Everyone has a different reason ... for joining the military during World War II. Being a female and not a nurse, mine may in fact be of a slightly different nature.
I was born on a large farm in rural eastern Oklahoma back in 1922. At 17 years of age, my twin brother passed away from leukemia, and I knew I had to get far from that farm — too many memories of him everywhere I looked.
From the small town of Stigler I went to Muskogee to join the National Youth Association, which was one of President Roosevelt’s organizations. There, I learned riveting on pieces of airplanes used in the war, just like Rosie the Riveter.
One day a friend and I decided to join the military or ... Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps. ... I easily passed my physical and boarded a train for Des Moines, Iowa, where I went through four weeks of basic training.
I had been an athlete in both basketball and softball back in high school, but nothing prepared me for the strenuous work I endured. ... After basic training, we took a troop train to Camp Lee, Va.
I wasn’t homesick. I was enjoying this new life. I was one of the first 150 WAAC to arrive at Camp Lee. There were bands to greet us and marching men — quite a celebration! Being from a farm and not having a whole lot of excitement, I suppose my mouth was open all the time in amazement.
The WAAC had our own barracks, a day room and a beauty shop. If we had a date, he was allowed to come to the day room, and we were called over a loudspeaker announcing his arrival.
We frequented the officers’ club about every Saturday night. Slow waltzes played and hits we jitterbugged to could be heard well past midnight. The majority of the music was a bit sad ... stories of lost love, stomping Hitler, etc. That era, all in all, had some of the best big band sounds.
Mail call was a big deal. Letters from my eight siblings at home were always a highlight of my day. If I didn’t get a letter that day, I would go through the barracks singing, ‘No letter in the mail today.’ I always liked to make people laugh, and that they did. What fond memories!
My specific job while in the WAAC was cooking. Up at 4 a.m. and worked until after the noon hour daily. The sergeant I was dating had a job of supplying the mess halls for the officers with food from the commissary and flowers for their tables, etc. I, in turn, always had gorgeous bouquets of left-over blooms. ...
My title was corporal, and I decided to get out of the WAAC when they became a part of the regular army (WAC). The war was still going strong in 1942, but I elected to move on. ... These memories of my days in the military won’t ever be forgotten. I will be 85 in a few short months, but this part of my life will always be cherished and remembered as some of the best days of my life.
Submitted by Opal Neumann, 84, of Bedford, Va., on the oklahomawwii.org Web site
