Chapter Eight Ava

EIGHT : AVA

TULLAHOMA, TENNESSEE

JANUARY 1942

Camp Forrest was enormous.

I slowly drove through Gate No. 1, a heavily guarded entrance, with more nervous excitement than I'd felt in ages. Last week I received a telephone call from the woman in charge of the secretarial pool at the military installation and was offered a job working for the doctor in charge of the station hospital, Dr. Colonel Hew Foster. She'd told me to report to the hospital administration building promptly at "o-seven hundred" Monday morning. I thanked her, hung up the phone, and did a little jig. I had a job. A good job. In that moment, the future didn't look quite as frightening as it had a month ago.

Gertrude's unsmiling face filled my memory as I drove past the plain white building where I'd filled out the job application. She remained resentful that I'd accepted the position.

"You should be here, on your husband's farm, helping your husband's mother. Not gallivanting around a military base with hundreds of men." She had sniffled. "My son's been dead less than two months, but he's already forgotten by his widow."

Nothing I said changed her mind. Even this morning, with her glare following me out the kitchen door, I'd stood my ground. "We need the money, Gertrude," I reminded her for the umpteenth time. "Richard would be proud of me."

The slamming of the door was her response.

Now, with sunshine streaming through the windshield of my old Ford, I drove along streets alive with activity despite the early hour.

I'd received a packet of paperwork in the mail the day after I accepted the job that contained forms to sign, mostly regarding confidentiality, safety, and such. A handbook for Camp Forrest secretaries gave me an idea of what was expected—what I should wear, how to address officers, and the like. Although I'd worked in business offices in Nashville, I had a feeling working at Camp Forrest would be like entering another world.

The packet also included a map of the 85,000-acre installation and instructions on where I was allowed to go as well as areas off-limits to civilians. I'd studied the rendering of the gigantic cantonment for hours, sipping a cup of tea and making notations, praying I never accidentally ventured where I didn't belong. What had once been Camp Peay, a small summer training facility for the Tennessee National Guard situated on a little over a thousand acres, was now one of the largest military camps in the country, thanks to the onset of Hitler's war.

I'd learned that construction began in late 1940. Barely more than a year later, a full-fledged military base had sprung up out of the rich Tennessee farmland. The main thoroughfares were paved, but there were plenty of dirt roads and plank-board sidewalks, filled with men in uniform on foot or in military vehicles. I passed a tall water tower, painted with a checkerboard pattern, and remembered reading the base had its own water plant and sewage treatment facility.

I glanced at the map on the seat beside me. It had hundreds of buildings drawn in technical style, but to see them for myself took my breath. I'd always been good with numbers in school, and the staggering statistics ran through my mind: five hundred two-story barracks to house the soldiers, along with thirty officer quarters. One-hundred-plus mess halls, dozens of day halls, a library, post exchanges, chapels, theaters, warehouses, guardhouses, and even a 9,000-square-foot laundry facility where civilian women were employed. Thousands of Army-green Jeeps, trucks, and even tanks were housed in areas of the base where I was not allowed, all waiting to be shipped overseas. I'd read about acres and acres of training fields, complete with a mock German village, and a huge induction center where scores of young men like my Richard passed through every day, preparing to go to Europe.

I wound my way through unfamiliar streets, looking for the buildings that comprised the hospital complex among the many plain white structures that all looked the same. After two wrong turns, I came to a long line of one-story buildings. Military ambulances, with red crosses on a white background, sat in front. I parked at the far end where I'd been instructed. A glance in the rearview mirror assured me my lipstick was still in place. I'd taken special care with my appearance this morning, another fact that irked Gertrude.

A day spent behind a typewriter doesn't require makeup and a fancy dress.

While her disapproving words were theoretically accurate, I knew a good first impression was vital. I'd never worked in a place as big as Camp Forrest, nor had I made as much money as I'd been promised. This job was key to unlocking the door to my future, and I'd do just about anything to make sure I kept it.

With a gulp of air, I climbed from the car and smoothed my skirt. The dark gray wool gabardine suit I'd purchased the day after I accepted the job made me feel like a professional. Although I preferred brighter colors, I was a widow in mourning. Gertrude hadn't approved of my desire to make a splash on my first day, but I knew she couldn't find fault in the ensemble.

A pleasant-faced young woman greeted me when I entered the building. Like the administration office where I'd completed the job application, the space I entered was spare. Four desks filled the room, with two occupied by young women busy at their typewriters, surrounded by bare walls and plank wood floors.

