Those of you who follow me on Tumblr know that I have been working on this story for several months. I got the idea while re-watching the show Bomb Girls this past winter, and I've finally decided that the story is ready to share with you. I love the 1940s (my personal wardrobe is comprised of almost solely 1940s/1950s-style clothing), and I really wanted to write a story set in this time frame.
Due to the nature of the story and how quickly things move, you may find some aspects to be slightly OOC. I hope this doesn't deter you from reading it.
Here goes! Hope you enjoy and please review!
Friday, August 20, 1943
Beth Greene dabbed a light layer of coral-colored lipstick across her smooth lips. She tossed the lipstick into her small clutch purse and gave her reflection a quick once over before grabbing her purse and rushing out of her room and toward the front door of the small apartment. Her older sister, Maggie, was waiting by the door with an impatient expression on her face.
"Honestly, Beth, I don't know why you always insist on wearing lipstick to work," the older girl sighed. "It's not like you have anyone to impress at the factory."
Beth ignored Maggie's jab and followed her sister out of the cramped two-bedroom apartment the two girls shared, closing and locking the door behind her. Both sisters had been working at the Bell Bomber plant in Marietta, Georgia, for several months now. It was by no means glamorous or exciting work, but both girls felt it was their duty to help the war effort in any way they could. As women, factory work was one of the only available outlets for them to help, and the large factory just outside Atlanta was always looking for more able hands to assist in the production of the B-29 bomber airplanes manufactured there.
Beth and Maggie had enjoyed a quiet upbringing on their family farm, and for many years, it seemed that the war would never touch their serene country life. Even after the Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor, forcing the United States into the war, it never felt like their country was at war. Their secluded home in the country felt far from the fighting, and the girls' father, Hershel, avoided talking about the war at home. It wasn't until the girls' brother, Shawn, had enlisted that the war was truly brought to the Greenes' doorstep.
Shawn had been deployed to Germany the previous year, and he sent his sisters letters as often as he could. Hershel may have censored talk about the war at his home, but Shawn was never one to sugarcoat things. He described life at war in gruesome detail in his letters to Beth and Maggie, inspiring both of them to want to help the war effort in their own right. If they couldn't be there fighting beside their brother, they could at least aid in the production of aircraft that could make a difference in saving American lives.
At first, Hershel had been against the idea. He didn't like the thought of his two daughters working in a factory that produced bombers. Though this factory work wasn't as dangerous as the work conducted in munitions factories, it still wasn't nearly as safe as the farm work the girls helped with at home, and he wanted to be able to keep an eye on them. Maggie's typical persistence was the first to win out, but initially, Hershel had only agreed to let Maggie go, arguing that the 18-year-old Beth was too young for such work. His comment had sparked a fire in the youngest Greene daughter, and she had retorted that if men were old enough to die for their country at 18, she was most certainly old enough to help her country on the home front. Hershel hadn't been able to argue against that point, and soon after, both of his daughters had moved to Marietta together to begin working at Bell Bomber.
Living in Marietta was like a dream for the Greene sisters. Even though Maggie was now 24 years old, she had still always lived at home to help out with work on the farm. Now they had their own apartment, and since Marietta was only twenty minutes from downtown Atlanta, there was much to entertain. Marietta was connected to Atlanta by streetcar, but Hershel had given the girls an old pickup truck (with the caveat that his daughters promise to visit home as often as they could), and they often took the Dixie Highway to get into the city. Both girls worked long hours at the factory, but they had weekends off, and they used their free time to their advantage.
"We better step on it, we're gonna be late," Maggie sighed as the two girls climbed into the rusty old pickup truck. She turned the key in the ignition and the engine groaned to life. The truck had definitely seen better days, but so far, its engine hadn't failed them. They were able to take the streetcar to work if need be, but on mornings like these, they always preferred to drive to save themselves the extra time the streetcar always took.
"We'll be fine," Beth sighed. "You're for sure coming to my show tonight, right?"
"Of course I am, dummy," Maggie grinned. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."
Tonight would be Beth's second performance singing at a bar in Atlanta. One of the girls at the plant had gotten the gig for her, and although her first performance hadn't drawn much of a crowd, she was still excited to be able to sing for an audience again. The opportunity to sing for people other than her family was one of Beth's favorite things about living near the city. The bar she would be singing at wasn't much; its typical clientele were factory workers like herself and sometimes military men looking for one last drink before they shipped overseas. But regardless of who her audience was, Beth couldn't wait to be on stage. She just had to make it through the workday first.
