“There is just a chance that this is not a time when women should be patient. We are in a war and we need to fight it with all our ability and every weapon possible. Women pilots, in this particular case, are a weapon waiting to be used.”
—First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt, “My Day” column, September 1, 1942
September 1942—Washington, DC
Nancy might have slept in, but a ringing phone awakened her at the first glimpse of dawn. Late-night or early-morning phone calls never boded well, and her heart rate zoomed when she said, “Hello?” into the receiver.
“Nancy, sorry to call so early,” Tunner said, “but I’ve received word that Jacqueline Cochran landed in New York the day we met with the press. Yesterday, she met with General Arnold. Let’s just say she wasn’t pleased about discovering that the WAFS had been set up without her involvement.”
Nancy hadn’t expected Cochran’s return so soon; none of them had.
Bob padded into the kitchen, curiosity etched on his face. Nancy waved at him to sit down next to her as Tunner continued.
“Late yesterday, General Arnold called a meeting with General George and General C.R. Smith. Cochran was in that meeting, too, and Arnold demanded that the ferrying project be revised, with Cochran representing him on the revision.”
Nancy met Bob’s questioning gaze, then asked Tunner, “What’s really going on?”
“General Arnold is playing dumb, and I don’t know why.” Tunner paused. “According to Cochran, he promised her the leadership role should a women pilots organization be established. And now he’s told her that he gave instructions for the preparation of a plan to use women pilots but that the announcement had been made without his knowledge or approval.”
Annoyance shot through Nancy. How many surprises would be lobbed at her? “That’s ridiculous. Is Cochran buying that? I can understand why she’s upset, but it should be with General Arnold, not us. We weren’t the ones making promises to her.”
“Agreed,” Tunner said. “This should be General Arnold’s mess to sort out with her, but he’s bringing everyone into it now and making demands.”
“So, what now?”
“That’s what I needed to give you a heads-up about.”
Nancy reached for Bob’s hand and held on.
“General George is drafting up a two-part plan to send to General Arnold in order to satisfy Cochran,” Tunner began.
Nancy wanted to protest, but instead, she bit her lip, listening carefully.
“General George will point out that the ATC’s direction to employ qualified female ferry pilots will go forward, though ATC doesn’t have the facilities to train additional women. But the Flight Training Command does have facilities and can be used for the training. The women pilots can go through the FTC Program, then be employed by ATC for flight duty.”
Nancy let that absorb. “Granting that ATC is allowed to hire more female pilots after our original twenty-five or fifty?”
“Correct,” Tunner confirmed. “And Miss Cochran would direct the Women’s Pilot Training Program.”
It made sense, and it was logical. But would Cochran go for it? If she did, this firestorm could be calmed quickly. “I understand the value of having a Women’s Pilot Training Program, because if the Ferrying Program gets off the ground, I’d love to see it expanded beyond the initial squadron,” Nancy said at last.
“I see that too.”
“Maybe Cochran returning to the US this week and pushing her agenda is a blessing in disguise.” Nancy released Bob’s hand and rubbed the back of her neck. “At least I’m going to try to see it that way, although I’m sure none of this will be smooth sailing.”
“I don’t expect that it will be,” Tunner said in a wry tone. “I’m sending Teague to the meeting since I can’t get out of my commitments this week.”
Captain James S. Teague was a lower-level captain, but if Tunner trusted him, Nancy would too. She wasn’t about to get in the middle of whatever firestorm Cochran was going to stir up.
After hanging up with Tunner, she turned to Bob and filled him in on the conversation, although he’d ascertained most of it.
“Come to the office with me today so we can get Teague’s report firsthand,” Bob said.
“I’m planning on it.” She folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. “I hope Cochran doesn’t blow this all apart.”
“She might squawk from her corner,” Bob said, “but General George’s proposal is very reasonable and logical.”
“That’s what I think too,” she said. “But will Cochran agree?”
Bob gave Nancy a half smile. “The Army can’t renege on the WAFS. It’s a done deal. We’ll focus on getting your squadron ready to ferry. Whatever happens in the Training Program will be Cochran’s responsibility.”
Nancy couldn’t agree more, but new concerns were now popping up. “We can’t hire everyone who goes through training—that’s never a 100 percent guarantee,” she said. “They’ll still have to meet all of ATC’s flight test and physical requirements.”
