Dawn of a Thousand Nights

by Tricia N. Goyer

  Was that really how it worked? All her life, Libby had believed the Bible was God’s Holy Word. But could He really use it to speak to real people about the real situations they faced every day?

  Libby went to her dresser and pulled out her clothes. Dan’s photo on the wall greeted her with a huge grin.

  “God’s with you, Dan.” She leaned close to the photo for a better look. “I know we didn’t talk much about Him, but I hope that no matter what darkness you face today, you’ll know that it’s not too dark for God’s light.”

  Libby heard a sound in the hallway, and turned to see Ginger standing outside the open door. Her face reddened at the thought of being caught talking to a photo, and she squared her shoulders.

  Ginger turned away without speaking, but not before Libby saw the tears that streaked her face.

  Four women in flight coveralls carried their parachutes as they climbed out of the Boeing twin-engine, which had just arrived at the airfield of the Piper Cub factory in Lock Haven. Libby jutted out her chin and added a little extra sway of her hips as she noticed the stares from the ground crew and other pilots who were just arriving for the day’s work.

  Yes, we’re the female pilots you’ve heard about.

  After checking in with the ground crew, the women found the correct planes by the tail numbers. Libby inspected her plane, climbed in, and figured her airspeed and flying time in her little, round-wheeled flight calculator. Then she waited for the line crews to crank the props.

  Within a matter of minutes all four planes were lined up, ready for takeoff. Libby noted the white star on the wing—the symbol of the U.S. Army. This is what she’d been dreaming about. Finally, her time had arrived.

  Then her eyes spotted something across the field. P-40s lined up in a neat row. She blew them a kiss.

  I’m doing this for you, Dan. Look at me, sweetheart.

  As the navigator, Ginger ascended into the sky first. July, assigned to the number two position, followed. Once in the air, July moved to the navigator’s right and back slightly.

  Annabelle, the third in line, took off behind the others, moving to the left of Ginger. Libby was last. And as the flight leader she had responsibility for all other pilots, keeping an eye on them from the rear position.

  It was a system they’d studied during those long days in the classroom, and each knew her part. They knew that when Ginger had navigated their group within ten miles from their destination airport, she’d throttle back. Then Libby would move forward and lead the group in.

  At first, Libby had been pleased to be assigned flight leader. Now the responsibility weighed heavily on her shoulders. What if something goes wrong? Can I handle it?

  It didn’t help that it seemed as if the whole country was watching and waiting to see if these lady pilots would succeed.

  Since they didn’t have radios to communicate, Libby rehearsed their signals in her mind.

  If someone has engine trouble, she dips her nose a few times before she goes down.

  If the navigator is off-course, the flight leader should come forward and take over.

  The flight leader must dip her right wing if the navigator is headed too far left.

  Lifting the plane’s nose means pilots should fly to a higher altitude, where they might find it easier to cruise.

  Despite Libby’s worries, a few hours later the planes were safely deposited at an airfield in New York—all before most military workers were breaking for lunch. And since they were flying the smaller planes, with hardly any power, it took about the same amount of time to fly the course as it would to get there by train.

  Libby climbed down from the plane and shuffled through her paperwork. She met the airport manager inside the main office. “Please sign here, sir. Then these planes are yours.”

  “It’s about time. I needed them three weeks ago.”

  Libby shrugged and handed him a pen. “Sorry, we just got the orders today. Please sign.”

  The airfield manager cocked one eyebrow but did as he was told. “Do any of you dames want to stick around for a drink after work?” He slid a grease-covered hand down his unshaved face and glanced toward the group of women who waited outside.

  Libby smiled, debating whether or not to inform him that he’d left a large grease mark on his cheek.

  “Sorry. We have a six thirty train to catch. And the girls are wanting to catch a glimpse of the Statue of Liberty before heading for a bite to eat downtown.”

  When the women returned to the base later that night, they strode into their barracks as if they’d been ferrying all their lives. It was only after they closed the door that hoots and hollers rose, echoing down the narrow hallway.