Soon the truck pulled into the employee parking lot at Bell Bomber. The Greene sisters hurried out of the truck and inside, the familiar smell of the bomber factory filling their noses. They quickly made their way to the locker room where their coworkers were changing and chatting.
"Two minutes later and you'd be facing Mary Ann's wrath," Tara, one of the women the girls worked with, commented. Mary Ann was the floor matron for their shift, and it was her job to keep the factory girls in line. She was quite strict, though many of the girls thought that she had a soft spot for Beth. Regardless, she was very intimidating when her girls were late.
"Thank goodness it's Friday," Maggie muttered. Both Greene girls quickly changed out of their dresses and into their standard work wear: high-waisted denim coveralls with a hair scarf to keep their tresses out of their faces while they worked. The uniform was the real reason Beth liked to wear lipstick to work; it was drab and androgynous, and Beth liked to maintain a bit of her femininity. She had just finished tying the red gingham scarf around her head when Mary Ann marched into the locker room, clipboard in hand. All the girls lined up as they routinely did each day while Mary Ann went through the roll call to make sure everyone was present and dressed acceptably for her shift. When everyone was accounted for, the girls filed out of the locker room and off toward their assigned work stations.
Beth and Maggie both had the privilege of doing electrical work. After spending two months hand-painting zinc chromate primer onto B-29 wings, their skilled attention to detail had landed both sisters positions routing and labeling electrical wires prior to installation on the planes. The work was intricate and required impeccable focus, but it was much better than having to work with a protective mask over their mouths all day while hunched over painting the airplane wings.
The Greene sisters sat down at their usual station, and Beth smiled at Amy, a woman she sat next to who had become one of her closer friends at the plant. Amy's sister, Andrea, also worked at Bell, but she worked on a different assembly line. Almost 40% of the employees at Bell Bomber were women, and Beth was proud to be one of them.
Beth turned her brain onto autopilot as she began working with the wiring in front of her. Her nimble fingers worked quickly and efficiently, but her mind kept wandering to her upcoming performance that night. She was filled with anticipation and prayed the workday would go by quickly. She bit her lip and forced herself to focus. The day would end soon enough, and then she would get her chance to shine.
"Are you sure I look okay?" Beth fretted.
"Honey, you look amazing," Amy assured her friend, moving curls of Beth's blonde hair out of her face.
"I feel so out of place in this getup," Beth giggled. "But at the same time, I feel like a glamorous movie star!"
"And you look like one, too," Amy smiled. "Veronica Lake better watch out!"
Beth wore a slinky, floor-length scarlet silk gown for her performance. The gown belonged to Amy, and it had sewing pins holding it in on the sides where it had been too big, but Beth had to admit that it looked amazing on her. It had a long slit up the side that Beth had at first thought was too much, but Amy had insisted that a little sex appeal went a long way onstage. She paired it with a black shawl that she clutched around herself to hide her bare shoulders. Despite how flattering the gown was, Beth couldn't help feeling a little exposed.
Before she could doubt her appearance any longer, however, she heard her name being announced onstage. Amy flashed her an excited smile and gave her a little push toward the curtain. Beth grinned back at her and took a deep breath before she stepped onto the small stage.
The stage lights were blinding and she couldn't see much of the crowd in front of her, but she heard a few whistles in the audience. She blushed a little, but the sounds still boosted her confidence. She approached the microphone as the small jazz band behind her began playing the opening notes to "Summertime." She squinted a little into the audience and, with relief, saw familiar faces from the factory. Maggie, Andrea, Tara, and Rosita had come to see her sing. She smiled at them and Tara whistled at her.
"Summertime, and the livin' is easy . . ." the sound of Beth's sweet voice filled the small club, and her eyes drifted over the other audience members. There were more people in attendance than last time, and many of them appeared to be military men.
"Fish are jumpin', and the cotton is high . . ."
Beth continued to scan the audience as she sang, and her eyes suddenly landed on the darkened face of a particularly handsome private. He sat by himself at the end of the bar, his face half covered in shadows, but his piercing eyes bored into her and made her feel as though her skin was tingling. She tore her gaze away from him, afraid the heat of his eyes would make her forget the words.
