‘I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,’ said Amber, the youngest pilot of the group. Her voice wavered as she spoke, and May knew how she was feeling; her own bravado was more for the benefit of the other girls than a reflection of how she felt about their first real test. They’d waited all this time: so many months of her petitioning for women to have the right to assist the war effort in the sky, answering questions and refusing to take no for an answer, and then preparing the pilots to join her. Now they were finally going to be playing their part. This was it.
‘See you soon,’ May said, touching Amber’s arm as she passed her, swallowing down a stomach-curdling wave of anxiety. ‘You’ll be great up there. We all will, and it’s about time we proved exactly how we can help to turn the tide on this war.’
She winked at Betty and waved at the other girls before following the mechanic to her waiting plane. She’d been unsure whether to wait until last and wave her squadron off, or go first and lead the others into the air, but she’d decided that being first up would give the others confidence and cement her place as their leader.
The plane loomed, and Benjamin held out a hand to help her. She took it gratefully and climbed up, knowing she was being watched by every single male mechanic and ground crew member. Settling into the seat she took a deep breath and smiled as her gaze settled on the controls before her, zipping her flying jacket as high as it would go to stave off the cold and pulling her goggles down over her eyes. She was grateful for the leather hat keeping her head warm, and the fact that her big boots were lined with fleece.
You’re with me, Johnny, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut and steeling herself as a wave of emotion shuddered through her, tightening in her chest like a knife piercing her heart. His death would not be for nothing. Her big brother had given his life fighting, and she was going to make certain that every plane the army needed was delivered to them until the day the Germans surrendered.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I’m so, so sorry, Johnny.’
The loss, so recent and raw, gaped like an open wound inside her. But she was sure that however many weeks or months passed, or however long he was gone, it would never get any easier. And she still couldn’t forgive herself for the way they’d parted, her so angry that he was allowed to fly for their country and she wasn’t.
May sat tall, took a deep breath and put her hands on the controls, pushing down her emotions as she focused on her job, forcing Johnny to the back of her heart.
It was time to fly high and, freezing cold winds or not, she couldn’t wait. Johnny’s wings might have been taken from him, but she was doing this for him. She knew that wherever he was, she was making him proud: she was making it more likely that someone else’s brother could make it home. Their boys needed these planes and nothing was going to stop her from delivering them.
PART ONE
CHAPTER ONE
WASHINGTON DC, UNITED STATES,
LATE 1941
LIZZIE
Lizzie dug her nails into her palms as she waited to be called in to see Mrs Roosevelt. She was worried her heart might beat straight out of her chest if she had to wait a moment longer, but it had already been fifteen minutes and there had been no movement since she’d been greeted and invited to sit. Her father had told her to be patient and gracious, and she was determined to be quiet and not move an inch until she was asked.
‘Miss Elizabeth Dunlop?’
Lizzie leapt up when she heard her full name, quickly smoothing down her skirt as she fixed her smile. A woman had appeared from behind a door and was now beckoning for her to follow.
‘Sorry to keep you waiting,’ the woman said pleasantly. ‘Come right this way.’
Lizzie followed, surprised to find that her stomach was doing cartwheels. She’d been preparing what to say for weeks now, but knowing that this might be her one chance to convince someone influential to assist her was weighing heavily on her mind. She gingerly patted her hair, checking that her up-do was still in place, hoping she hadn’t overdone her curls and make-up for such an important meeting.
‘Look everyone in the eye when they speak to you, but in a respectful way. Listen to them and give them your full attention,’ her father had said. ‘And whatever you do, don’t go interrupting anyone! You need to think carefully about every answer you give, Lizzie. No one likes a smart mouth or a know-it-all.’
The door opened and Lizzie stepped in, her father’s words filling her mind. Then she stopped in her tracks, taking in the scene in front of her: three people looked up, and only one of them was the woman she’d expected to meet. She immediately forgot all about her appearance.
‘Elizabeth! It’s so wonderful to see you again.’
Lizzie swallowed and propelled herself forward, forcing her feet to move and her mouth not to gape. ‘Mrs Roosevelt, thank you so much for inviting me to lunch.’
She stepped into an embrace as the First Lady gave her a warm hug and a kiss to the cheek. They’d met twice before at various events, and both times she’d got the impression of immeasurable warmth. Today was no different.
‘I could hardly not invite you after your last letter,’ Mrs Roosevelt said with a laugh. ‘Your powers of persuasion are rather impressive. And, please, while you’re in my home, you’re to call me Eleanor.’
‘Eleanor,’ Lizzie said with a nod, smiling as her hostess stepped back and extended an arm.
‘Gentlemen, I’m pleased to introduce you to Miss Elizabeth Dunlop, the delightful young woman I’ve been telling you so much about.’
Lizzie held herself together as first the president rose and then the man in uniform beside him. She didn’t know a great deal about military ranks, but for this man to be seated beside the president and sharing lunch with him, he must be extremely important.
‘Lovely to meet you, Miss Dunlop.’
‘Mr President, the honour is all mine.’
