Kit arrived at the New Federal Building in New Orleans, Louisiana, which was the headquarters of the Eight Naval District, and forced herself to give the young woman behind the counter a cheerful smile as she handed over her paperwork. She'd come straight from the train station, having just disembarked after an arduous trip from Des Moines and she was exhausted. The sights, sounds, and smells of the bustling old southern city had instantly assailed and somewhat shocked her mid-western mind, but she'd shaken it off. She was here to do a job.
"Ah yes," the clerk said, after briefly scanning the papers, "You're the reporter from the Cincinnati Register."
"Yes, ma'am," Kit replied, unable to keep weariness from creeping into her voice.
The woman smiled sympathetically. "You've had a long trip, am I right?"
"I just came from Des Moines, ma'am" Kit answered, then sighed, "I don't think it took as long as it felt like though. The sailor next to me kept bugging me for a date. He just couldn't get it into his thick skull that I have a boyfriend."
The clerk rolled her eyes and huffed, "It does seem like sailors have less of a reputation if they didn't act like they'd never seen a female after they get off their ships—notwithstanding their months and months at sea." Then she snapped back to business and pointed down the hall, "Ensign Landon was especially thrilled that we chose her to speak on behalf of the WAVES. She's waiting in the third room on your left."
"Thank you, ma'am, I'm excited to be here too."
"But, mind you, you only have a hour." the clerk called out as Kit hurried down the hall, "Now that the war is over, the girls will be heading home soon."
"Yes ma'am," Kit replied, turning around briefly, "I knew that I wouldn't have long. Thank you."
She pushed the door open and beheld a tall strikingly lovely brunette with green eyes. Ensign Landon's long wavy hair was tightly penned up and her uniform looked as crisp as the day it was made. She extended her hand to welcome Kit with a gracious smile, "Please, call me Jamie."
"Hello, I'm Kit."
The two women sat down and Kit, as she had done in Des Moines, asked her first question almost before she'd opened her pen.
"The acronym WAVES has a different meaning than one might think of when one thinks of an acronym for a military unit. Will you explain it?"
"Sure," Jamie replied, "It stands for Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service. That implies, of course, that the Navy brought us in due to the extraordinary times that the last four years have presented, but that's not really the whole story. The Navy accepted women into their ranks thirty years ago too, during the First World War. In that war we were only allowed to be in the enlisted ranks, but we were allowed to be officers too this time around."
"The first female officer," she continued, "was commissioned three years ago in August—that's Lt. Commander Mildred McAfee. She was President at Wellesley College before the war, but agreed to come on and be our first director. As I understand it, she's going to go back to Wellesley once her time in the Navy is done."
"I just came from Des Moines," Kit said, "where I interviewed a woman who served in the WAC. She said that Congress passed special legislation to create that unit. Is that true for WAVES?"
Jamie nodded seriously, "Yes, indeed. First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt wanted to have a counterpart for the WAC within the Navy. She was very instrumental in pushing Congress to act and the WAVES was created just two months after the WAC. President Roosevelt signed the law on July 30, 1942 and within the first year, 27,000 girls signed up. By the end of it, there were 84,000 WAVES—8,000 of whom were officers. That comes out to be 2.5 percent of the Navy's wartime personal strength."
"Our unit," she continued, "went through much of the same initial opposition as our sisters in the Army—both from the general public and people in office—but, like them, our situation changed once there was a crisis. I think necessity breeds tolerance just as much as it breeds invention."
"WAVES, unlike our sisters in the Army, have always been a part of the Navy," Jamie said, talking on, "we were never an auxiliary unit. Officially, we're called the Women's Reserve, but calling us WAVES was what stuck. I always thought it was great—if not sort of funny—that they came up with an acronym like WAVES for a Navy unit. Isn't it interesting how words can be put together to make acronyms?"
"It sure is," Kit laughed, "It sort of makes me wonder how long they spent creating it—it's so perfect." Then she asked, "The WAC in Des Moines said that their unit was very popular to sign with, I take it that you'd say the same about the WAVES,"
"You bet!" Jamie enthused, her eyes sparkling, "We were created, similarly to the WAC, to free up the boys for sea duty. During the first year, the WAVES enrolled over three times the numbers that were expected during the legislative debates."
"In fact," she continued, "the number of guys freed up during that first year was so tremendous that entire staffs of men disappeared from land-based stations. The Navy estimates that those first WAVES freed up enough guys to outfit one battleship, two large aircraft carriers, two heavy cruisers, four light cruisers, and fifteen destroyers."
"Simply amazing!" Kit said, unable to think of anything else to say.
