A Woman's Army

Immediately following graduation from high school, I joined the Women's Army Corps (Wac). I had no desire to attend a college, and my future in a small town in Maine, would have been the shoe factory or the Five and Ten. In light of those choices, the Women's Army Corps was my adventuresome choice! It turned out to be the best decision I had ever made.

Basic training was at Fort McClellan, Alabama. This was my first time away from home, and I was totally unprepared for the world! It was dark when I arrived, and the lights were off in the barracks. I had to get into bed (army cot). Not realizing there was a right way, a wrong way and the "army way" I tried one end of the bed and couldn't get in, then I tried the other; the same result. The cots were made up with a blanket covering both ends---very tightly.

It is shocking to realize how naïve and protected I had been. I had never seen a person of another ethnic background before. There were 30 girls from all over the country; most of us 18 years old. My recruiter had told me that the friends I made in the army would be as close, if not closer, than my friends growing up. Of course, I didn't believe that, but it was true.

I was in a state of panic at first, but realized after awhile that if I could make it through the marching, drills, polishing brass, (everything to exacting army standards), I could do most anything (I have). We sent to school to learn military justice, protocol, how to recognize rank, who to salute, and a million other details. We would be so tired, that to make sure we didn't fall asleep in class, we had to keep an eye on the person next to us, and nudge them if they nodded off.

In basic training, we did not wear the "Class A" uniform (dress). We had to wear blue cotton blouses with long skirts down to our ankles, which wrinkled easily. The complete the ensemble, we wore army green roll down cotton socks, with "granny shoes." We were visions of loveliness.

We had to roll our underwear in our footlockers. Can you imagine what rolling nylons was like? They gave us nylons (not pantyhose). If it weren't done right, when you would come back to the barracks at night, you would find them all unrolled on your cot, along with demerits (gigs). For every item not positioned right, you would get a demerit. Every night, with fear and trepidation we would read the board, wondering if this might be our last day. If that happened, you would be recycled-----starting all over again!

I then attended Southeastern Signal School at Fort Gordon, Georgia. We nicknamed it "Fort Garbage, Disgusta (Georgia). It was a World War II facility, very flat, and heated with coal. The dust was everywhere, and when we would take off our "granny" shoes (black tie-up) there would be a black outline around ones ankles.

Upon graduation, I wanted to be stationed on the East Coast, but this was the army, and I was assigned to the Presidio of San Francisco, while working across the Golden Gate Bridge at Fort Baker. Fort Baker was down in a valley, and very beautiful. At night, the fog would roll in, staying above the valley. A few times I walked to work, which was an exhilarating experience.

I met an army Colonel (WAC), who made a great impact on my life. Her name was Lieutenant Colonel Helen Hart Corthay. She took me under her wing. She died suddenly (at age 53) after her retirement; my memory of her funeral, saluting while taps were being played, my uniform damp from tears, is still vivid. I grieved for a long time. She was a woman before her time. She had 8 years of college, and joined the army during World War II, and was studying for her Ph.D. in 1942! She had 8 medals (one for the Berlin Airlift), and was one of the first women officers in the WAAC (Women's Auxiliary Army Corps), which later became the WAC. One day when it was raining, I was without a raincoat, she took her insignia from her coat, and gave it to me….that is just not done in the military---officers and enlisted are not supposed to fraternize, but she ignored that rule. Her legacy endures.

To sum it up, it was the best experience of my life. I believe every young person coming out of high school, should serve their country. The army (at least then) was the first equal opportunity employer for women. I made Sergeant at age 19, and experienced no discrimination or harassment. We were expected to follow a very strict code: UCMJ/Uniform Code of Military Justice. I found it ironic that people thought military women had a bad reputation; it couldn't have been less true. The army was strict…to the nth degree!

THE DEDICATION OF THE WOMEN'S MEMORIAL
AN HISTORIC EVENT

The First Time Women in the Military Had Been Honored in the History of our Country

Precious Memories:

I surprised my friend in Boston by showing up at her house the night before our trip to Washington, D.C. We had to get up at 3:00 a.m. to take an 8-hour train ride. During the trip we met a 66-year-old veteran. It was her birthday. She had been married four times. She had been raped in Korea, and her husband divorced her. She gave up her baby, but her daughter had just found her. Her companion was a (literally) stand-up comedienne, and I taped the conversation.

We attended a gala dinner at the National Guard Armory. Three hundred waiters in tuxedoes marched into the hall filled with music, holding cakes held high, with sparklers. Connie Stevens read a poem, Loretta Swit sang, Tipper Gore spoke. We were given beautiful pewter keychains. Magnificent flower arrangements and china arrayed the tables. General Vaught (President of the Women's Memorial), spoke. Although 3,000 women were expected for dinner, 5,000 showed up. The extra women were given seats in the balcony, and box lunches. The General lectured them: "You people in the balcony are there because you were late…but we didn't want to leave anyone out."

My friend from Massachusetts was invited to a tea -A Boston tea party, at a hotel, and I went as a guest. Everyone received long-stemmed red roses, a flag, and tea in a miniature house. Incredible women with fascinating stories to tell; many who never had the chance to tell them.

At the entrance to Arlington Cemetery, for the Dedication Ceremony, Kenny Rogers and Patti Austin, with full orchestra, sang a song written especially for us. "I Will Always Remember You." I cried (rather, sobbed) during the entire song, and later bought the tape.

All the aging veterans and their memories, and stirring military music, the soldiers' color guard with flags, the 101 year-old veteran, telling young women considering the military, to "go for it!" Many in wheelchairs, some crying, NE asleep, one with oxygen. A woman with a sign, asking if anyone knew her mother who had died in World War II. A WWII woman walking alongside me, being interviewed for TV. When I asked if I could take her picture, she exclaimed, "Everyone wants to take my picture.!"

A Vietnam veteran, telling of hearing Nixon say on the radio, "I guarantee there are no soldiers in Vietnam…." She smashed her radio. No more than four hours of sleep staying up every night, until 1 or 2 a.m…laughing, talking, and remembering. I jumped on the bed to take a picture of my friends, and fell to the floor, the bedspread being slippery.

After the memorial service, on a bridge, we met a woman, who appeared to be about 60. Years before, she had been raped at knifepoint, and was told she should "fear for her life" if she ever told anyone. She had been in and out of psychiatric hospitals for the past 20 years. When a story was aired on TV about these kinds of situations, she called the number on the screen. The next morning, the CID (Criminal Investigation Division) of the army showed up on her doorstep. I took her name, and told her I would help her find out who did this, because I have a book on How to Find Anyone Who Was in the Military. I lost her name and address. It took me 2 years, but I finally found her! Imagine the trauma for her to speak to us---strangers; although we weren't, really.

The march at night: 30,000 women with candles, marching across the Lincoln Memorial Bridge, while planes from Andrews Air Force Base (flown by women), flew overhead. We all held our candles high, and waved them. I would have loved to have seen that from the air.

I was struck by the camaraderie of every woman veteran there, and thought that-this is the first time we've been recognized in history, and for the World War II veterans, it will probably be the last time they will be together with their contemporaries.

Singing the National Anthem, saluting again after so many years, the Battle Hymn of the Republic, Taps, saluting again…….silence…..dropping rose petals into the reflecting pool, to honor those deceased. Singing "Let There Be Peace on Earth." Fireworks…

The end…..hopefully…not.