When We Had Wings Read online

  Salvation walked through in the form of Angelita Capel.

  “Lita!” She waved her friend over, ignoring Captain Russell as he slipped away to join a group of fellow officers at their table near the front.

  Penny had arrived in Manila thirty-seven days earlier, and Charley Russell had been a thorn in her side for thirty-six. On her first full day, Maude Davison gave her the task of submitting the hospital inventory requests to the base quartermaster. Once a week she delivered the paperwork and once a week he rejected it. It didn’t matter how carefully she went over the forms; he always found an error, a typo, a misspelling and required her to resubmit them before he would sign off on the orders. Not even in nursing school had her superiors been such sticklers for immaculate handwriting and perfect spelling.

  Penny was certain of very little in her life other than Charley Russell infuriating her for two hours every Friday afternoon. Was it any wonder then that she enjoyed a cocktail at the ANC every Friday evening? Sometimes, when she was lucky, Lita was able to join her.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late.” Lita dropped into a chair at the table, where Penny greeted her with a hug.

  “Nonsense. You’re precisely on ‘Lita time.’”

  After a wince from embarrassment, Lita joined Penny in a laugh, then asked, “Who’s the fellow, by the way?” She motioned toward the back of Russell’s head.

  “My nemesis,” Penny said.

  Lita’s brow arched. “That’s the quartermaster?”

  “In the flesh.”

  “Gee, from what you shared about his being such a grouch, I guess I thought he’d be older.”

  “Satan has no age.” Penny broke into a wide grin when her friend laughed.

  Lita glanced around the rapidly filling room. “Why are we meeting here instead of the bar?”

  “Welcome briefing. There’s a new Navy nurse coming in today. I volunteered to greet her. And you, my dear, are along for the ride.” Penny stuck her tongue out. “Happy hour will have to wait a bit.”

  Lita shrugged. Then she scrunched her nose, tentative. “Dare I ask . . . any word from home yet?”

  “No,” Penny said. And she didn’t expect it either.

  Lita looked at her, those clear brown eyes filled with confusion. Though she swiftly attempted levity. “Well, it does take a while for mail to cross the Pacific. And you’ve only been here five weeks. Did you write to them again?”

  “Once a week, every week. I even tried phoning. Since they’re always home on Sunday afternoons, I got up at four o’clock in the morning because of the time difference. But when the operator said she had a call from the Philippines, my mother hung up.”

  Lita blinked, unable to hide her startled expression. “It . . . must have been an accident. A poor connection, maybe.”

  The melancholy tone of their conversation was a direct contrast to the laughter-filled buzz that radiated through the lounge. Penny was grateful that Lita didn’t mind her somber mood. As a matter of fact, there seemed to be little that bothered Lita. She often appeared perfectly serene, her face the picture of untroubled waters. No frown. No pursed lips. Only acceptance and a seemingly bottomless well of patience.

  “I’m sure they’re not ignoring you,” Lita insisted.

  “Oh, that I know for certain.” Penny rubbed a bead of water off the rim of her glass. She balanced it on the pad of her thumb before she flicked it onto the crisp, white tablecloth. “They’re punishing me.”

  After a moment Lita’s gaze fell—the way Captain Russell’s had—to the ghost line on her finger. Penny had noticed Lita staring at it several times before, but her friend had never asked for an explanation and Penny had never offered. But Lita’s curiosity must have finally gotten the better of her.

  “Is it because you got divorced?”

  And that made Penny smile because she’d known that’s what everyone assumed. “I’m not divorced.”

  Lita’s eyes darted up, widening in surprise.

  “I’m widowed.”

  Lita’s mouth fell open and she covered it with her fingertips. “They can’t be angry at you for that!”

  “No. Not for that. My parents won’t forgive me for joining the Army and leaving them. They feel abandoned. Betrayed.” Penny looked away from Lita and the sympathy pooling in her eyes. She glanced around the room. “But I couldn’t stay there any longer. I . . .”

