The Spitfire Girls

by Soraya M. Lane

  ‘For Valour,’ she whispered.

  ‘He was in the middle of writing to you when the pain started in his chest,’ her mother continued, handing her a letter. ‘I’ll leave you both for a moment so you can read it.’

  Lizzie put the medal on the bed beside her father and unfolded the paper, glancing at her daddy, seeing that his eyes were still open, searching for her still.

  She cleared her throat and quietly started to read aloud.

  ‘To my darling Elizabeth,

  I’m so very proud of everything you’ve achieved. I can hardly believe that my little girl is commanding an entire squadron of pilots, and women at that!’

  She smiled, reaching for his hand.

  ‘You always believed in yourself, and without that confidence we may never have seen women in the sky during this war. When I was a pilot, we would have laughed at the idea that women could help us the way you’re helping us now. But look at you, doing this for the war, being the leader of a team, just as I was. We’re nothing without our squadron, and . . .’

  The words abruptly stopped, and Lizzie looked up, wanting to know what else he was going to say.

  ‘Daddy?’ she said, bending forward. His eyes were open, a faint smile on his lips. ‘Daddy?’

  She shook his hand, but received no response. Then she gently squeezed his shoulder as a cold sensation passed through her.

  ‘Fly high, Daddy,’ she whispered through her tears, the letter slipping from her fingers as she dropped over him and gave him one last hug. ‘Fly high.’

  PART THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  TEXAS, 1944

  LIZZIE

  ‘No!’ Lizzie screamed, anger thumping through her as she hastily read the letter from Hap. Her hands shook as she balled it up and threw it across the room.

  She ran out of her office and into the open, gulping in breaths of warm air as she tried to come to terms with what she’d just read. It couldn’t be true, could it? Could this really be the end? The sun was beating down, sending her temperature soaring. First her daddy and now this?

  She saw her pilots, some milling about in groups, some walking on their own. She saw planes lined up, looked skyward and saw aircraft in the sky.

  ‘Liz?’ Jackson’s big, warm hand covered her shoulder.

  ‘It’s over,’ she choked. ‘We’re done.’

  ‘What do you mean, we’re done?’ he asked.

  She pointed towards her office, not wanting to go back in there. She didn’t want to read it again, didn’t want to acknowledge that her threat had led to the end of the WASPs. Maybe Hap was simply too busy to worry about a group of women; he was directing the war in the air over Europe, after all. But without them, without the WASPs, they wouldn’t have had the necessary support at home, they wouldn’t have . . . She pushed her thoughts away and walked down to the barracks, taking in the pilots sunning themselves, wooden chairs tipped upside down so they could lean back and sunbathe.

  When she finally returned to her office, she found Jackson sitting in her chair, holding the crumpled paper in one hand. He looked up when she entered, but his gaze said it all. She marched over and took the letter from his hands, needing to see it again to make sure she hadn’t dreamt it up; but it was very much reality.

  ‘I am proud of you young women,’ Lizzie read, clearing her throat and skipping down a bit further. ‘When we needed you, you came through and have served most commendably under very difficult circumstances.’

  Jackson came to stand beside her, tucked his arm around her. ‘You have freed male pilots for other work, but now the situation has changed and your volunteered services are no longer needed,’ he continued for her. ‘My sincerest thanks and Happy Landings, as always.’

  They stood side by side in silence as rage built within Lizzie.

  ‘The bastard!’ she swore. ‘How could he do this to us?’

  Jackson let the letter drop to the floor and wrapped her tightly in his arms as she cried into his chest. Lizzie never cried; she never let anyone see her vulnerabilities, but in Jackson’s arms she cried and cried and cried until she couldn’t cry any longer. First over her father, and now this.

  ‘We can fight this,’ he muttered. ‘You can fight this.’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘No, we can’t. It’s over, Jackson.’ She shut her eyes, knowing she needed to pull herself together before she bravely faced her girls. They would all be receiving the letter the following day, and she needed to be there for them, to be strong and reassure them what an incredible role they’d played in this war. Her daddy’s passing had almost crushed her, but she’d refused to give up, returning to base within a week of his death. He’d made it clear to her that his squadron was everything to him, and hers was to her now, too.