  Annabelle dropped her flight jacket and gyrated her hips in a victory dance.

  July was much more subtle, grasping Libby’s hands and leading her in an impromptu waltz down the corridor. Ginger simply stood there and grinned.

  Betty’s face poked out from the third room. “I was wondering when y’all would return. I suppose it went well? But come quick; presents arrived while you were away.”

  The women crammed into the small room that Betty and Ginger shared. On the floor were two large B-4 canvas sacks, double-stitched for strength.

  Betty awkwardly lifted one and shook out its contents onto the concrete floor. “Winter flying suit, navigation case, leather jacket and pants.” She held up a leather helmet with a chin strap. “There’s one of these and a face mask. Oh, and boots and gloves. Golly. It feels like Christmas!”

  “Goodness gracious.” Annabelle lifted the other bag. “This thing must weigh a hundred pounds.” She dropped it back to the floor with a plunk.

  “Ninety, actually.” Betty stuffed the gear back inside hers. “Nancy and I weighed them.”

  “Well, let’s see how they look!” Ruth unfastened her skirt and dropped it to the floor, showing off her bright white undergarments. She slipped on the heavy wool stockings, followed by the woolen underwear and leather pants. Then she strode over to the floor-length mirror, shaking her head.

  “Tell me the truth now, girls,” she said, striking a pose. “Does this outfit make my butt look big?”

  Thirty-One

  MESSAGES SENT TO JAPAN: RECORDINGS TO

  AMERICANS GIVE PROMISE OF EARLY RELEASE

  Will have you back home soon! Hold on and God bless you!”

  That confident prediction was the keynote of numerous messages sent yesterday by New Yorkers to Americans who are prisoners of war in Japan…. The sponsors explained that they hoped to get the record to the Americans in Japan before Christmas.

  Excerpt from the New York Times, November 8, 1942

  Friday morning Libby staggered into the barracks with her large brown B-4 bag and sifted through her things, forming a pile of clothes to haul to the army Laundromat. She held up the white blouse she’d worn for three days in a row and noticed a coffee stain from the 6:00 a.m. rush in El Paso. Then she pulled out a pair of army-issue long underwear—definitely made for a man.

  Who cares? Kept me warm in Montana.

  She’d already been gone a full week, washing her blouses in hotel sinks and drying them on the radiators—and she was sure she’d be leaving again tomorrow.

  Emptying her bag, Libby found her notepad with a letter she’d started to Dan’s mother.

  November 1, 1942

  Dear Ima Jean,

  Greetings! I’m sending this letter as an official member of the WAFS. Thank you for the letters you’ve continued to send. They always brighten my day. Between you and my dear father, I always seem to have a note waiting for me in the mail—which is the most excitement I’ve had lately.

  The weather has been dreadful, and there have been more articles written about our work than the number of planes we’ve actually ferried. I spend most of my time on the Link Trainers, which are flight simulators we call the “Maytag Merrerschmitts.” We’ve also taken part in a review for the ATC commander. We WAFS looked quite the sight marc
hing with all the male troops. And you should have seen the guys’ faces when the general took time to speak to each one of us ladies, while the men waited at attention.

  We hope things will pick up soon, and November turns up more work than October did. As the holidays near, my mind and heart turn to Dan. Have you heard anything? I was so thrilled when you wrote to tell me that he’d been awarded the Silver Star for his service in the Philippines. I only wish we could hear something of his status. Like you, I refuse to believe he is dead. (I’m having a hard time even writing that word!) He’s out there somewhere. I know it.

  I’m sure you would let me know if you had any news. It’s hard to believe this will be my second Thanksgiving and Christmas without him.

  The letter had ended abruptly when they’d been called up to work. Libby chuckled and realized she’d have to start over completely. Things had picked up—boy, had they. For the last two weeks, she’d been halfway across the country and back more than once, as had most of the other girls.

