A World War I Vet’s Story

In College I had participated in all the war work open to students (largely, sewing for Belgian Orphans) but being young, and taking myself pretty seriously, I felt that if I could once get a full-time war job I might turn the world upside down, pronto, and bring back the relaxing, happy days of peace.

Perhaps I suffered from a Jeanne d’ Arc complex, and visualized myself riding forth on a white horse on a great mission for Peace. And, being romantic as well as young, I may have got my white horse symbol from “Lady Godiva.” Who knows?

Whatever was back of my seriousness, the minute I had my diploma safely tucked under an arm, I started a mad search for a war job in Washington.

My parents were often disturbed by my precipitations, and my impatience with preliminaries. Mother wished that I would get a good rest from college and then begin to think of a job. Father saw no reason why I could not find plenty of war work in Richmond. He warned me that Washington, in wartime, was a dangerous place for a girl, and that if I went to the capital city, I should “expect to be insulted on every street-corner.”

To ease these fears somewhat, I agreed to stay temporarily with friends of the family who lived on the Virginia side of the Potomac. That would mean that my address would still be Virginia, rather than Washington.

Also I was to follow a clue I had for a civilian position in the Army with the Military Intelligence Division, and M.I.D. had a rather dignified, highbrow sound to the family.

Another safeguard they arranged was that I be met at the Washington station by a young Ensign, whom I had properly met in Virginia, at the home of a cousin. With such escort, the first day, at least, should be safe from the street-corner peril.

So I set forth — in a railway coach, instead of on a white horse — but with the serious intention of making over the world. – article.

The full story is at the link above. It includes finding out what was meant by “drills” when those young women were told they had to participate in drill exercises. She and a friend hid behind bushes and watched while the other six girls went walking around the field. The uniforms they were given were not tailored to fit them and, in her view, were kind of “dumpy”, so most of the time, they all wore their own clothes. She passed the requirements for CPO, but it was toward the end of The Great War and word came that no more promotions to CPO were going to happen.

As there were no barracks for women at the time, she had to pay for housing and food. She recalls that the pay was so skimpy, she had to borrow from friends. I can relate to that because in 1967, E-1 pay was $97/month before taxes.  (Oh, heck, I still signed up. Don’t get me started….)

It’s a good recall and worth your time, so get your favorite beverage and some snacks and enjoy the trip back in time.