Chapter 2 The Home Front

Belle sighed as she pulled her bike up to the front of her brother's main office. She pushed down her dress, fiddled with the buttons in the front and made herself stand taller and thought she perhaps could will her face not to look so much like a baby. For she was sure that was all Morris could see when he saw Belle and she hated it!

The strong smell of cigarettes wafted through both the hallway and the small office where Morris was working that day. Many times he was in the main manufacturing building right along with the workers, barking orders and looking for mistakes. Today, however, there was a pile of papers stacked on his desk, and Morris' normal grim face was pulled into a serious, extra grim look that told the world to think twice before bothering him. She fiddled with her buttons one more time before she cleared her throat and called attention to herself.

He looked up at her for a second, said nothing and went back to his papers.

'Morris?'

'What.' He still did not look up, and she could hear his pen scratching the paper in front of him.

'I'm here about Papa's birthday.'

He looked up for a moment again and almost rolled his eyes and groaned. 'Of course you do.'

'And I wanted to invite you and Cathy over tomorrow evening-and the kids, of course.'

'Of course.'

Then silence outside of the scratching sound. She waited a moment, biting her lower lip.

'So then, you'll come?' she attempted.

Another soft groan. 'I suppose I will. Though why you want to waste time and money on such a frivolity beats me. Although I suppose…' and he looked up again but this time looked at her like he was inspecting one of his products for defects or mistakes and it was all Belle could do to keep from wanting to run out the door and tell him to forget the whole thing-she didn't know how much she really wanted him there anyway. It was for her father that she planted her feet and remained where she was. '...that you don't have much else to do but that anyway. Go along with you. Some of us don't have the luxury to spend our days dawdling-shopping-making sweet things when sugar is so dear-being a busy body and whatever else it is you do.'

She really wanted to talk back to him. She really wanted to list all the ways she had volunteered since the war began, and how she had kept doing so even after graduating. She wanted to cross her arms and stick her tongue out at him above all things, but that would just concrete the idea that she was a baby and besides, he had dismissed her and as far as he was concerned, she was no longer of importance enough for him to pay attention to whether or not she had left yet.

So, she pouted, only a little, and then walked back to her bike and began the trip to the grocers.

She pulled out her ration book and smiled at the set of stamps she had for sugar. She had sacrificed eating sugar for the past few weeks and had done her best to limit it in other areas of preparing meals so that way she would have enough to make her papa a proper cake with sugar icing and everything.

'Errand day already,Miss Belle?' Mr. Clark looked up from his spectacles as he took the ration stamps from her as he rang up her groceries.

'I'm actually a day early, Mr. Clark. We are having a little party tomorrow and I need today to put everything together since tomorrow is ARC day. Have you heard from Paul?' She ended with the question she asked each week. He beamed, so it must be a good week of correspondence.

'I did, and he seems in good spirits this week, thank you for asking Miss Belle.' There had been four weeks of no word a couple of months ago and she was happy to hear that he had gone back to his consistent self. Paul had been in some danger and unable to write and for those four weeks Mr. Clark's look each week told her he hadn't heard anything from his son. For those weeks all she could do was put her hand on his arm and give a shy smile, and then let him check out her groceries in silence.

She put her few groceries in her basket and was about to head out to her last stop but heard her name being called out.

'Belles! Hey ya, Belles!'

Ruby had been standing outside of her grandmother's restaurant-smoking Belle assumed, to her grandmother's ire-and she ran over when she had seen Belle come out of Mr. Clark's grocery store.

Ruby stood in front of her, towering over her in all her beautiful gangliness. Black high waisted pants, red polka dotted shirt and hair so perfectly sculpted behind her red headband that made Belle often feel every bit of the two and a half years that separated them in age. Thankfully, Ruby never treated Belle like a baby, not like Morris, but she oozed confidence that sometimes Belle envied just a little bit.

'Y'know Granny will kill you if she smells that on you.' Belle laughed as she nodded to the little case in Ruby's hand.

'Two weeks, Belles, two weeks and it won't matter what she thinks.' Ruby responded a bit bitterly for Belle's taste. For all their quarreling she knew Ruby and her grandmother loved each other very much, however, their ways of expressing said love was often a little confusing.

At the reminder of her friend's soon departure Belle felt overwhelmingly sad all the sudden and Ruby, of course, caught it.

'Cheer up, Belles. You know I can't be like you-happy with only scrap drives and victory gardens and candlelit prayers at church.' Belle frowned. The thrown phrase stung even with its inaccuracy. This was sounding too much like Morris' sentiments for her liking. Belle was a young girl of eighteen, she would do anything for the ones giving their lives and serving, but there was only so much she could do. She couldn't say she had Ruby's drive to want to trade places with a man and fight among all the blood and mud, but she would sign up to serve as a nurse on the front lines, just like Ruby was about to do, if she could. Alas, you had to be at least 21 years old, and so Belle did what she could on the home front.

She knew Ruby was giving her the 'I have so much passion and just want to do something speech' even if her real motives had a lot to do with being out from under her grandmother's thumb and wanting to spread her wings a little. Belle knew she meant well, so she smiled and only somewhat agreed with her friend and tried not to let the hurt overtake her. It wouldn't do to quarrel with her best friend when she would be gone so soon.