  Libby had just returned from New Orleans, where she’d sampled jambalaya for the first time. She had a hard time understanding the waitress’s thick accent, but the food was great. She hadn’t been over to check out the Ready Room yet, but she knew the map on the peg-board filled with colored golf tees would show where the other WAFS were. Some of the ladies were at the Piper factory, others at Lake Charles, Louisiana.

  Wonder where I’ll be tomorrow….

  Laughter erupted from the sitting room. “Come on, gals, are you ready to boogie?” July called.

  Then Libby heard the crackle of the record player, followed by “He Wears a Pair of Silver Wings” by Kay Kyser. She stuffed the letter into her drawer and took out a pencil to start a new one.

  The door opened, letting in the blaring music.

  “Libby, you’re back!” July rushed in, her face flushed from jitterbugging. “Did you hear about Ginger and Betty?”

  “What happened? Were they hurt?”

  July threw back her head and laughed. “Just their pride. When they landed in Charlottesville, it had been raining on the airfield, and their front wheels sank. Slam, they landed right onto their noses, breaking the propellers!”

  “You’ll have to tell me all about it, but first”—Libby stood and slipped her shoes on—“I need to dance.” She grabbed July’s hand. “Let’s go.”

  As Libby headed toward the door, she suddenly realized what was missing in the room. She’d been so preoccupied with her laundry and her letter that she hadn’t noticed that the photos of Jeff and the kids were missing from Annabelle’s dresser, as was her Bible. Annabelle’s pink chenille bedspread was also gone. Libby looked at July.

  “Where are Annabelle’s things?” Her heart pounded in her chest. “Where’s Annabelle?”

  “Sleep Lagoon” wafted down the hall as she hurried to her friend’s dresser and slid open the drawers.

  Libby felt a hand on her back.

  The humor in July’s voice was gone. “She went home. Said that as much as she loved being a part of the WAFS, her kids needed her.”

  “She didn’t tell me. I had no idea …” Yet even as loneliness for her friend overcame her, Libby realized she’d known all along. She’d seen Annabelle’s reaction after the incident with Libby’s mom.

  “You’re getting a new roommate. I heard Nancy saying that she’ll be here in the morning.”

  The music in the other room seemed to kick up a notch, and more laughter erupted. July squeezed Libby’s shoulder. “I know it’s hard. But, c’mon, dance it out. It’ll make you feel better.”

  Libby kicked off her shoes. “Go ahead. Have some fun. I’ll be okay, really.”

  July gave her a quick hug, then hurried out the door, her stocking feet padding down the hall to the tempo of Jimmy Dorsey’s “Tangerine.”

  Libby stepped out of her flight suit and let it fall to the floor. A cold winter wind hit the barracks with force, and bits of rain found their way through the cracks in the walls.

  “Not a new roommate,” she complained to Dan’s photo.

  Every time she came back, Libby was pleasantly surprised to find more female pilots—all previously licensed—who’d finished their training and now boasted shiny pairs of silver wings pinned to their blouses. But she hated the thought of starting from ground one with someone new. All the awkward small talk. And who could be as understanding as Annabelle?

  Libby rubbed her arms and hurried to her dresser to find her warmest pajamas. She opened the top drawer and paused. There, on top of her clothes, was Annabelle’s Bible.

  Libby quickly pulled on her pajamas, then slid under the covers and curled onto her side, Bible in hand. She rubbed the smooth cover and pressed it to her cheek, breathing in the leather smell. Oh, Annabelle. Thank you …

  She opened the front cover, and a slip of paper fell out.

  Dear Libby,

  I’m sorry I had to leave without a formal goodbye. Know that I’ll be back to visit, and I’ll bring the kids for you to meet. You should have heard the excitement in their voices when I told them Mommy was coming home.

  I’m leaving you this Bible with promises that I will also keep you in my prayers. May you continue to soar, and may Dan soon be home with you.

  Time to go. I must finish packing so I can catch the train.

