Townsville, 1943
Evelyn pushed open the gate, hearing the familiar creak as the hinges protested, and headed into town to start her shift for the Red Cross. She’d wanted to join the Women’s Auxiliary Australian Air Force, better known as the WAAAFs, but her father wouldn’t allow it. He considered it unladylike and was determined that no daughter of his was going to be in the armed forces. Evelyn couldn’t think of anything more exciting. She looked longingly at the recruitment posters hanging around town. Compared to the WAAAFs, with their neatly pressed uniforms and air of comradeship whenever she spotted them out and about, her work with the Red Cross seemed rather dull. Evelyn shook off the sulky thoughts and straightened her shoulders. What she did was nothing to be sneezed at. The Red Cross provided a vital service and she should be proud to be part of it.
She approached the makeshift hospital in Chapman Street, which consisted of a row of modified houses. An American nurse hurried across the timber walkway that had been constructed to join the houses together, and smiled at her absently before disappearing into the building.
It was strange, but most of the time she barely batted an eyelid at what was happening around town. It was only now and again when she stopped to think that it made her shake her head in amazement. The construction of a row of concrete slit trenches, dug into the middle of Flinders Street for air-raid shelters was amongst the first of the radical changes to their town. It seemed unlikely they’d ever be used, and a tad overcautious to many north Queenslanders, but they were now part of the landscape as was the barbed-wire fencing along parts of The Strand. The enormity of the changes was hard to digest. Townsville had lost something of its laidback innocence over the last few years. It had gone from a sleepy country town to a bustling, sprawling city within a few months, leaving the local population still scratching their heads at the speed with which their lives had been turned upside down
Americans had only ever been seen on the silver screen or in fancy magazines, then suddenly here they were, walking the streets of Townsville. It had been exciting, at first. The soldiers with their loud voices and strange accents flooding the streets, splashing their money—and attention—freely around town.
The novelty had dimmed a little over the last few months, though. Shortages of milk and fuel added to the exorbitant prices being charged for fruit and vegetables and caused a lot of strain on the local population. Blocks of ice were almost impossible to get hold of since the Americans had contracted the iceworks for the majority of the local supply, leaving the locals to line up from three in the morning in order to buy the precious commodity.
Yet for the younger generations the war had brought unexpected opportunities and it was sometimes hard not to get caught up in it all. While she wasn’t as Yank crazy as some girls she knew, she loved the air of excitement the war had brought to town. She loved talking to the nurses and staff who frequented the Red Cross dances, listening to their descriptions of their lives back home, which sounded so different to life in Australia. She loved the new ideas and latest innovations being adapted in town, milk bars popping up and new cuisine being introduced in an attempt to lure American clientele into restaurants and cafes.
Evelyn looked up when she heard her name being called. Her best friend, Dolly, was waving madly from the back of a US Army jeep. She was helped down by a soldier who, having jumped out of the back of the vehicle, lifted her out and set her down on the footpath. Dolly kissed his cheek and laughed at the chorus of catcalls and cheers that followed from the other men in the jeep before it roared away.
‘Who was that?’ Evelyn asked as she stopped in front of her beaming friend.
‘That was Larry.’
‘What happened to Reuben?’
‘He shipped out,’ Dolly said with an offhand shrug.
‘I thought you really liked him?’
‘I did. But, you know, what’s a girl to do? There’s a war going on and these Yanks come and go. There’s plenty of fish in the sea,’ she said with a wink.
‘You’re terrible,’ Evelyn said with a smile and shake of her head. Over the last year or so Dolly had transformed into a blue-eyed, blonde-haired sex kitten, her outgoing personality completely suited to this new era. Evelyn’s parents had never really approved of Dolly, she’d always been a rather rebellious, outspoken child, but Evelyn liked her. Dolly said and did the things she could only dream of doing. Her friendship with Dolly had been the only thing she’d ever stood up to her parents over. She knew that underneath all that bravado there was a kind and gentle soul. However, Dolly’s reputation was becoming the subject of gossip and Evelyn’s parents had once again begun to voice their displeasure at the girls’ friendship. But really, there was little they could say when they both volunteered at the Red Cross, doing their bit for the cause.
‘There’s a group of us going to the movies on Saturday night. Why don’t you come along?’ Dolly said.
‘And watch you and Larry devour each other all night? No, thanks,’ Evelyn laughed.
‘Oh, come on, you never come out with me. Just once. Please?’
‘I’m engaged, Dolly.’ Not to mention her father’s reaction to her going out with Dolly. She knew well his views about the types of young women who went out on the town. In his mind, they were all asking for trouble. No daughter of his was safe going out on the streets with all those bloody Yanks hangin’ around.
‘Which is why you need to get out and see what you’re missing,’ said Dolly. ‘It can’t hurt to compare what’s out there. How else are you going to be sure Roy is really the one for you?’