  She let her words drift away when she saw the woman standing in the doorway. She was in a Navy uniform and young, like many of the other nurses in the Philippines. She had blonde hair like Penny always wished for and watchful blue eyes. The way she moved, the way she scanned the room, radiated a kind of wariness that immediately caught Penny’s attention.

  “What?” Lita asked.

  “There’s our nurse.” She tipped her chin toward the door. “Poor thing looks lost.”

  * * *

  After handing off her purse and suitcase at the club’s reception table, Eleanor stood in the salon for several seconds. Should she just snag any chair?

  A uniformed Army nurse arose at a nearby table and waved to her. Seated beside the gal was a pretty Filipina, also in uniform but that of a civilian nurse.

  Eleanor made her way over, grateful she’d been noticed.

  The standing nurse smiled at her. “Hi there. I’m guessing you’re Eleanor Lindstrom?”

  “I am.”

  “Penny Franklin. I’m here to officially welcome you to the nursing community on Manila.”

  Eleanor saw that she and Penny were about the same height, but Penny’s light brown hair was cut in a far more stylish bob. She also had a confident air about her that Eleanor immediately found inviting.

  Penny nodded toward her tablemate, the Filipina nurse, who had also risen to her feet. “And this is my friend Angelita Capel. I offered to look out for you since all of your Navy compatriots are across the bay and we’re right here.”

  “Everyone calls me Lita.” The Filipina smiled wide and reached out to shake Eleanor’s hand. She was small boned, with ebony-black hair in a low bun and graceful Asian features.

  “Thanks so much for calling me over.” Eleanor pulled out a chair and sat down.

  “Lita’s from here, as you might have guessed,” Penny said. “But I asked her to come because we’re getting cocktails after this. We’re both at Sternberg. You’ll be at Cavite of course?”

  “Yes. At Cañacao Hospital.”

  “So where’s home for you?”

  “Minnesota. You?”

  “Texas.”

  They engaged in a bit more small talk, and then the briefing began. Eleanor and the other new arrivals were informed of where everything was located, what local customs and traditions they needed to be aware of, and what sections of Manila to avoid. They were told how to engage with the territorial residents, what to say, what not to say. And then they were dismissed.

  “Let’s get that drink!” Penny said happily. “You will join us, won’t you, Eleanor?”

  “Sure. I’d love to.”

  Eleanor followed Penny and Lita as they made their way to an elegantly appointed bar on the main floor. It was a few minutes before five o’clock, and the room was beginning to fill with Friday after-work patrons.

  Penny selected a table for three along a wall with an ample view of the rest of the room, and they ordered frothy daiquiris at Lita’s suggestion. Eleanor had never tasted anything so delicious. Or strong.

  For several minutes she listened as Penny told her about her arrival in Manila and how she’d met Lita on her first day on the island. As they got to know each other better, Eleanor sensed a surprising affinity growing already for her two new friends.

  A party of naval officers in dress whites entered the room along with several smartly attired young women on their arms. One of the couples, clearly in love, was being congratulated by others already at the bar. Hank and Marlene, as everyone was calling them, had just gotten married. Bottles of champagne appeared at the table the bridal party
had chosen, and more congratulations were being extended by those seated nearby.

  Eleanor could barely take her eyes off the couple. They looked so incredibly happy. She must have said this out loud because Penny laughed.

  “Well, I should hope so! They’re newlyweds.”

  Lita laughed lightly too.

  Heat rose to Eleanor’s cheeks. The strong drink must have loosened her tongue.

  “So, tell us,” Lita said. “Any special fellow back home you’re missing already?”

  Eleanor had no idea how to answer. When she didn’t reply right away, Penny cocked her head in curiosity. “Come on. We’re all friends now. Who is he?”

  Eleanor didn’t know if it was because of the excitement of being in a new place or making new friends or starting out on a great adventure, or maybe just the effect of the cocktail, but when she opened her mouth, what she hadn’t shared with anyone spilled out. “There is someone back home, but he’s not actually mine to miss. Or love. He’s engaged.”