  Always your friend,

  Annabelle

  Libby refolded the paper and saw that Annabelle had also written an inscription on the inside front page.

  May you discover Truth within these pages, and may you trust Him all your days. John 14:6.

  Love, Annabelle

  Libby found the book of John and read the verse out loud. “Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.”

  May you discover Truth.

  Jesus saith, I am the truth….

  Libby understood Annabelle’s message as plainly as if she were here explaining it. Libby had believed in religion for many years, but she realized that Annabelle wanted more for her friend. She wanted Libby to discover Jesus. To know Him on a level she’d never dreamed of before.

  Libby closed the Bible and set it on the floor. The jazz still blared from down the hall, but a different melody danced in Libby’s heart. Sadness for the loss of her friend, but joy over the new friend she’d been given.

  I want to know You, Jesus; I really do. Help me to know You better.

  And just before Libby drifted off to sleep, she added a postscript to her prayer.

  And please let me like this new girl. Help us to hit it off from the start. Amen.

  Libby awoke to the sound of footsteps entering the room. She smiled to herself, hearing the female chatter from down the hall and remembering she was “home.” Then her smile faded as she realized that those weren’t Annabelle’s footsteps that had awakened her.

  The footsteps stopped just inches away from her bed.

  How dare she … crowding in without a chance to get to know each other first. Libby pulled the blankets around her, sat erect, and looked up into a familiar pair of pale blue eyes. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she held back a squeal.

  “Rose!” Libby swung the covers off and nearly dove into her friend’s arms.

  Rose laughed. Oh, how wonderful it was to hear that laugh.

  Libby held her at arm’s length, noticing the WAFS flight suit on her friend. “It’s you. You’re here. And you’re one of us?”

  “Yes, it’s me. I’m here—although not officially a WAFS yet. I still have to earn this uniform.”

  Libby did squeal then and bounced on the concrete floor. Other faces peeked through the open doorway to see what all the excitement was about.

  Libby spun Rose around to face the others. “Everyone, this is Rose. My best friend in the world. We were flight instructors together in Hawaii.” Libby swept her arm toward the group. “And Rose, this is … everyone. Ginger, Betty—”

  Suddenly Libby realized the others were alrea
dy dressed in their uniforms, ready for the day’s flights.

  “Oh, man.” She swept up her blouse, trousers, and undergarments. “Oh, man. You just got here, but I have to hurry. I need to go.”

  Rose laughed and grasped Libby’s arms. “Go. I’ll be here when you get back. I’m your new roommate.”

  “My new roommate? Yes, you’re my new roommate!” She gave Rose a quick kiss on the cheek, then covered her mouth. “Ew, sorry. Haven’t brushed my teeth yet. Oh, I have so much to tell you. It’ll have to wait until I get back tonight … or next week. I’m not sure; I haven’t checked my schedule yet.” She scurried down the hall to the bathroom.

  “Yeah, and don’t worry. We’ll fill Rose in,” Betty chirped. “We have plenty of dirt on you. Just wait until she hears what you’ve been up to.”

  Nancy peered up at the group over the top of her reading glasses. “Your assignment today is to fly the first PT-19s from Hagerstown, Maryland. The planes are to be delivered to a training base in Chattanooga, Tennessee, a 650-mile flight. Unlike the L4s that have closed cabins, these have open cockpits … so make good use of that winter gear that just arrived.”

  The WAFS nodded, then headed outside to the transport that would fly them the hour’s trip to Hagerstown. As they made their way toward the plane, Libby couldn’t help but laugh at the waddling group. “I feel like one of those big Sumo wrestlers. And you all look ridiculous.”

  “At least we’ll be warm,” July commented. “And if you want to laugh, take a look in the mirror, Libs.”

  Once they arrived in Hagerstown, they waited inside the smoke-filled Alert Room for the chilling cloud cover to lift. They watched from a window, and as soon as they could see clear skies above the nearby mountains, they knew it was time to take off.