalie had to think of their men’s
struggles ahead of their own. They were the true heroes, and it was
their bravery that would allow their country to emerge victoriously
in the end. Offering Nick all the support she could, despite her
own fears and impatience, was her duty as a fiancée and an American
woman. She refused to be discouraged, no matter what.

June 1942

Six

N
atalie stood inside the
door to the train car as it rolled out of the station. She wiggled
her fingers. “Toodle-oo, ladies! Have a swell summer and I’ll see
you in a few months!” The car passed the end of the platform.
Natalie waved once more and ducked her head inside.

“It’s days like these I’m glad my father didn’t make
me go to Bryn Mawr,” Sandra said as she and Charlotte made their
way through Union Station. “I like not having to travel between
school and home. Of course, we’re lucky that home has prestigious
educational options.”

“I don’t know,” said Charlotte. “It could’ve been fun
to travel. Michigan might be nice, despite what Natalie says.”

“In the summer, maybe.” Sandra linked her arm with
Charlotte’s. “Now let’s go shopping. I’m never in this area of
town, and I have ten dollars to spend.”

They left Union Station and strolled to a consignment
shop just down the street. An old mink coat hung from a mannequin
in the window. A bell above the door rang as they entered. The
lingering scent of musk and old perfumes, smells of decades past,
hung in the air.

Sandra flipped through the hangers on the nearest
clothing rack. She removed a polka-dotted cotton dress. “One girl’s
trash is another girl’s treasure.” She found the tag and wrinkled
her nose. “Too small. It’d probably fit you, though. It’s only four
dollars. You should try it on.”

Charlotte held the dress while Sandra continued to
browse the racks. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”