We Happy Few | Band of Brothers

Chapter 4: Group B

The woman with the lush, wavy hair and round face was Sandra Hughes, a beauty boutique owner from somewhere in Georgia. Then there was Betty Warren and Lena Morton, both housewives from Virginia. Francine Kennedy was a former school teacher from Greenville, South Carolina. Finally, Margot Kessler, a shooting range owner from Charlotte, North Carolina. 

Annie smiled to herself as she listened to the women talk about their home lives and what drew them towards joining the WAAC. Annie herself lived at home in New Haven with her two parents, Elaine and Arthur Winslow, and her two brothers and one sister, Philip, Timothy, and Julia. 

If there was anyone who had a seemingly perfect home life, it was Annie. She graduated high school top of her class, she had a big loving family, and she had a boyfriend who she was head over heels in love with. But despite all of these things, she couldn't help but feel like she had so much more inside of herself to offer the world. When she saw the WAAC poster in her local grocery store, she had known right away that that was what she wanted to do; what she needed to do. At first, her parents hadn't been on board, but after some persistent coaxing, she finally got them to agree. Annie didn't need her parent's approval, but she wanted it. 

However, she wasn't so sure how they would feel about combat. Getting them to allow their daughter to operate a switchboard or simply baking for the WAAC was hard enough, but now that the prospect of actually going to war was on the table, she decided that she would only worry her parents if she had to. For the time being she was, in their eyes, indeed at a WAAC training facility, and she wouldn't tell them otherwise unless absolutely necessary. 

When you looked at the simple facts though, she was at Camp Mirage with women from all over the lower half of the East Coast who all shared the same dream: to serve their country. 

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As the sun began to set and the women gathered in the mess hall for dinner, Annie noticed a significant drop in the number of women compared to how many there had been during the speech Captain Miller had given. The energetic, empowering haze the speech had given the crowd must have worn off because what once was a group of about fifty women was now only about twenty-five. There were ten women in Group A, eight in Group B, and seven in Group C. 

Gathering their trays and letting the cooks load up whatever was on the menu for that evening, the women sat down for their meals; the majority of them just sticking to their assigned groups. However, a few did mingle with the others. Ethyl Brown from Group C was one of them. 

Sitting down at the end of the long table, Annie placed herself beside Lena, who after her, was the second quietest of the group. Peering down at her tray, she attempted to identify what in hell they were supposed to be eating. 

"Maybe it's meatloaf?" Cathleen suggested as she broke off the smallest corner of the food lump with her fork and bravely placed it into her mouth. The table watched as she chewed slowly, her face presenting an array of different emotions before she swallowed hard and took a long sip of her water. "Definitely not meatloaf." She concluded. "But it's not half bad."

"Not half bad?" Sandra scoffed. "I saw how fast you went for your water."

With a small smirk playing at the corners of her lips, Cathleen broke off another, larger chunk and shoved it into her mouth. "It's just dry," she mumbled through the mystery substance. "Just try it for yourself if you don't believe me." 

Margot was the next bravest, and after taking a bite, she echoed Cathleen's summary of the food being dry, but not disgusting. Before long, the entire table had dug in and buried themselves deep in conversation about this and that. Well, almost the entire table.

"I think I'll pass." Sandra gently pushed her tray away like a fussy toddler. "Maybe whatever they're serving for breakfast tomorrow will be edible."

"Suit yourself." Francine shrugged from beside her. "But you're gonna be wanting all the energy you can get when you're marching—what was it, eight miles?—in the hot afternoon sun." 

Annie, who knew her small figure was already holding her back purely for appearance's sake, shoveled the food into her mouth as fast as she could. Like Francine had said, she wanted all the strength she could get. As she dug her fork into a pile of what might have been peas, a person slumped down on her right side, startling her a little. 

"Hiya." The chipper girl with a smile that stretched from one side of her face to the other greeted. "I'm Ethyl Brown. Group C."

Annie eyed the girl for a moment before responding. "Annie," she spoke for the first time since Captain Miller's speech. "Annie Winslow."

"Pleasure to meet you, Annie Winslow." Ethyl grabbed Annie's hand and shook it enthusiastically. "So, what do you think about all this?"

Annie placed her fork down on her tray and furrowed her blonde eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Going to war." Ethyl leaned in and whispered as if it were some big secret that needed to be protected. "I heard from a friend back home that they're actually planning to send some of us to the front lines with the men."

Annie sighed. Why did everyone seem to think it was such a big deal to send women into war? If men could do it, why couldn't they? "Yeah." Annie played along with the girl's amazement. "Crazy, isn't it?"

"I, for one, do not think I could do it." Ethyl confessed as she shifted slightly to scratch a spot on her back. "Sleeping outside in the mud and rain, carrying around all that equipment. Only a lunatic would sign up for that."

Annie was about to ask the girl why she was even there in the first place then, but before she could get the words out of her mouth, Ethyl patted her on the arm and stood up. "Well, I'm gonna go meet some of the other girls. See you later!"

With that, Annie went back to eating the rest of her food and keeping to herself. Maybe what she had thought earlier about wanting everyone to succeed was a lie, because she was quite sure after only one meeting that she did not want Ethyl Brown beside her in a foxhole. 

●●●

When it was finally time to tuck in for the night, the women of Group B climbed into their small, hard beds and bid each other goodnight. Neither one of the eight members of Group B—nor any one of the twenty-five of them in total—had even the slightest idea what the following day held for them. 

Some, like Sandra, Betty, and Ethyl had trouble sleeping; their minds keeping them up with worry. Others, like Margot, Cathleen, and Annie found sleep quickly, excited for what was to come and wanting to be as rested as possible. 

The next five days were going to be some of the hardest the women of Camp Mirage had ever faced in their entire lives. As Captain Miller had stated, some would leave voluntarily, others would be forced to pack up and go home, and maybe, just maybe, one or two would prevail against all odds.