Jamie continued, "In 1943, the Navy, with Congressional approval, lifted the limitations that WAVES had in regard to pay or promotion. That made us feel really good—we felt like we were a part of things then, for better or worse."
"For better or worse?" Kit asked.
Jamie laughed good-naturedly, "Sure, the Navy is a tough place to work. Personally, I've thrived in its structure and discipline, but if someone isn't up to it, then they'd better not sign up. We run a tight ship—pun intended."
"What kind of regulations did you have to adhere too?"
"Oh, the same things as the guys," Jamie answered, "only with a feminine slant. Oh, and surprise inspections were rampant!"
"Let's see," she said, thinking back, "There was our general appearance. We had to keep our hair short—above our collar—and they wanted us to keep our do's feminine. We were always encouraged to wear skirts and gloves. Just last year, Mrs. Josephine Forrestal—she's the wife of Assistant Secretary of the Navy, James Forrestal—asked the fashion designer Main Rousseau Bocher to create some stylish designs for us and he donated his designs to the Navy. We were all issued four uniforms, summer grays, summer dress whites, working blues, and dress blues."
"Then there was our housing accommodations." she said. Her green eyes widened at her memories, "At first they had dozens of us living together with shared shower and toilet facilities. There was also a Master at Arms living with us, just to make sure that the Navy's standards were adhered too."
"But thanks be to the WAVES leadership, they got approval for us to live with just two to four girls sharing the same space."
"Oh, I bet that made you feel better!" Kit said, with understanding.
"It sure did. That was a real morale boost! And, the best part is, it ended up proving what the Bureau of Medicine and Surgery was saying all along; the fewer the people that have to share the same space, the healthier those people will be."
"In big cities, like New York City or the Capitol," Jamie went on, "We lived in existing hotels and apartment buildings and used their facilities for dining and exercise just like any other guest. For most of the war, I served in Washington DC and shared an old apartment with three other girls in Georgetown. WAVES made up 75% of the personal at the Washington communications center."
"When I was in Des Moines," Kit said, "the WAC told me that the Army let them serve overseas, is this true with the WAVES?"
"No, our Army sisters did get to travel a good deal farther than we did. Generally, we stayed in the continental US, but toward the end, they started sending us out a little more, to the Alaska and Hawaii and the Caribbean."
"It's understandable, really," she went on, "since the Navy fights at sea and WAVES didn't train to be sailors—in fact, we didn't do any combat training." She smirked slightly and shrugged, "They didn't want us spending endless weeks on ships with a bunch of guys."
"My best friend, Mary Ellen," she said, "went to Hawaii last year with the first group of WAVES to go there. They landed at Pearl Harbor on January sixth." She laughed, "I was jealous back then, even though she rode over on a troop transport ship. Man, Hawaii."
After a reflective pause, Jamie added, "I've heard, through the grapevine, that the Navy was going to send us to other places too, but the war is over now." She shrugged again, with a relived smile, "Personally, I'd rather the war be over than travel anywhere."
"Since WAVES didn't travel overseas much," Kit asked, "did that limit the unit in the amount of help you could give to our guys at sea?"
"Oh no!" Jamie said, looking offended, "We did just as much as any other women's unit to help win the war."
"Thirty years ago," she explained, calming down again, "Women did secretarial and clerical work in the Navy. Our rank, in the last war, was that of yeoman—or more popularly, yeomanette—and we started out doing the same jobs this time around. We took dictations, prepared reports, operated duplicating machines—those make copies of things, kept the sailors' personal records, and handled all the paperwork in regard to enlistments, transfers, promotions, and discharges—all through the Navy's filing system."
"I was a yeoman in Washington for most of this war, but my duties occasionally sent me to other places around the country."
"But, as I said before," she continued, "we got to do a good deal more this time around. To help Navy pilots, were trained as Aerographer's Mates, Aviation Machinist's Mates, and Aviation Metalsmiths."
"The Aerographer's Mates directed shore-based Naval Meteorology Observatory stations, took upper air soundings—that is, they measured the temperature, speed, and direction of wind currents above eighteen thousand feet and computed the data. Those girls were also trained to make weather observations, draw weather charts, and read weather codes—those are internationally recognized four-digit numbers that are used to report local weather conditions around the globe."
"The Aviation Machinist's Mates assembled and serviced planes. They learned how to splice wiring, make small parts, and make a plane's landing gear sea worthy—landing on the rolling deck of a ship is, of course, different than landing on solid ground, so the gear is treated differently. Those girls had to know the principles and theories of flying to do their job."