  ‘It’s one thing for men to let women fly, but it’s another thing entirely when they start to think you’re replacing them,’ Jackson said. ‘The idiots can’t even see why we need you so much.’

  She placed a hand to his chest, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips. Jackson’s hands slipped to her waist and he kissed her back, his lips so gentle as he comforted her. He’d been there for her when she’d truly needed him, and it was about time she showed him how much that meant to her.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, as he gently wiped her tears, his thumb drying her wet cheek.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For being here when I needed someone. For everything.’

  She looked over her shoulder at the letter on the floor. They had a few more months before they were discarded like dirty laundry, that’s what he’d said. Those still training could finish up and graduate, but they’d all be home by Christmas. Everything she’d worked so hard for was going to be gone like a puff of smoke, as if it had never existed.

  ‘Want me to come with you when you announce the news?’ he asked.

  Lizzie shook her head. ‘No. I need to do this on my own.’

  She’d been the one to tell them all when they’d been accepted into the programme, and she’d be the one to tell them it was over.

  Jackson dropped a kiss on to her hair and turned to go. As she watched him, she knew that letting him walk away from her once the programme was disbanded was something she couldn’t bear to think of. She might lose her job, but she had Jackson, and that was worth more than she could have imagined. One step at a time, she told herself. First she’d deal with this, and then she’d make sure she didn’t lose Jackson and the WASPs. She’d had enough loss these past few months to last her a lifetime.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ENGLAND, 1944

  MAY

  ‘I can’t believe it’s been more than a year since we lost her,’ Ben said, as May placed flowers on the grass.

  May straightened up. ‘It feels like a lifetime,’ she agreed, reliving the day she’d seen Polly lying there and wishing the memory had faded more. ‘And it was for nothing – we’re still flying blind.’

  Ben’s arm slipped around her shoulders. ‘You’ve done everything you can do, May. It’s not your fault if no one will listen.’

  She knew that, but it still drove her mad that there was nothing more she could do to keep her girls safe. The only consolation was that things were finally turning in favour of the Allies, which meant that everything they’d done, every sacrifice they’d made, had been worth it.

  ‘Have you heard from Violet this week?’ she asked, as they headed back to their borrowed car.

  ‘Yes, actually, I have,’ Ben said. ‘In fact, she wanted to know when I was going to ask you to marry me.’

  May’s heart started to race. ‘And what did you say to that?’ she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

  Ben took both of her hands in his and dropped to one knee, kissing her knuckles as he looked up at her. ‘I said I’d ask you and see what you said.’

  May’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. ‘What?’ she whispered.

  ‘May, when this war is over, will
you marry me?’

  She dropped to her knees with him and kissed him, her hands planted on his cheeks. ‘Yes!’ she gasped. ‘Yes, Ben, I’ll marry you.’

  He took her hand then and held something out, and she smiled when she saw it was a piece of metal welded into a small circle.

  ‘I promise I’ll give you a proper ring when the war is over,’ he said, pushing it onto her finger. ‘But for now, this is from the damaged engine of a Spitfire. I pulled that engine apart and rebuilt it to keep your pilots safe, so I thought it was the perfect keepsake for you. I made it myself.’

  She looked down at her finger. ‘It’s perfect, Ben. Honestly, it is.’

  Ben pulled her to her feet and swung her up into his arms, then carried her to the car. She nestled into his neck, nuzzling against him, wondering how on earth a girl so determined not to get close to anyone had somehow ended up head over heels in love.

  ‘Can this be our little secret?’ she whispered.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, kissing her forehead. ‘It can. For now.’

  ‘Did you hear from Lizzie again?’ May asked the next day, pleased to be catching up with Ruby. They were sitting outside the large hangar at Hamble, after flying back from delivering bombers to Yorkshire, catching the late morning sun. When May had found out that Ruby would have a few hours off before her next flight, she’d cleared her schedule so that she could spend some time with her before she flew out again. Part of her wanted to tell her about Ben, but the other part of her was almost too scared to admit to her happiness. They were both always so busy that they didn’t often get time to sit and talk together, just the two of them.

