“I’m sure the guys will love you. Trust me,” he said, turning her blush up a notch again. “So, what are some of your favorite bands? What type of music do you like best?” Joe asked. Dottie started to relax as she talked about her love of Glenn Miller and the Andrews Sisters.
They continued to talk about music, their favorite songs and arrangements, different bands they’d seen live in Boston and Chicago. It was like Viv and I weren’t even there. I was somewhat amazed that Dottie was talking to Joe at all. Viv kicked me under the table, and I knew she was thinking the same thing. Back in Boston, Dottie would sometimes excuse herself to the ladies’ room when guys sat down with us at a club, just to avoid talking to them.
“I’d love to hear you play sometime, Dottie,” Joe said, taking a last swig of beer and getting up from the table. “I’m heading to a pub a couple blocks down to meet up with some friends, so I’ve got to run. Then I’m out in a couple of days, but hopefully I’ll run into you ladies again.”
“I’m sure you will,” Viv said. “Take care, Joe.”
“It was really nice chatting with you,” Dottie said, giving him a dimpled smile.
He paused, cocked his head, and looked at the three of us for a few seconds. “Are all girls from Boston this pretty?”
“Of course they are,” I said sarcastically, shaking my head. “And yes, I’m sure we’ll see you again. Take care of yourself.”
When he walked away, Viv leaned over the table, patted Dottie’s hand, and gave her a playful grin. “Well, if you talk to all the soldiers like that one, Dottie, you’re going to be just fine over here. All of our worrying about you will be for nothing.”
“Viv, it’s only because he’s a music guy,” Dottie said. “Those types are easier to talk to for me.”
“He’s a handsome guy,” Viv said.
“Yeah, he is,” I said. “I didn’t really think about it the night I met him on the boat, but he’s good-looking.”
“And he liked you,” Viv said, nudging Dottie.
“He did not,” Dottie said, hope in her voice.
Then I remembered about his girl from home, Mary Jane. Oh shoot. I was about to tell Dottie when the band started up again, this time playing “Moonlight Serenade,” and the crowd erupted in wild cheers. A couple was dancing alone in the middle of the dance floor. It took me a second to realize it was Adele, the Red Cross woman from the front desk, and the dashing Brit Harry Westwood. They were mesmerizing as they waltzed across the dance floor, in perfect sync with the music and each other.
“Well, I’ll be damned . . . ,” Viv said. “Do you think that’s his—”
“Girls, what the heck are you doing here in the corner?” Blanche said, barging up to our table. “As soon as they start playing something fun, you are all getting up and dancing. Martha and Frankie are playing pool upstairs with some GIs, but they’ll join us soon.”
“Okay, Blanche,” I said, as she sat down. “Do you have any idea why they cleared the floor for those two?”
“Of course I know,” Blanche said, thrilled to share this gossip. “Don’t you know who Adele is?”
“No idea,” Viv said, handing her a cigarette and pointing to Harry Westwood. “Is that her husband?”
“No, silly, she’s a recent widow,” Blanche said. “She was married to a lord. She’s known over here as Lady Cavendish, but her maiden name is Astaire. As in Fred Astaire. She’s Fred’s sister and his original dance partner.”
We all gasped in surprise and turned to watch the couple’s final spin around the dance floor. She wasn’t a kid anymore, but she was still a gorgeous dancer. When the music stopped, everyone started clapping and cheering, and Adele and Harry gave a quick bow before the band started up with the tune “Oh Johnny, Oh Johnny, Oh!” and the dance floor flooded with couples.
Blanche pulled me up by my hand and nodded to Viv and Dottie. “All right, ladies, we’re going to grab some soldiers to jitterbug with and cheer ’em up before they head off to God knows what.”
I’m not sure if it was the beer or her enthusiasm, but the three of us got up and followed her onto the dance floor, laughing the whole time.
Chapter Five
July 22, 1944
We didn’t get back to our dorms at 103 Park Street until well after midnight, and I collapsed into bed next to Dottie after brushing my teeth, my feet sore from dancing in heels. So many of the officers and GIs at Rainbow Corner had been thrilled to have “real, live American girls” to dance with, and their enthusiasm was infectious. They kept begging us not to go home. For the first time in months, I forgot about everything other than jitterbugging with sweaty soldiers and laughing with my friends.