  Lita exchanged a look of surprise with Penny that quickly gained an overtone of sympathy, and asked, “Does he know how you feel about him?”

  Eleanor laughed. “Oh, he knows. I made the mistake of telling him when I thought he might have feelings for me too. What I took for the beginnings of romantic interest was just him being nice. Reverend John Olson is an extremely nice person.” She shook her head as tears sprang to her eyes. “What a fool I was.”

  Silence hung over the table for a moment. Then Penny laid a gentle hand on Eleanor’s arm. “Clearly he’s the fool if you ask me.”

  “I second that,” Lita said. “A real dope.” Both women smiled, and though Eleanor’s heart remained in tatters, she felt the mending of a single stitch as she smiled in return.

  * * *

  Through another round of drinks, Lita learned a great deal about her new friends. Eleanor shared more details about her heartbreak and John Olson, as well as about life on her family’s dairy farm. Penny spoke about her parents and even a bit about the tragic loss of her husband. Lita, of course, described following in her sisters’ footsteps, both in nursing and in her hopes of moving to the States. And while she rarely shared private matters, she did touch upon the passing of her parents—her father when she was a child, her mother five years ago—though, granted, not the guilt she harbored regarding the latter.

  The compassion Lita received from Penny and Eleanor felt as warm and genuine as the words of comfort they continued to trade throughout their uniquely open conversation. She couldn’t explain exactly why their connection felt so effortless. But in a few short hours, it seemed they had known each other for years. Lita dreaded the night ending, having found a sense of sisterhood she hadn’t realized until now how much she missed.

  On the other side of the room, voices burst out in celebration. A layered cake was being delivered to Hank and Marlene’s table. More champagne flowed, and with it a thrilling idea.

  “You know what I think?” Lita said. “The next time Eleanor is on our side of the bay, we have our own celebration—right back here for another daiquiri toast. Cake, too, for that matter,” she added in jest.

  “I’d love that.” Eleanor smiled.

  But Penny shook her head. “The way life can get away from us? I’d say we make it a standing date. How about . . . the last Saturday of every month? Assuming our duty days allow. We’ll call it HAM Day!”

  Lita joined Eleanor in looking at her with a puzzled expression.

  “Hank and Marlene Day,” she explained, as if it couldn’t have been more obvious. All their smiles broadened as Penny raised her nearly empty glass. “Everyone in?”

  Eleanor held up her glass. “Absolutely.”

  They turned expectantly to Lita, and a notion dawned on her.

  She had been feeling pensive of late, a restlessness in her soul that everything about life as she knew it was about to change. But here, in this moment, she also sensed a solidifying bond in these newfound friendships.

  Warming at the thought, she lifted her drink. “To HAM Day,” she said, and their glasses clinked.

  The sealing of a pact.

  1941

  Cry “Havoc” and let slip the dogs of war!

  —William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

  One

  Eleanor

  Cavite Navy Yard

  December 1941

  Eleanor awoke to the sounds of rapid footsteps in the hallway outside her quarters and then heavy pounding on her door. Her room was still bathed in darkness; the day had not yet begun.

  “Out of your beds!” The urgent voice belonged to Laura Cobb, the chief nurse, a longtime Navy veteran and Eleanor’s direct supervisor. “Get dressed. Don’t turn on any lights!”

  Eleanor sat up. Something had happened. Or was happening. And it wasn’t good.

  The unease that came over her as she swung her legs over the side of her bed was immediate and foreign. In the four months that the naval base had been her home, she’d only experienced a sense of surprising calm. Everything she’d heard about Manila being a paradise assignment had proven true. The weekend parties in the city, the lazy afternoons on the beach, the long bicycle rides, and the HAM Days with Penny and Lita had all combined to make her off-duty hours seem as though she were on a perpetual vacation.