  ‘She’s heartbroken about the whole thing,’ Ruby said. ‘Honestly, I can’t believe she lost support for the WASPs. Surely they still need them? She’s had a rough year, hasn’t she?’

  May nodded, fingering the ring Ben had given her. She’d put it on her necklace to keep it close. ‘You know how men get when they think women are stealing their jobs,’ she said dryly. ‘It’s easy to discard us when they’re no longer desperate for our help.’

  ‘Do you think the same will happen here?’ Ruby asked. ‘After everything we’ve done? After everyone we’ve lost and . . .’ Her voice trailed off.

  ‘We’d be naïve to think any differently,’ May replied. ‘But for now I think we’re safe. They need us too much and there’s no one to replace us – it’s not like it is for the Americans. We’re still a required commodity, as crude as that might sound.’ She sighed. ‘But part of me thinks we’re getting close, that it actually could be over soon. The Normandy landings were a huge success, we’ve taken Italy . . . It’s all looking like the Allies might win this darn thing once and for all.’ There was still a long way to go, but compared to the previous year when it had felt like the Allies were losing, things seemed to be changing; even the broadcasts from the BBC were sounding more positive. ‘How’s Tom?’ May asked. ‘Settled back into flying again?’

  ‘As well as can be expected. I think we’re both focusing on what we have to look forward to if the war ever ends, but he’s happy to be back with his squadron for now.’

  May could understand that; she’d been doing the same when it came to Ben. She could still see the look on her mother’s face, feel the happiness of being reunited, and then the recognition that it was Ben who’d taken her there. Ben who’d been brave enough to stand up to her and make her go home.

  ‘Will you keep flying if you can? After the war, I mean?’ May asked. ‘Hearing that Lizzie’s wartime flying career is almost over, it’s made me start thinking about what it’ll be like for us. Trying to live normal lives is going to be weird.’

  ‘It’ll be downright boring, that’s what it’ll be!’ Ruby moaned. ‘It’ll be like learning to live without a limb if I can’t fly anymore.’

  ‘I know. Trouble is, we’ll have to fund our own flying again, and who among us will be able to afford it?’

  ‘Would you give it all up? To have a family or get married?’ Ruby asked, looking a little tearful. ‘When all this is over, I mean?’

  ‘After all we’ve done, I expect it won’t be so unusual for us to want to continue flying to some degree and be wives and mothers.’ Maybe she was hoping for too much, but Ben didn’t seem in the least bit concerned by her love of flying. ‘Surely Tom will understand that, being a pilot himself? I just don’t know if we can be expected to become homemakers and give up our role as fliers.’

  ‘I know, I feel the same, and I hope Tom does understand,’ Ruby said quickly. ‘But will our men still think like that when our lives go back to normal, or will they start to forget how much we’ve done? Will they just go back to their old expectations and expect us to change again, too?’

  ‘And be influenced by their mothers or other family members?’ May asked gently. ‘Is that what you’re worried about?’

  Ruby’s face flushed. ‘Yes.’

  May knew how much her friend struggled with her mother-in-law; it wasn’t an easy position to be in, although there must be many older women who held her old-fashioned views. Maybe it was simply because they couldn’t comprehend what women could do, or hadn’t been given the same opportunities.

  Meanwhile, their futures rested in the hands of men, and May wasn’t certain it would come down to keeping the best for the job. More like the best man for the job. ‘I’d like to think that women will be able to apply for other aviation jobs once the war is over, like piloting commercial aircraft.’

  ‘And do you think that will happen?’ Ruby asked.

  ‘I’m hopeful, but not certain,’ May raised her eyes as an aircraft approached, watching the ungainly beast as it slowly hit the ground and taxied down the runway. ‘Perhaps, after all we’ve achieved here, I’m starting to let my dreams run away with me.’

  ‘Well, I hope you’re bloody right,’ Ruby muttered.

  ‘One thing’s for sure,’ May said with a grin. ‘Our mothers and sweethearts are going to be shocked to hear us swearing and carrying on like a bunch of men when we return home!’

  They burst out laughing and May thought of her own mother. She’d never said a curse word in front of her children in her lifetime, and she’d never been further than an hour’s drive from their home; whereas May had seen the length and breadth of their country from the air.