Seven the next morning came way too quickly. Dottie and I had to drag Viv, dead asleep and snoring, out of bed to get dressed so we could get to the Red Cross headquarters in Grosvenor Square on time. The air raid sirens started just as we arrived at the front doors.
“No worries, girls. Today’s forecast is cloudy with just a slight chance of buzz bombs,” I said to Viv and Dottie, trying to hide my nervousness at the sound of the siren as a receptionist directed us to head up the dark mahogany staircase to the training classroom.
“You’re hilarious, Fi,” Viv said, unamused. “I’ve already got the shakes just from hearing that damn siren. And I can’t believe I can’t smoke in class.”
“I need coffee. And I’m never going to get used to the sirens,” Dottie said, trying to glance out the windows as we climbed the staircase.
We found the classroom on the second floor. It was a lecture hall that had rows of chairs facing a lectern and chalkboard. As we worked our way over to three empty seats in the front, we waved and said hello, chatting with different groups of girls as we passed. I looked around for Blanche, Martha, and Frankie but didn’t see them.
Ten minutes later, the door opened and Judith Chambers walked in holding some files, followed by two other women in Red Cross uniforms and two army officers. The hall quieted down as Miss Chambers took to the lectern. One of the women with her started writing on the chalkboard:
CLUBMOBILE TRAINING
AIR RAID PRECAUTIONS
ANTI-GAS PRECAUTIONS, TREATMENT, AND RESPIRATION DRILLS
FIRST AID REFRESHER
AMBULANCE WORK AND STRETCHER BEARING
GMC TRUCK DRIVING (INCLUDING BLACKOUT DRIVING) AND BRITISH DRIVER’S LICENSE TEST
DOUGHNUT AND COFFEE MAKING
“Good morning, ladies. A warm welcome to your first day of training in London,” Miss Chambers said in a booming voice, smiling out at us. “The sirens are due to what we’ve dubbed the ‘eight o’clock express’ buzz bombs. They’re hoping to catch military personnel on their way to breakfast or work. But not to worry. Someone will come to notify us if we have to be evacuated to the basement.”
“Oh, swell,” Dottie whispered to me. “At least if they ship us out to the country, there will be fewer buzz bombs, right?”
“I have no idea,” I whispered back.
“We have a lot to pack into eight days of training, not to mention other required administrative tasks like dispensing your battle dress trouser uniforms, ration cards, and other necessities,” Miss Chambers continued. “I’m going to break you up into—”
Just then, the door flew open, and a few girls jumped up in panic, no doubt thinking we had to evacuate. But it was Blanche, Martha, and Frankie. Blanche and Martha looking slightly disheveled and bleary-eyed. It was possible they had slept in their uniforms. And Blanche’s alabaster complexion had a distinctly greenish hue.
“Oh boy, did either of you hear them come home last night?” Viv whispered, giving us an amused look. Dottie and I both shook our heads.
“Ahem.” Miss Chambers gave them a tight smile as they all murmured apologies for being late. “Nice of you to join us, ladies.”
Heads down, they hurried over and took seats a couple of rows behind us. Miss Chambers cleared her throat and gave them a pointed look before she began speaking again.
“Before I break you up into groups for training, now is a good time to discuss a few of the requirements of being a Red Cross Clubmobile girl. This is, as you know, a prestigious assignment, and you all went through a rigorous selection process. After completion of your training here in London, you will be out in the field, working very much on your own with the military except for check-ins by your section captain. And I will also be stopping by to evaluate on occasion to make sure things are shipshape in each group.
“In regard to your behavior, we hold you to the highest standards, and you all must abide by the rules of the Red Cross and the army, laid out to you in the guidelines you received in DC. Some of the most important guidelines to remember are, number one, follow the army’s requests and regulations. And number two, adhere to a midnight curfew, unless special permission is granted. Number three? Always be on time. The army waits for no one. And being late in a war zone? That can put you in harm’s way, or even get you killed.”