‘I don’t need to compare anything.’
Dolly had not been overjoyed when Evelyn had told her she’d decided to get engaged to Roy before he left to serve in New Guinea. ‘Why on earth would you want to stay at home and mope when you could be out having fun?’ she said.
Dolly was loving the fact she could get all the silk stockings she ever wanted, not to mention chocolates and sweet treats from these charming foreigners. How they managed to get hold of half the things they did was hard to imagine, but they showered the locals girls with gifts. Add that to the sweet-talking and courting, and what hope of resistance did the average girl from Townsville have?
It was something that had not gone unnoticed by the rest of the community. There was an undercurrent of unease rippling throughout town. Hostility towards the Americans seemed to be simmering just below the surface, waiting for something to set it off. Food was ridiculously expensive as the district’s resources, which had previously catered for a population of thirty-odd thousand, suddenly had to accommodate an extra fifty thousand people. The logistics of feeding that many personnel were a nightmare. Shop owners were making a killing, to the detriment of their own community in many cases, and for the average local family it was becoming increasingly difficult to buy the essentials like milk, butter and fruit.
Like most families, Evelyn’s grew their own vegetables, kept chooks and had a variety of fruit trees in the backyard, so they were somewhat self-sufficient, but they didn’t have a cow to milk and they still needed staples like meat, providing they could find any ice for the icebox to keep it in. Rations were something they had all grudgingly grown used to, but it was galling that there was a very lucrative black market for those with enough entrepreneurial skills to buy and sell these sought-after items.
‘You’ll just have to cope without me on Saturday,’ said Evelyn.
‘Mark my words, you’ll look back on your life and wish you’d done something crazy while you had the chance.’
Evelyn ignored the small twinge of regret that followed Dolly’s warning. She was looking forward to married life. No longer under her parents’ roof, living by their rules, she’d finally have some autonomy. Besides, it wasn’t as though she was ever going to be able to do what she really wanted, which was to go away and study. Women didn’t need a university degree, at least that’s what her father had always said when she’d timidly brought up the subject. Sometimes she wished she was more like Dolly, who would have done whatever she pleased and not worried about who she hurt in the process. But Evelyn couldn’t do that. Her family was strict, but she knew her parents loved her and her sister very much. She’d never be able to do anything to hurt them, it just wasn’t in her.
‘Just think then,’ Evelyn said, forcing a smile and dismissing her troubled thoughts as she linked arms with Dolly, ‘you’ll be living it up for both of us. God knows you’ve been going through enough men for two women.’
The girls were still laughing when they rounded the corner and came face to face with Mrs Huxley, who ran the Red Cross volunteers with an iron fist.
‘Late again, I see, girls,’ she snapped.
Evelyn tried not to flinch under the weight of the woman’s disapproving glare. Beside her Dolly rolled her eyes and Evelyn groaned silently. Dolly seemed to enjoy needling the woman as often as possible, but Evelyn found everything about Mrs Huxley disconcerting. From the enormous bun tightly pulled back on top of her head, to the sharply angled nose that had given her the nickname of Bandicoot by those brave enough to whisper it behind her back.
‘You might try and remember that you are representing the Red Cross when you come here and conduct yourselves in an appropriate manner.’
‘Oh, come on, Mrs Huxley. There’s no law against having a bit of fun, is there?’
‘I’m well aware of what you call a bit of fun, Miss Rowland,’ she said in a distasteful tone. ‘However, I would have expected better from you, Evelyn. I’m sure your mother wouldn’t approve of you dillydallying and carrying on.’
‘Sorry, Mrs Huxley,’ Evelyn murmured, tugging on Dolly’s arm before her friend could say anything else to annoy the woman further.
‘You know, if Bandicoot would just go out and get a good—’
‘Dolly!’ Evelyn interrupted, staring at her friend with equal parts of dismay and mirth.
‘Well it’s true. You don’t see me getting all hot and bothered about someone laughing, do you?’ she said with a wink, as they entered the building and prepared for another long day.
Their work with the Red Cross was important, Evelyn knew that, but it really wasn’t very glamorous. They packed comfort parcels for the men overseas, sold cakes to raise money and rolled bandages and collected medical supplies headed for the front lines, but she wished she could do something . . . more.
She could be a driver, work in transportation. She’d even written to Roy and asked him to write to her father and convince him, but Roy hadn’t been overly supportive either. Why would you want to drive around a bunch of hobnobbing officers? Or worse, drive trucks? he’d replied. The fact was she didn’t quite know the answer to that, why it was she wanted more from her life. All she knew was that the WAAAFs would have opened up a whole new world for her. She might have ended up anywhere, and that possibility would have been thrilling had there been even the remotest chance her father would allow it.
Swallowing back a frustrated sigh, she ducked her head and hurried around the ever-disapproving Mrs Huxley to get to work.