  The same pounding fell upon the door directly opposite hers—Peg’s—and with it the same pressing command. “Out of your beds. Get dressed. Don’t turn on the lights.”

  Eleanor fumbled for her wristwatch and squinted to read it in the splash of moonlight falling across her nightstand. Four in the morning. She grabbed her uniform from yesterday with trembling hands and opened her door. Peg Nash, a fellow Navy nurse and her closest friend at the Yard, was standing outside her quarters with her uniform in her hand, too, and her curly brown hair in a tangle from sleep. Laura Cobb was moving down the hall from them, knocking on all the doors and repeating identical instructions.

  “What’s happened?” Peg called out to their commander.

  “Japan attacked Pearl Harbor,” Laura said urgently, turning to them. “It’s been destroyed. Get dressed as fast as you can. The fleet surgeon has ordered us to evacuate the hospital.”

  Laura pivoted quickly to resume her task as a few more doors were opened, and several other nurses in their pajamas looked about in alarm in the dimly lit hallway.

  Eleanor couldn’t make sense of the news. She’d stopped at Pearl on her way to Manila. It was as beautiful a paradise as the Philippines. Laura’s words echoed in her head as she turned to Peg. “It’s been destroyed. It’s been destroyed.”

  “Why are we evacuating the hospital?” Eleanor asked, somewhat dazed.

  Peg began to unbutton her pajama top. “If Japan has attacked Pearl Harbor, the U.S. will declare war. You can count on it. We’re going to be at war.”

  Again words spoken to her in clear English had defied her comprehension. “We’re going to be at war.”

  “But . . . the hospital? Why are we evacuating the hospital? Hawaii is thousands of miles away.”

  “It’s a U.S. military hospital. On a U.S. military base. No base anywhere will be safe from an attack, but especially not ours. Nothing separates us from Hawaii but water. And the Philippines are a strategic Pacific location. We wouldn’t be here if they weren’t. You’d better get dressed. And don’t forget to modify your flashlight.” Peg disappeared into the darkness of her quarters, peeling off her pajama top as she did so.

  Eleanor slipped back into her own dark room, pulled off her nightgown, and donned her uniform. Her heart thumping in her chest, she wrapped a bit of blue cellophane over her flashlight to make it safe for blackout.

  She stepped out into the darkness seconds later, just behind Peg and a few of the other nurses, for the short walk to the hospital. Rain had fallen while they’d been sleeping and the air was thick with a heavy, moist veil. Across the bay the pinprick lights of Manila glittered from eight miles away.

  There were onl
y eleven other Navy nurses under Laura’s command at Cavite, but as they made their way quickly to the hospital, dozens of corpsmen joined them. The enlisted medics had also been awakened and were hurrying out of their barracks. Eleanor overheard two of them discussing the order to evacuate.

  “How can the Japanese attack a hospital? That’s against the rules of warfare in the Geneva Convention.”

  “Japan didn’t ratify the latest agreement. They never formally agreed hospitals were off-limits.”

  As soon as they reached the three-story building, Laura dispersed her nurses to different positions to administrate the evacuation, while sailors got to work stacking sandbags around the building. Eleanor was assigned to help assess which patients could be safely discharged and allowed to return to duty and which would have to be transferred to a safer location. Every sailor-patient who stood in line to be evaluated, chart in hand, begged to be allowed to return to his assignment.

  “It’s just a little bump on the head!” one sailor pleaded. “It’s nothing. Let me go. Let me defend our ships.”

  “You suffered a concussion yesterday,” the doctor replied. “You really should be on bed rest one more day.”

  “I’m fine. Let me go, please. Let me help.”

  “I’m not convinced that’s a good idea.”

  “But, sir. My brother’s stationed at Pearl Harbor. I don’t even know if he survived. The planes that bombed Pearl are surely coming here. Please release me.”

  The doctor sighed and then signed off on the young man’s discharge order. The sailor spun away from them and headed for the exit.

  Eleanor watched him go. Would she ever see that man again?