"I'm Bren Marsh." She smiled. "Colonel Foster isn't in at the moment, but he left instructions for me to get you settled."

She led me over to the unoccupied desk. A typewriter sat in the center, along with a stack of files next to it.

"This is your area. You're welcome to bring a framed photo from home, but I must warn you—your desk will be crammed with paperwork. I wouldn't advise filling it up with too many personal items. The colonel's office is through there," she continued as she pointed to a closed door behind the desk. "You'll work directly with him. You've probably already been told, but Colonel Foster oversees the entire hospital, so you can imagine how busy you'll be. His previous secretary couldn't keep up with the workload, so she quit."

I suddenly felt unsure of myself. "May I ask why you or one of the other girls didn't fill the vacancy?"

"We're just general secretaries. You must have some special skills since they chose you over all the others."

Oh dear.

I thought back to the day I applied for the job. Had I exaggerated my qualifications on the application? I couldn't recall answering any of the questions dishonestly, but now I wondered if I'd overestimated my abilities. I never dreamed I would work for the officer in charge of the hospital. A simple clerk, like Bren and the others, is all I'd had in mind.

"The colonel should arrive within the hour. You might take that time to get your desk organized the way you'd like it. You won't have time later. Let me know if you need anything. Oh, the ladies' room is in the adjoining building."

With that, Bren returned to her own desk and immediately went to work.

The small room echoed with the clacking and clanging of typewriters. After eight months of living on a horse farm in the country, I'd grown used to days filled with peace and quiet. The noise and constant company would take some getting used to.

I took off my pillbox hat and gloves and laid them on the desktop. Seated at the back of the room, I had a view of everyone who might come and go, including my boss. The fact that he was a colonel made me nervous. Visions of a war-hardened man flashed across my mind, silly as it may be. What was Colonel Foster like? Was he so demanding that he ran off the previous secretary? Had I bitten off more than I could chew?

All my questions would be answered soon enough. In the meantime, I took Bren's advice and organized the supplies in my desk. I'd just completed the task when the front door opened, letting in bright morning sunshine. A tall man in an Army-green uniform filled the doorway. The sound of typing immediately silenced.

"Good morning, Colonel," the three young women chimed in unison.

"Good morning, ladies." He closed the door, tucked his hat under his arm, and moved to stand in front of Bren's desk. "Miss Marsh, I have a meeting at thirteen-hundred hours with Major Williams. I'll need the supplies report so I can go over it with him."

"Yes, sir." Bren turned to me and smiled. "Sir, this is your new secretary, Mrs. Delaney."

The man's gaze landed on me, his expression indicating he hadn't noticed my presence until now. For a long, uncomfortable moment, he simply stared at me. Finally, as though remembering his manners, he cleared his throat.

"Mrs. Delaney. Welcome aboard."

"Thank you," I said, a nervous wobble in my voice. "I'm happy to be here."

He didn't smile. "I hope you still feel that way at the end of the day."

The three young women giggled and went back to work.

Colonel Foster made his way to my desk. "Bring a notebook and pen, and we'll get started." He disappeared into his office without another word.

My stomach knotted, but Bren turned to offer an encouraging grin over her shoulder.

"He's really very nice when you get to know him," she whispered.

I hoped she was right. Thankfully I knew exactly where to find a notepad and pen and hurried to follow him. I started to close the door, as I'd always done when meeting with my boss in Nashville, but the colonel stopped me.

"Leave it open."

I did.

"Have a seat." He motioned me to one of two wooden chairs in front of a desk that was covered in neat stacks of files and papers.

I settled in the chair, pen poised to take notes, when he said, "Tell me about yourself."

The request caught me off guard. What did he want to know? "I... um... I worked as a secretary in Nashville. For an insurance company."

"What brought you to Tullahoma?"

"My husband grew up here." I paused. I hadn't talked about Richard to anyone other than Gertrude, but she suffered her own deep grief and had no desire to understand mine. While I'd rather keep my personal life private, this military man was now my boss and was entitled to know the basics. "He died at Pearl Harbor."

A look of compassion crossed the colonel's face. "I'm sorry for your loss." He looked out the window. "A good friend of mine was killed at Pearl. John and I attended medical school together. He joined the Navy and I joined the Army. He was tending the wounded when a Japanese bomb struck his ship."