"Oh, your daddy's rich, and your mamma's good lookin' . . . so hush little baby, don't you cry . . ."
She tried to focus on the rest of the audience, particularly her friends, who were watching her with wide smiles, but her eyes kept darting back to the mysterious man at the end of the bar. His gaze was unwavering, and even though Beth knew he should be watching her since she was onstage, she felt like he could see right through her. A whistle from somewhere else in the audience tore her eyes away from him, and she remembered Amy's advice to be sensual and flirtatious onstage.
"One of these mornings, you're gonna rise up singing . . ." Beth extended her leg out of the slit of her dress, revealing the smooth skin of her leg and earning several more whistles from the audience. "Then you'll spread your wings, and you'll take to the sky . . ."
Beth reveled in the heat of the stage lights on her skin, and the whistles she was earning from the audience were giving her a rush. It was only the second time she had performed for a real audience, but Beth felt as though it was something she had been born to do. She just had to try to avoid the penetrating stare of the handsome stranger at the end of the bar so she didn't mess up her set. But avoiding his gaze was easier said than done.
"Oh, Beth, you were amazing!" Tara gushed, making Beth blush even more. She laughed and shrugged.
"She's always been modest," Maggie smirked. "But she knows she was good."
"Oh, stop," Beth grinned at her sister.
"Well, I think a performance like that has definitely earned you a drink or two," Andrea chimed in, handing Beth a tall glass of champagne. Beth graciously accepted the drink.
"I oughta give you that dress to keep," Amy said, nudging Beth's shoulder. "It looks like it was meant for you."
"If someone could die from blushin', y'all would be the end of me," Beth giggled. She smoothed her hands over the red silk, loving the way it felt against her skin. She noticed someone motioning to her and realized it was the owner of the small club, Eddie. She took a swig of her champagne before handing the glass to Maggie and quickly excusing herself, making her way over to Eddie.
"Fantastic performance, sweetheart!" he exclaimed as she approached him. "Much better than last time."
"Yes, well, last time I was really nervous, and I—"
"Yeah, yeah. Listen, if you wanna make this a regular thing, I could make that happen. As long as you continue to bring a little of what you brought tonight to the table, if you know what I mean."
Beth knew he was talking about the dress and the sensual side to her act, and she almost sighed in disappointment. But regardless of what Eddie was asking, she knew she had enjoyed performing too much to say no.
"I'll think about it," she said coyly, not wanting to seem too eager. Eddie nodded.
"Good deal. Let me know what you decide. We'd love to have you again."
Beth nodded, and Eddie went back to mingling with his bar guests. She turned to head back toward her friends when she accidentally crashed into a firm chest.
"Oh, sorry!" she spluttered, looking up into the brown eyes of a blonde-haired private with a cocky smirk plastered on his face.
"No harm done," he said, his eyes shamelessly traveling down her body.
Beth flashed him a tight smile and tried to step around him, but he side-stepped her and blocked her path. She frowned and tried to go the other way, only to have the man step to that side to once again block her path.
"How about I buy you a drink, sugar?"
Beth sighed a little impatiently. "How about you let me pass?"
"Aw, c'mon," the man said. He stepped closer to her, prompting her to take a step back. "What do you say we get out of here," he continued, his hand suddenly wandering to the slit in her dress and grazing the skin of her thigh, "and get to know one another—"
He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence. A fist seemingly came out of nowhere and barreled into the blonde man's face. Beth's mouth dropped and she spun around to see that the man who had defended her honor had been none other than the handsome private from the end of the bar.
"What the fuck man?!" the blonde man yelled from where he'd been knocked to the ground.
"The lady don't want you touchin' her. I suggest that you leave her alone," the handsome stranger growled.
He looked up from the man he'd put down and met her eyes. Beth only had time to realize that they were blue before he turned away and stalked toward the door of the bar, leaving Beth dumbfounded behind him.
Please review and let me know what you think so far! I'll post the next chapter in a few days. Thank you for reading!
Also, visit my Tumblr (username ElsaEditorial) to see pictures of Bell Bomber! It was a real factory that employed lots of women during WWII. :)