“Yes, and you’ll have to make that clear from the beginning.”
She grimaced. “I see more debates coming up.”
Bob grasped her hand and squeezed. “Like Secretary Stimson said, you’re one of the most important women associated with the Army right now. This program is making history, and we’ll just have to ride out all the bumps.”
Nancy slipped her other hand over Bob’s but couldn’t hide her sigh. “You’re right. We all want female pilots to be given this chance, so it’s imperative to keep our egos out of the way. Which might not be possible for some, but I’ll make every effort.” At least, she’d try, even if she collapsed into bed every night from sheer exhaustion of keeping a level head.
Bob leaned close and kissed her cheek. “Want coffee?”
“I love you.”
He grinned and rose from the table. As he busied himself about the kitchen, Nancy called Betty, needing her one-step-removed opinion.
“You have the support you need, Nancy. Focus on moving forward in your program,” Betty said in a raspy voice. It was still early for all of them. “Let Cochran storm about and blame whoever she wants for being left out of the original planning. It was noble of her to go to England, but it was also noble of you to stay and work out utilizing female pilots in our homeland. In the end, the war is our priority—and winning this war should be everyone’s priority. Not placating bruised egos.”
“Exactly,” Nancy said. “That’s what I needed to hear. You and Bob are like parrots.” She gratefully sipped at the coffee he’d set before her.
The next hours spent at Bob’s ATC office were filled with phone calls as Nancy fielded questions and fine-tuned the ferrying training syllabus. In the next week, she’d be moving to Wilmington and working with Colonel Baker to make candidate selections. There wasn’t any time to waste.
“Do you have a few minutes?” Tunner asked, walking into the office with Captain Teague.
Nancy looked up from where she’d commandeered one end of Bob’s desk.
“Come in,” Bob said immediately, then moved to shut the door behind them.
Tunner and Teague took two available seats. “Captain Teague has brought a report of the meeting with General Arnold, Miss Cochran, and other representatives of Air Staff and CAA.”
Teague gave a brief smile of acknowledgment. He was a thin-faced, sharp-eyed man with a mellow voice. “The good news is that there are now two female pilot groups: the WAFS Ferrying Program, headed up by Mrs. Love, and a pilots training program, headed up by Jacqueline Cochran, which will be called the Women’s Flying Training Detachment, or the WFTD. The Training Program will be set up at the Houston Municipal Airport.”
Nancy wasn’t surprised, and frankly, she felt relieved that Cochran had accepted General George’s suggestion.
“But . . .” Teague hesitated. “Cochran looked clearly agitated about the Ferrying Program being organized in her absence. I had the feeling she wants to be over all women pilots in the United States. She didn’t say it outright, but Cochran made it no secret that she sees herself as fully qualified to do so.”
Nancy exhaled, holding back her comments. She’d save them for later, for Bob.
“In addition, I was asked to pass on the message that Mrs. Love’s program would not give flight checks to women who Miss Cochran has already passed off.”
Nancy stiffened. She couldn’t keep silent any longer. “Unless Miss Cochran is at Wilmington and part of the daily training, she won’t know exactly what we’re looking for or requiring. Our testing needs to be hands-on, not blindly accepted because of a graduation certificate.”
“True, and I didn’t agree with the demand or make any promises on Mrs. Love’s behalf.” Teague glanced at Tunner, then at Nancy. “We’re putting the summary of the meeting in writing so that everyone will be on the same page.”
“Excellent,” Tunner cut in. “We’ll say something to the effect that graduates of WFTD will only be employed by the 2nd Ferrying Group if they pass the flight test and physical examination and not because they are graduates.”
Nancy breathed easier. Tunner had once again proven to be her full supporter.
“And surely, as more women become trained and qualified, more squadrons will be organized,” Bob offered. “Nancy’s leadership will be a natural fit for the expansion.”
“We’ve considered that as well and agree,” Tunner said. “We all need to keep our noses clean and focus on the purpose of the program of utilizing female pilots to free up the male pilots for combat missions.”
It was a heavy thing to consider—women pilots being trained to ferry so men could risk their lives overseas.
Over the next few days, Nancy was caught up in packing and moving to Wilmington. She wasn’t excited about leaving Bob, but everything else was going better than she could have planned.