‘My wife insisted that I clear time in my schedule to meet with you,’ he said, one eyebrow raised as he spoke. Lizzie wasn’t sure if it was a sign of amusement or not, but she guessed the president was too busy to mock anyone by making time to take lunch. ‘This is General Henry Arnold. He’s as curious as I am about this concept of women fliers, so I thought it best he join us.’
Lizzie’s face was burning as she exchanged pleasantries with the general and sat down at the table, following the first lady’s lead. Her father had talked about General ‘Hap’ Arnold, and she couldn’t believe he’d come to meet her. Someone appeared with iced tea, and before long both men and Eleanor had their eyes trained on her. She was desperate to take a sip of tea; her mouth was parched as she tried to remember everything she wanted to say, but they were looking at her expectantly. For goodness’ sake, she was about to share her ideas with the president himself!
‘Miss Dunlop, tell us more about your thoughts on women fliers,’ General Arnold said, taking the lead and shifting in his seat. Lizzie wasn’t sure what to make of him yet, but the fact that he was waiting for her to speak was a good sign. ‘I’m intrigued by what Eleanor has told me of your ideas so far, and I understand you’ve written quite a few letters to her on the topic. But I’d like to hear it from you.’
Lizzie sat up straighter, keeping her shoulders square and reminding herself not to speak too fast. This was her one chance and she wasn’t going to waste it.
‘I’m not sure if either you or Mr President are aware that we have almost three thousand women with pilot’s licences here in America, according to government records. Many of these women would love to assist the military in the case of our country joining the war, including myself. I see our potential role as being non-combat pilots supporting the military.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I believe women fliers are capable of anything.’
It had been almost two years since she’d first started pushing the idea, and to finally be talking about it with someone who could make it happen was almost impossible to believe.
‘And this suppo
rt you’re thinking of – it includes the ferrying of planes?’ the general asked.
‘Yes, it certainly does,’ Lizzie replied, feeling more confident now that she’d got started. ‘I would like to see women ferrying all kinds of planes, so our men are free to engage in combat. I envisage our women pilots doing everything possible to assist the military to ensure the smooth operation of our air force.’
‘And what sort of girl would want to fly planes for the military, Miss Dunlop?’ the general asked, exchanging glances with the president.
She paused, taking a sip of her iced tea and then levelling her gaze at General Arnold. He wasn’t going easy on her, and she liked that. If he was, she’d know that he was merely humouring her, rather than taking her seriously – and, more than anything, she wanted to be heard. Her confidence rose as she prepared to answer him.
‘A girl just like me, actually,’ she said, giving what she hoped was a dazzling smile. ‘One who has spent her spare time in the air for as long as she can remember, exploring the sky instead of playing with dolls and learning the piano. That’s the kind of girl you’ll find wanting to fly military planes.’
There was silence for a moment before the two men erupted into laughter, and Eleanor caught her eye, giving her a quick smile. Lizzie could understand that men had a difficult time with her love of flying – to them she was as feminine as could be, with her signature pink lipstick and her blonde hair curled and pinned. They thought that being a pilot was a man’s role, and they couldn’t fathom her desire to be in the sky when she should be consumed with thoughts of marriage and babies.
‘She has you there, gentlemen,’ Eleanor said, smiling and thanking a staff member who arrived with plates of sandwiches and a platter full of bread, cold meats and cheese.
‘She certainly does,’ the general agreed, nodding. ‘Given that you’re Lieutenant Dunlop’s daughter, it doesn’t really surprise me that you’re so confident in the air, though. I suppose he had you up in a plane when you were knee-high to a grasshopper?’
‘You know my father personally?’ Lizzie asked, surprised.
‘Miss Dunlop, every military man worth his salt knows who your father is,’ the general told her. ‘There weren’t that many men awarded the Distinguished Service Cross in the Great War for five victories in the sky. It’s one of the only reasons I entertained this meeting in the first place.’
She nodded, not sure whether to be happy her father’s legacy had helped her, or annoyed that she hadn’t been seen on her own merits.
‘Now tell me,’ President Roosevelt began, taking charge of the conversation, ‘would you be personally prepared to train these women, if we allowed such a thing to go ahead? You genuinely believe you are up to the task of commanding a squadron?’
‘Yes, absolutely,’ Lizzie replied. ‘I wholeheartedly agree with Mrs Roosevelt’s recent comment that women are a weapon waiting to be used. With respect, Mr President, I honestly don’t believe that you or the army could imagine how brave, talented and capable women pilots would be. You won’t be sorry if you give us the opportunity – I can personally guarantee that.’
The president laughed. ‘Miss Dunlop, my wife is a daily reminder of exactly how capable women can be. That’s not something you need to convince me of, and it’s the precise reason I’m sitting here listening to your ideas.’
‘Who is it that I need to convince then? Because I’m not afraid of telling anyone what I want or why women should be included,’ said Lizzie, as the others took their plates and slowly filled them with food. Then she shut her mouth before she said anything too bold. She could almost see her father shaking his head in disapproval. She followed Eleanor’s lead and took two small cut sandwiches, placing her plate in front of her even though the last thing she wanted to do was eat. Her mind was racing, her stomach still flipping back and forth as the enormity of what she was negotiating filled every cell of her body.
