Chapter Text
-Chapter 1-
“You can’t be serious. Please tell me you’re kidding?”
“Shh!” Eve hissed, trying to get her brother to shut up. “You’ll spook all the game.”
“Eve,” Alex persisted, deliberately ignoring her.
“I’m not having this conversation right now, Alex.” She didn’t look at him, kept her attention focused down the sight of her gun, hoping to shoot something so she would have an excuse to ignore her bothersome brother. This was the fifth time he’d tried to have this conversation with her, and the topic hadn’t been up for discussion to begin with.
The siblings’ third hunting companion Mipsy was a pure-bred spaniel with brown spots and expressive eyes. Though keenly sensing the tension between the siblings and acutely bothered by it, what with her head tucked to the ground between her paws, Mipsy’s eyes stayed trained on the sky, eagerly anticipating the promised fun of a hunt.
With a heavy sigh, Alex settled back into the bush, a mulish pout on his face as he watched his little sister valiantly pretend she wasn’t paying the slightest attention to him. Just to be contrary, he thumped her with his foot.
When she ignored that too, he thumped her again even harder.
Eve yelped as Alex kicked her, jostling Mipsy, who whined in protest.
She was about to escalate in turn when five yards away, the shrub Eve had been eyeing erupted with fleeing partridges, desperately taking to the sky to avoid being picked off by a predator.
Brother and sister both sprang to their feet, trying to hit as many of the fowl as they could.
Eve breathed to steady her hands as she shot. One, she thought, watching the partridge she’d been tracking drop from the sky, her bullet lodged in its head. She flowed to the next. Two and three followed before the flock disappeared out of range.
With a flick of her fingers, Eve sent the Mipsy bounding through the brush to retrieve their prizes. Elated, she turned to find Alex’s own beaming mug. After a second of shared exuberance, she watched his face darken and his mouth open. To avoid him, she scrambled after the dog, ready to defend herself with Mipsy’s penchant for accidentally shredding the delicate birds as she retrieved them should he call her escape into question. If her departure also happened to put off the conversation lurking in Alex's eyes, well, perhaps that was for the best.
It didn’t take her long to find the dog. Mipsy released the birds she’d gathered easily enough, knowing she was in for a treat after successfully finding the kills. From there, it only took a matter of minutes for Eve to get the prizes ready to haul back to the house.
“Eve,” Alex said again.
She knew that tone. It was his, “You’re just a girl, what do you know?” tone. He used it every time he disagreed with her. She hated it.
“You know we’re going to have to talk about this,” he called after her as she tried to stay ahead of him.
“No, we’re not,” she disagreed.
“You can’t just go to war!”
“You are!”
That, right there, was the problem. Alex was leaving tomorrow, bound for the sea to fight the Japanese.
And Eve wasn’t.
His face softened. She turned away from him, unable to watch his regret when it wasn’t going to change his mind. He was still going to leave her behind.
Well, she wasn’t giving up just yet. Alex may be going to war ahead of her, but Eve was determined to join him, and soon.
There was nothing in the world Eve wanted more than to go fight for her country. What’s more, both Grandmamma and Aunt Eleanor had vowed to help her. With Aunt Eleanor (really her godmother but closer than any blood relation) and her formidable Grandmamma on her side, the battle was half won. Sure, the three of them still had to convince her father, mother, brother, and half the world – undoubtedly a herculean task – but Eve was confident in their plan.
It all hinged on the gala her parents were hosting tonight. It was Alex’s going away party, conveniently also doubling as a party to raise money for War Bonds. All the key players for the war were going to be in attendance, as well as more than a few of the wealthiest people in the country.
All Eve had to do was convince one person, just one General in the fifty or so supposed to be in attendance that she could fight as well as any man. If she managed it, she was sure Grandmamma and Aunt Eleanor could get her papa on board. He was the key to convincing her mother. As for Alex, well, her brother would just have to get over it.
“You know it doesn’t work like that,” Alex said, pulling her attention back to the conversation at hand. There was enough time to fret about the party later. Her brother was an obstacle she needed to deal with now. It hurt that he wasn’t on her side. He’d been on her side ever since they were youngsters playing cops and robbers in the woods, but he couldn’t see how much this meant to her. Or worse, he just didn’t care.
“It’s not fair that you get to go just because you’re a boy. Why do you get to go die for your country? It’s my country too!” she argued again, trying to convince him one more time to see it from her side.
“Life isn’t fair, Eve! And it’s not a ‘get to,’ I have to go. If I don’t then they’d just conscript me into the infantry. At least as an officer I get a bit of say in my own destiny.”
“Don’t you dare lie to me, Alex. Everyone wants to go, to prove that the Japs made one helluvah mistake bombing Pearl Harbor. You don’t understand what it’s like, not being able to go! Sarah’s younger brother was 4F and killed himself,” Eve argued. “He was colorblind and had asthma and he’s not alone! Thousands of men are begging to go to war and kill the Japs, killing themselves when they’re told no! I can pass those requirements. I can fight and shoot just as well as you can. Why is me wanting to go any different?”
“It just is!”
“It shouldn’t be! I can meet the physical requirements. I can shoot a gun just as well as any man, certainly as well as you can, Alex!” Eve kept pushing, despite knowing that it didn’t matter. Alex had already made up his mind.