'But the war will end sometime and when it's over, we'll go to dancing halls together and have a line of beaus a mile long and break at least half a dozen hearts, alright?'

'Can we get together before you leave? Do you want to come over to the house or something and just make a day of it?'

'I have the day off, Tuesday-Granny has to cater and a couple of the other girls are helping her and she told me I could have the day off to pack. I can spend half of it with you?'

Belle smiled and nodded and swallowed back a lump in her throat. Their friendship was a head scratcher to most people. Their personalities and outlooks on life were so different, yet they had been friends since high school. Ruby had trouble in school, Belle, though two grades lower, had been the reason Ruby was even able to graduate. It wasn't that Ruby wasn't smart-she was, she had always had better things to do it seemed. Her grandmother had been so happy with Belle's help and approved of any friendship that seemed to anchor her granddaughter in reality, that she had welcomed Belle with open arms. Belle didn't have a mother and had grasped hold of the sort of maternal care that Belle had longed for, for so long. Belle was now basically part of the family, and to have a member leave was as close as Belle had come to having a family member go to war.

'You'll write to me, won't ya?' Ruby suddenly looked like she had been thinking about the upcoming separation with some degree of regret. Belle nodded and all the sudden Ruby it was like she had forgotten anything sad was happening at all.

'Mail! Belle, it's been three weeks-it has to be in today, right?'

Belle bit her lower lip and nodded. 'I was planning to go to the station soon to check.'

'C'mon! I'm coming with you right now. What, it's not very far and it's my lunch break so there.' She stated matter-of-factly at Belle's attempted protests.

Belle felt a little nervous walking towards the station. Even though it had been three weeks, there was no guarantee that the soldier would have written or that even if he had it would have arrived. She had wondered many times how the man would have taken her letter. Would he have been offended that he was singled out as someone needing such a project, would he laugh at it? Ruby had taken her mention of the project and squealed. Ruby with all her rashness and boisterous personality did love a good mystery, intrigue, and had watched enough romances to annoy Belle to bits with her ideas. Belle was curious about who would be the recipient of such a letter, and her curiosity was often a point of annoyance to others, but for once, Ruby seemed to be just as taken with the idea, if not more.

Exiting the building, Belle waved the letter towards Ruby who had stayed with the bike.

'He did write! Oh Belles! C'mon, c'mon, open it, open it.'

Belle really wanted to open it in the privacy of her home and think over it at her leisure, but she knew better than to argue after Ruby had walked all that way with her. So, she took her so slightly quivering hands and opened up the envelope.

Belle bit her lower lip as she took in the ramrod straight penmanship. Each letter seemed perfectly even and if she didn't know that he wouldn't have had access to a typewriter, she would have sworn he would have had to use some sort of machine to get such perfect handwriting. A single loop graced the letter he used in his first name. Corporal Roger Gold.

'Corporal-Belle, a corporal.' Belle didn't know much about the ranks of officers, and she imagined that Ruby didn't either-it just sounded nice.

She gave her friend a look and then went on to read the letter out loud

'Miss French,

Thank you for your letter. It was both legible and enjoyable to read, and if you desire to continue a correspondence, I am not opposed to the idea, however, I do not want you to feel obliged.

I also do not mind hearing about your domestic pursuits as long as you don't go in great detail over your food. I just spent an hour trying not to think about what I'd rather be eating besides bread and coffee. And since your thoughts put you in mind of poetry, I'll add what poem comes to my mind.

Ye Pow'rs wha mak mankind your care,

And dish them out their bill o' fare,

Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware

That jaups in luggies;

But, if ye wish her gratefu' prayer,

Gie her a Haggis!

So if you please, do not mention those domestic pursuits, but give me any other mundane detail you please and I'll be happy for the diversion.

Your friend,

Col. Roger Gold'

'First, your Scottish accent is terrible. Second-Haggis? Does that mean he's Scottish?'

Belle smiled shyly and shrugged. 'I should think so. He knows his Burns, which makes me happy, though I imagine it's quite the popular poem among Scots.'

'Mmmmhmmm, face it, you were beaming from the first line.'

She couldn't help it. Any of the young boys she had met, or the ones that she had graduated with had always chuckled at her ability to quote from her favorite authors. She had a journal filled with all her favorites and was always trying to insert them into everyday life, to the eyerolls of many, even from so dear a friend as Ruby, who didn't understand why she would even read books anymore when every year they were coming out with more and more movie versions of them. Belle would always assure her that there was no comparison, and so kept her enjoyments to herself. She had added that line in her letter to the soldier because she had been outdoors when writing it, and her heart had been so full of the beauty around her and lamenting on how life had to change (she had just heard that Ruby planned to go and be trained for a front line nurse and that poem had seemed to exactly fit), and it just felt right to add it there. She expected no poetry in return, but she had to admit, she was happy it was there.

She shooed her friend away and went back home to read it a few more times before she began the cake that she planned to make for her father's party.

Author's Note:Historical notes: When the US first entered the war, they were taking even untrained nurses, but by this time in 1943 they took girls from 19-40 with no children under the age of 14 and they were training them before they went over to the war front.

Belle mentions some places and ways she volunteers and these were very common volunteer efforts that the government encouraged.
Poem is 'Address to Haggis' by Robert Burns.
I will explain how he is Scottish yet in the American Army at some point :)
Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think!