‘Me,’ General Arnold finally said, his voice deep and commanding. ‘You need to convince me, Miss Dunlop, that I’m not a fool to be considering this idea of yours. I’ve looked into your flying credentials and I’m impressed by your skills and your passion, but the question is whether I want to put my reputation on the line for such a bold change in policy. And, frankly, whether you’re the right woman for the job.’ He shifted in his seat as he considered her, his gaze steady. ‘Women have never been permitted to fly military planes, and in all honesty it might be best to keep things that way. We’d be taking jobs away from men who well need them, and I can only imagine what will be said to that effect.’
Lizzie nodded and took a delicate bite of her sandwich, forcing the mouthful down as she bided her time, a dry lump in her throat as words bubbled inside her. The last thing she wanted was him thinking she was hot-headed and incapable of taking criticism, even if most of the people who knew her well would describe her as exactly that.
‘I respectfully disagree that we’d be taking jobs from men,’ she said carefully, her heart pounding as she tried to keep her voice even. Her father wouldn’t believe she’d responded so calmly. ‘In the event of war, we’d be freeing men from those positions to allow them to fly in combat. We merely want to assist in any way we can, and put our flying skills to use. That’s all I’m asking.’
‘Gentlemen, perhaps we should eat lunch and then resume this conversation once you’ve both had time to consider the merits of Elizabeth’s proposal,’ Eleanor suggested. ‘I think we can all agree that women would be more than capable of flying any plane the military might have, but it’s a delicate subject.’
‘With respect, Eleanor, we have planes that even some of our best men are frightened of!’ General Arnold scoffed.
Lizzie bit her tongue. It took every inch of her willpower not to retaliate and argue with him, but she knew better than to cross a man in his position, who was giving her the time of day to present her case – especially when she felt she was so close to convincing him.
‘How about you tell me more about your personal experience, Miss Dunlop,’ the president said. ‘I’d like to hear about how you won the Bendix Trophy Race. If I’m honest, that was the part of your resumé that intrigued me the most.’
Lizzie nodded in relief, feeling more at ease talking about her flying. ‘It was probably the most exciting moment of my flying career, sir. It certainly made my heart race!’
Everyone seated at the table laughed.
‘I’m well aware that you beat two men who are now general officers in the air force,’ commented the general. ‘Not to mention that you were also granted the world’s most outstanding pilot award by the International League of Aviators. It’s no mean feat to achieve such things.’ He paused. ‘And that, along with your determination over the past couple of years, means I will indeed be supporting the inclusion of women pilots, despite my inner conflicts about it, should the opportunity arise.’ He smiled. ‘Although something about you tells me I could live to regret that decision.’
Lizzie took a slow, deep breath. ‘Should?’ she asked. The word continued to echo through her mind. ‘Should the opportunity arise?’ She’d been certain he was going to give her the go-ahead then and there.
He nodded, frowning slightly. ‘You heard correctly. We’re not at war yet, so I don’t see any need at this immediate stage to establish a squadron of women pilots to assist our military. But I do have a suggestion for you to ensure that we’re well prepared.’
Lizzie held her breath. Her heart started to pound again and she dug her fingernails back into her palm, fist tightly closed. ‘Oh?’ she said, trying not to sound as if she were about to burst.
‘Have you heard of the Air Transport Auxiliary in Britain? The ATA?’ asked the general, glancing at Eleanor and receiving a nod in response.
Lizzie nodded too – she knew that women were already assisting the military in England. It was one of the reasons she’d hoped she was one step closer to seeing her vision realised.
‘In short, it’s a c
ivilian division. They ferry planes all over the place, for the same purpose you’ve suggested, and I would like you to consider travelling to England to join the women’s division for now – in an active role, of course. Primarily it will give you an understanding of their inner workings and experience of ferrying fighter planes and so forth. What do you say?’
Lizzie tried not to leap out of her skin with excitement, but it was impossible to suppress the smile that spread across her lips. ‘What do I say?’ she repeated, laughing as she traded looks with Eleanor. ‘I say that’s a brilliant idea! What plane shall I take to fly across the pond?’
‘How about I make the travel plans and you follow orders,’ he said gruffly. ‘We don’t want to send the army into collective heart failure over female pilots just yet.’
Lizzie beamed at the men seated in front of her. England, here I come!
CHAPTER TWO
LONDON, ENGLAND, JANUARY 1942
RUBY
Ruby Sanders sat beside her mother and held out her cup for more tea, concentrating on keeping it perfectly balanced on the saucer. She reached for a cube of sugar and dropped it gently into the cup, cringing when she saw the look on her future mother-in-law’s face. Carolyn sighed and pointed at the tiny tongs on the tray. Ruby didn’t want a second sugar, but she smiled and reached for them anyway. The woman was a stickler for manners, and despite her best efforts, Ruby still managed to do the wrong thing almost every time she visited.
‘Darling, if there’s enough available, would you like silk and lace?’
Ruby nodded politely. ‘Of course. Although I’m more than happy to alter my mother’s dress if need be.’
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