“They’ve just pulled up,” Bob said, coming into their bedroom one evening.
Nancy set down a folded blouse. Her parents had insisted on traveling in for an overnight visit before she embarked on her new adventure. Hurrying out of the room, she reached the front door and opened it. Her parents were coming up the steps. “Mother! Daddy!” She stepped forward into the early crispness of the September afternoon and hugged both of her parents.
Each time she saw them, her heart tugged because they’d aged a little more. She supposed she was aging, too, but time existed in a whirlwind for her. Seeing her parents brought everything to a standstill.
“Come in,” she said, motioning them inside. “Dinner should be out of the oven soon.”
Bob stepped onto the porch and took the two bags her father held.
“Smells wonderful,” her mother said, although Nancy knew she wouldn’t hold back her opinion of the actual dinner once it was served. But Nancy didn’t mind. It was her mother’s way of speaking whatever was on her mind. Which meant the subject of children would be brought up again.
The war had been Nancy’s most recent excuse. Well, she didn’t need an excuse because lately, she wondered if there was something wrong with her inner workings. She’d never tried to prevent babies, so why hadn’t she become pregnant? She’d come to the conclusion that she needed to see a doctor who specialized in women’s health, but she was almost afraid of the answer. What if she were told she was barren? Would it be better to know or better to hope she wasn’t?
“This is cozy,” her father said, his voice surprisingly loud in the small space.
She’d almost forgotten how quiet things were with only her and Bob in the apartment. She gave her parents a quick tour, and when they paused at the bedroom door where evidence of packing spread across the bed, her mother said, “Must you really leave your husband for this job?”
“It’s a short flight away,” Nancy said, not surprised by this question either. “We only see each other at night most of the time anyway.”
“Because of that Baltimore job,” her mother said none too cheerfully.
“Yes, but that’s over now, although I’ll still be working with Colonel Baker in Wilmington.”
“It’s a fine thing you’re doing, Nance,” her father cut in. “You’ve put your heart and soul into this, and it’s finally coming to fruition.”
Her mother gave a tight smile, then headed down the hallway, saying that she’d check the oven.
“Don’t mind her,” Father said quietly. “She’s worried about you flying the larger bomber planes.”
“Oh, that’s a ways off.” But Nancy was smiling, and her dad returned it. “Mother will have to get used to it.”
“She’s proud of you, though, but she’s worried, too, if that makes sense.”
“It makes perfect sense. I know she wants grandchildren. Win the war, stay safe, have babies . . . It’s all rather straightforward.”
Her father chuckled and set an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him as they walked together to the kitchen, where Bob had pulled out the chicken casserole from the oven, and Mother was filling up glasses with lemonade, which Nancy had saved some rationed sugar for. Nancy suspected more food items would soon be rationed.
The dinner conversation was as Nancy had expected. Talk of the war and the Battle of Stalingrad that had begun in August, with Nazi Germany trying to gain control of the city of Stalingrad from the Soviet Union. Then, surprisingly, Father pulled out the day’s copy of the Washington Daily News. “I snatched this on our last stop, and I was surprised at Miss Cochran’s comments.”
Nancy took the paper from him and read Cochran’s printed comments aloud, “Yes, I’ve been called back by General Arnold to be head of the women’s air corps in this country. Our goal is 1,500. I’ve had such success with my girls in England that I know this will work.”
Nancy stared at the words, rereading them silently. She felt everyone around the table watching her, waiting for her reply. Finally, she looked up. “Well, the sky in Jackie Cochran’s world is certainly a different color than mine.”
“That’s right.” The lines about Bob’s eyes had tightened. “Who wants dessert?” he asked with false cheerfulness.
“I do,” Nancy said immediately. A cold chocolate pudding would be just the thing right now. She rose from the table and helped Bob serve. Irritation snaked through her, but mostly, she felt tired. Tired of the press following the story so closely. Tired of hearing things about Jackie Cochran second- or thirdhand—especially when she sensed some personal digs at herself. Nancy knew that wasn’t the case, but her emotions jumbled whenever that woman was brought up.
She had to keep in mind what Bob and Betty had told her—there was room for both programs—and they should be interconnected. But it seemed Nancy had made all the concessions, staying quiet and conciliatory, whereas Cochran made brazen, public statements and actively alienated those she should be keeping as her closest allies.