  She smiled at Ruby. It was strange how much life had evolved, but she wouldn’t have changed hers for the world. And for the first time in years, she couldn’t wait to go home again, but this time with Ben proudly by her side.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  TEXAS, 1944

  LIZZIE

  Lizzie had never struggled so much to keep her emotions in check, but as she stood on the stage to address the WASPs seated in front of her, she could barely contain herself. This was her final graduation. No more women would ever complete her programme. She’d lost the fight; they’d only have a week or so of actual flying as fully fledged WASPs, and all she could do was give these incredible women the send-off they deserved.

  ‘This is a very special day for all of us, not least the incredible pilots who are graduating today,’ Lizzie said, staring straight ahead despite the tears that threatened to fall. She refused to give in to them, holding her head high. ‘What we have done, the great service the WASPs have given our country, is something that we must all be incredibly proud of. You, all of you, are my greatest achievement by far, and nothing I’ve done before, or will ever do in the future, will come close to this. I may have been the starting point for this programme, but I am a very small part of what we have become.’ She glanced over at Jackson, resplendent in his full uniform. He was watching her so intently that it only made her all the more emotional. She took a deep, shaky breath. ‘As you know, this programme also couldn’t have happened without the support of General Arnold, the commander of the Army Air Forces, who has made the effort to be here with us today.’ She looked at Hap and smiled, pleased to have him with her on this final day. He had shown unwavering su
pport for women pilots since the beginning, and she couldn’t blame him for Congress voting against them or their programme being shut down. There was, after all, only so much one man could be expected to do. ‘But before I step aside for my good friend and mentor, I would like to share some statistics with you. As we all know, there has been much said about us that is untrue and downright mortifying, and I want to set the record straight.’

  Lizzie looked down at the notes in her hand. Until now she’d been speaking from the heart, but she wanted to get these facts and figures correct. There was a journalist in attendance to witness the last ceremony, and her hope was that he would at least report correctly when he wrote his story.

  ‘Since the women’s pilot programme began, we have had an astonishing twenty-five thousand applicants. As you know, the acceptance process was tough, and as such we accepted fewer than two thousand women. We have had one thousand one hundred and two women serving as WASPs, including the twenty-eight women fliers in Nancy Love’s original WAFs squadron.’ Lizzie looked at the strong, beautiful faces staring back at her and bravely continued. ‘Thirty-eight women pilots died while serving our country, and I would like to take a moment to remember those incredible women. They died in the line of duty, and I know they will never, ever be forgotten.’ She placed her hand on her heart and shut her eyes for a moment, hoping the others would do the same. When she opened them and saw every single head bowed, a single tear slipped from the corner of her eye. She’d started out to set the sky ablaze with women pilots, and somehow, through the grace of God, she’d done it, which was why today was so heartbreakingly painful for her.

  ‘Women ferry pilots have flown seventy-seven kinds of planes and flown some sixty million miles, and one thing it has shown me is that women truly can do anything they set their minds to.’ She raised her voice, wanting this to be the part they remembered. ‘We are told as little girls what our expectations should be, and it’s made abundantly clear what our limitations are, but I’m standing here today to tell you that there are no limitations for women, or at least not in the sky. You don’t need to be a burly six-foot man to fly an enormous four-engine bomber, but you do need a brain and single-minded determination. It’s no wonder men feel threatened by us, instead of seeing us as their sisters in arms.’ She paused again. ‘But we are different from our male counterparts, and we should be proud of our differences. As women, we feel deep compassion and gratitude, and we know how important our role is. I for one know that I first embarked on this challenge to prove to myself and to my dear father exactly what I was capable of, but I quickly discovered that what I was doing was so much bigger than that.’ She smiled. ‘I’ve heard stories of many women writing notes and leaving them in the aircrafts as they deliver them, wishing the intended combat pilot good luck. I’ve had male pilots report back that seeing us arrive, ferrying planes to them, has given them hope. Many of them love us, although they didn’t necessarily in the beginning, and they scribble images of our little “Fifi” icon as they wait to fly. As women, we should never doubt the impact we’ve had on our great country.’