December 7, l941 was my l7th birthday, and before the day was over we knew
in our hearts that it meant America would soon enter the War. I can
vividly remember making the statement that if they ever started a branch
of the Navy for women, I would enlist. Of course, they did just that in
July l942, but unfortunately made the ruling that you had to be 21, or 20
with your parent's permission, before you could join.
Three months before my 20th birthday, in September, 1944, I took my physical and
signed the papers to become a United States Navy WAVE.
My father signed for me, feeling that I must be serious, not having
wavered for nearly three years, but my mother was dead set against it. My brother, who had re-enlisted earlier, was
also against it, as were many people, especially the majority of
servicemen.
I took my basic training at Hunter College in New York, and for a young
sheltered 20-year old from New England, it was a real education. As tough
as it seemed at the time, I have never regretted a day of it.
I was assigned to Naval Communications, and ultimately became Yeoman to
the Legal Assistant to the Chief of Naval Communications. One of the more
interesting assignments we had during my tenure was preparing the
paperwork for the Captain, who was my boss, to give his daily presentation
to the Congressional Committee which was holding hearings on how and why
the Pearl Harbor disaster happened.
In due time, that Captain went on to another assignment, and his
replacement was another Captain, one who had spent the entire war
commanding ships at sea, but I was the first WAVE he had ever had under
his command.
One of the most popular assignments for WAVES was that of Flight Orderly
with Naval Air Transport. Because of that the billets were filled
quickly. When we enlisted we enlisted for "...the duration and six
months..." and when the war was over, it was first in and first out on a
point basis. Because of this, Flight Orderlies were among the first to
go, and the ranks thinned quickly. Those of us who were lower on the
release list were given the opportunity, by testing, to go to F.O. School
at Patuxent Rivert, Maryland for six weeks, and were then sent to the
various squadrons.
My assignment was Moffett Field, California, and for
the rest of my tour, I flew between Moffett and Honolulu. This was great
duty. Our flight schedules were erratic--sometimes we would fly over and
fly back again 8 hours later. At other times, we would have several days
layover, and were able to spend time sightseeing and swimming off the
sunny beaches. Since the war was over, some of our flights were carrying
freight, some were carrying civilian workers who would go on to Guam or
other others to start the rebuilding, and still others were carrying wives
and children going to join their husbands.
These were fun, but the return flights were not always as pleasant - many of them were termed "hospital
flights", when we brought back wounded men who were being transferred to
hospitals in the States.
I was released in June of l947. I went back to my home in Massachusetts
to visit my family, but soon returned to San Francisco, and went to work
for Standard Oil Company of California. I stayed in the Naval Reserve and
then took my discharge. In November of l956, I met my husband, who was in
the Naval Reserve (he finally retired in l989 as a Chief Boatswain's mate,
with 43 years of service). I then rejoined and we served in the same unit
at Hunter's Point Naval Shipyard in San Francisco.
In l965 we moved to my husband's home town in Wisconsin, and both became
active in The American Legion. Over the years I have served as Post
Commander, State Historian for l0 years, and National Historian for
l996-l997.
Just one other anecdote I remember vividly. About the third day I
arrived in Washington as a very young, very frightened Seaman Second
Class, I was sent out on an errand for one of the officers. It was a
drizzly day, and I was waiting at the bus stop, leaning against the pole.
A large, black car pulled up, a petty officer got out, went around and
opened the passenger door. A short, stocky man got out, and went into the
building.
The P.O. came over to me and asked if I knew who that was, and
of course I said I did not. Remember, we were all wearing rain gear so no
rate or rank showed. Imagine my horror when he told me it was Admiral
Bull Halsey, one of the heroes of World War II. I worried for days that I
might be put on report for not having come to attention and saluting the
Admiral. Fortunately, he apparently hadn't even noticed.