"The Aviation Metalsmiths repaired the planes metalworks—the radiators, pipe connections, instruments, and joints. They learned to build, bend, braze, weld, and electroplate pipes and how to use both welding outfits and hand or power tools."
"Of course, we can't forget about the guys jumping out of the planes, can we?" Jamie said smiling quickly, "WAVES were trained as parachute riggers for both personal and cargo."
"The girls that ran the radios and the telegraphers had to know the Navy's regulations on communication and security. They learned all the frequencies that the Navy uses and how type Morse Code. Their jobs were to operate their offices, send and receive messages, encrypt and decrypt codes, and repair their equipment when necessary."
"The WAVES in the medical department weren't simply more nurses. As Pharmacist's Mates, WAVES kept track of hospital and medical supplies and were trained to do minor surgery and first-aid and to prepare and administer simple medicines. Those girls had to have a rudimentary knowledge of anatomy, medicine, hygiene, and nursing, as well as know how to run an office."
"The Navy also trained us to do specialized duties. We operated the control towers, trained aviation gunners and trained pilots as link instructors—do you know what that is?"
"Yes," Kit replied, "The WAC in Des Moines told me."
"I figured that," Jamie said, then continued, "We used and maintained accounting machines—or other things pertinent to sales and pay within the Navy—and ran the Navy's post office. They also taught us to do everything relevant to photography and motion picture making too."
"Our cooks were our own. We WAVES handled cooking and serving meals on land, and we kept track of the food supplies headed out to sea too." Then she smiled at some memory, and added, "And, of course, we had the opportunity to train to be Masters-at-Arms."
She smirked, "The Navy is like a medieval castle, I suppose. We're fairly self-sustaining and we have our own way of doing things that's separate from the people on the other side of the wall, so to speak."
"We also got to work in the Navy's JAG Corps" Jamie continued, getting back to her explanation, "That's Judge Advocate General, or the military's judicial system. Each branch has a JAG Corp, although the Navy and Marines share one. The WAVES that worked in JAG got to be a part of some extraordinary times these last four years, because war rules are different than peacetime rules and it seems like, with every new war, new rules are made. Now that hostilities have ended, JAG will be at the forefront in the prosecution of the people charged with war crimes."
"Of course," she went on, "a lot of the things that I've talked about require more classroom time than some of the things that WAVES were eligible to do. There were a good many girls assigned to a duty station straight out of recruitment school. Those girls held the rank of Seaman, Second Class. They got to camouflage planes, be messenger and escorts, file clerks, truck drivers, line assistants, and comptometer operators."
"They also got to be commercial artists, assistant printers, bookkeepers, librarians, map makers, Multilith operators, and typists."
"Still others became Photostat operators, teletype operators, mechanical darftman, statistical clerk, lithographers, and research assistants."
"That is a lot!" Kit agreed, then asked, "The WAC in Des Moines said that their unit was segregated, was this true of the WAVES?"
"No, we were fully integrated," Jamie replied, "We didn't accept any women of color at first, but since last November one in every thirty-seven girls that has signed up has been a woman of color. It's quite a feat for such a short time—less than a year—but the total number was just a tad under the cap set by the Navy at ten percent."
Kit glanced at the clock on the wall and stiffened. Where had their time gone?
"Wow, look at the time," she muttered, having enjoyed her time with the personable WAVES Ensign.
"Oh!" Jamie said, "Is it already time to go? I feel like we just got started."
"Me too," Kit replied, "But I do have time for one more question—and it's my favorite. What did you do on your most interesting day in the WAVES?"
"Oh, that's easy!" Jamie said, her eyes lighting up, "In 1942, my duties took me to the parachute school at the Naval Air Station in Lakehurst New Jersey. I saw one of our parachute riggers, a woman named Kathleen Robertson, actually test one of the chutes. Up till then, testing the chutes was the guy's responsibility, but Kathleen impressed her superiors so much that last year they started letting the WAVES have a go at it, if they wanted too. It took a while, but I enjoyed hearing that Kathleen convinced them that girls could jump."
Author's Notes: Like before, the factual stuff in this chapter is true, but I made the other stuff up—except Jamie's answer about her most interesting day. That part actually happened.
Jamie Landon got her name from the two main characters in Nicolas Sparks' book, A Walk to Remember. I don't really know where I came up with Mary Ellen's name, but I suppose it could have come from a woman who lives in the same Retirement Home as my grandmother.
A Look Back: The WAVES, unlike what the acronym implies, didn't disband after the war ended. Instead, with the Passage of the Women's Armed Services Integration Act in 1948, they became a permanent unit until 1978, when male and female Navy units were integrated.