Only the sound of typing from the next room filled the space between us. Knowing the colonel had lost a friend reminded me that he was human. It took away some of the apprehension I'd felt since he entered the building. Although he had a commanding presence, I appreciated this small glimpse of his softer side.

He turned to face me again. "As you're no doubt aware, Camp Forrest has only been in operation since the spring of '41. We've had much to accomplish in a short amount of time. In our first month, over one thousand patients were treated here at the hospital. Now, with troops heading to Europe every day, I expect we will begin to receive wounded from overseas soon. My previous secretary was woefully inadequate. She couldn't keep up."

I swallowed.

"What I need, Mrs. Delaney," he leaned forward, his expression stern, "is someone who will work hard, ask questions, and follow orders."

My mouth went dry. "I understand, sir."

"Very well." He reached for a large stack of files and handed them to me. "These personnel files need updating. We've had so many doctors and nurses coming and going, I need to be certain of each person's qualifications and experience. It's imperative we give our servicemen the best care we possibly can, and that means positioning our staff where their skills and knowledge are best utilized."

I nodded in agreement.

"This will be a time-consuming project, but it will also give you the opportunity to become familiar with the hospital and staff. Can I count on you to have it completed by week's end, Mrs. Delaney?"

"You can, sir."

For the first time since our meeting, he offered the slightest smile. "I can be a bit of a curmudgeon at times, but you'll find I'm fair."

He stood, and I did too. "I appreciate the opportunity, sir. I won't let you down."

He inclined his head. "You may close the door on your way out."

I did as I was instructed, then returned to my desk.

Bren hurried over. "How did it go?"

"Good, I think. He gave me these personnel files to update by the end of the week, but I must admit I'm not sure how to go about it."

Bren glanced at her wristwatch. "How about I give you a tour of the hospital complex and introduce you to the principal chief nurse. Captain Leonard is a jewel, and she'll gladly help if she can."

"Thank you, so much, Miss Marsh. I truly appreciate it."

"Call me Bren. And, if you don't mind, we secretaries will call you Ava when it's just us."

We put on our coats and walked out into warm sunshine. Snow was predicted by the end of the week, so it was nice to get outside while we could.

"How long have you worked at Camp Forrest?" I asked.

"I started last summer. My father is retired from the Army, so when he heard Camp Forrest was hiring, he encouraged me to apply. It was a quiet place to work at first, but after Pearl Harbor, everything changed."

I knew exactly what she meant.

We walked to the building adjacent to the administration building and climbed a set of wooden steps. I followed Bren around like a puppy, trying to take notes and remember names and locations, but with sixty-eight buildings and hundreds of staff, I soon gave up.

We saw the operating room, X-ray room, pharmacy, outpatient clinic, a dental clinic, and even a women's clinic. Some of the buildings housed patient wards, with two thousand beds in all. A large kitchen and dining hall occupied a separate building, and Bren laughingly declared the food better than the meals she ate at her boardinghouse in town.

We found Captain Leonard in her office in the last building we visited. The older woman wore a nurse's uniform rather than the military garb I'd expected. Bren introduced me, declared me in capable hands, and bid us farewell. When I explained my mission to the captain, she offered a sympathetic smile.

"My dear, you best get used to this task. Our staff changes with the wind these days."

She took the first file off the stack and pulled out a form with typed information. "See here." She pointed to a box in the top right corner of the page. "This number represents the building where this nurse is assigned. Here is where you'll find the employee's job title—nurse, orderly, doctor, and the like." She handed the folder back to me. "Our staff is quite busy, so it would be best if you tried to limit the need to interrupt their work as much as possible."

I assured her I would do my best and left the office. Back outside, I glanced to my right then my left. Where should I begin? I had nearly one hundred people to track down. How would I find them if I wasn't allowed to make inquiries? More importantly, what if I couldn't complete this assignment by week's end, as Colonel Foster asked?

With the beginnings of panic gnawing my stomach, I opened the same file the captain had used as an example and scanned the information. It was for a nurse working in the surgical building, located at the opposite end of the complex. Was she on duty today? I had no way of knowing.

My shoulders sagged. My feet were already complaining, thanks to the heeled pumps I'd worn to match my "make a good first impression" outfit. The excitement I felt when I arrived on base quickly evaporated into frustration. There was nothing to do but head back to the administration building and hope Bren had some suggestions of how I should go about my task.

One thing was certain.

I couldn't fail at this assignment.

My future depended on it.