“Shooting is all well and good, but it doesn’t mean you can join the army!”
“You joined!”
“I didn’t have a choice!” He’d joined up before he could be drafted, but there was no avoiding the war for young able-bodied men like her brother. Better to join up and choose where he was sent than be drafted in. It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. He was still going and she wasn’t. Not yet, at least.
“Well, I’ve made my choice!”
“No one is going to take a girl to war!”
It was like he’d slapped her.
She spun away and all but ran back to the house to get away from him, Mipsy gleefully yipping at her feet as she bolted to the house. She ignored Alex as he called for her to come back, that he was sorry.
He wasn’t sorry, he’d meant what he’d said, and she couldn’t forgive him for it.
There had never been a difference between them. Eve did everything with Alex. Everything. Now he was going where she couldn’t follow, and it was infuriating. Eve had never wanted anything like she’d wanted to be a soldier and Alex knew it.
And he’d still thrown it back in her face.
“Eve!” she heard him call again, far away now.
She ignored him. The house was in sight.
The white washed walls, surrounded by green fields had always heralded home after a long day outside. Today they looked foreboding and sent her anxiety ratcheting again. It was frustrating. She’d gone hunting to get rid of this exact feeling and Alex had ruined it. Eve knew she should have refused when he'd asked to come along.
But he’d said he wanted to spend his last day at home with her and she’d crumbled, like he’d known she would.
He was infuriating.
She stormed into the kitchen, dumping her partridges on the table without a word to the flustered cooks, butlers, and maids, extra hands for the party tonight. She was too angry to listen to Milly, the house’s head cook, flutter over her dingy appearance. Instead, she told the dog to stay and headed up the stairs to her room.
Eve cared not at all that her trousers were caked in mud, or that she smelled like sweat and gunpowder. She’d never much cared about being the “pretty one.” That was what her older sister Elizabeth was for, well, she would be if she ever came down from her room.
At any rate, Eve had a party to get ready for, and if this was going to work, she’d need to compose herself properly.
Eve’s family was well connected and well thought of in political high-society. Her father was a senator on numerous committees and her mother was the light of Washington D.C. Whenever they were in residence at the capital, Buchanan wealth and influence turned heads. It could be worth more than any dowry if it was leveraged the right way. Eve had often taken refuge here in their country estate, to avoid suitors eager to make these connections their own.
Marie, the household maid, was laying out the royal blue evening gown that Eve was meant to wear tonight. It was a dress she'd gotten from one of those well-meaning suitors who hadn’t even known her well enough to know she would have preferred a prized pistol like the one he always wore better. Actually, the pistol was the only thing she remembered about the man (well, and the fact that he’d been a dreadful bore, too full of himself and his tiny accomplishments by half); his name had long since escaped her memory.
Eve shed her hunting jacket and trousers to hop in the bath. If she wanted to turn heads for the right reason, she needed to look the part, and for that, she’d need some time.
-
When Eve arrived downstairs, fighting the pit of anxiety in her stomach the party was already in full swing.
Elizabeth had already snagged the eye of half the room. She looked stunning; the sun had put enough red in her auburn hair this spring that the light caught it at just the right angle to bring out her sapphire eyes. All of her curves were draped and emphasized. Eve knew what the hoard of men surrounding her sister was feeling. It was the same joy and excitement she always felt when Eliza was near – like anything was possible, like being at the center of her sister’s attention was all that mattered in the world.
It was a graceful dance for Eliza, entertaining so many admiring young men, keeping them all on their toes and engaged.
Eve could only watch with envy as her confidence dwindled in the wake of her sister’s effortless beauty. She’d always felt like the ugly sister, the one passed over whenever Eliza was near.
According to Alex, Eve was too boyish for men to desire her – though, at least it made ferreting out the men hunting after her name simple enough. She guessed she must be pretty enough to keep around, because none of the Alex’s friends had ever objected to her presence when she invited herself along to more masculine forms of pleasure, like hunting trips, and camping out in the woods, and race car driving. Nevertheless, as soon as Eliza was near, they were gone like moths to hover around her beckoning flame, too much in awe to realize the danger of the fire. Too many of Alex’s friends had been spurned by Eliza enough to vanish from their circle. Eve always thought less of the men for it, because she adored her sister.
Eve’s hair had more brown in it than red, and it despaired at holding where she’d tried to style it, flopping in her eyes and generally becoming a nuisance. Mama had forbidden her from just pulling it back in a horsetail, and had even done her best to help Eve style it, but the pins itched and she couldn’t get it to stay where she wanted it to. Where Eliza’s eyes danced, Eve’s were frozen lakes of blue, which made her seem even more frigid, according to the buffoon with the fine pistol.
She was taller than Eliza too, inheriting their father’s height rather than their mother's. Yet, what had once been a source of much gloating as a child had since made Eve feel like she towered over people, particularly when she was coaxed into wearing heels. She was too willowy, with only a modest bosom rather than the full curves of her sister. Not even the tight corset she’d been synched into had given her much shape. Maybe if she’d taken mama’s advice and dedicated herself to more womanly pursuits she would put on the weight she needed for curves like her sister’s, but sitting and stitching was so boring when there was a whole world outside to explore as it changed through the seasons.
Eve saw her mother glide over to pull Eliza away from the flock of would-be suitors, and deftly guide her sister towards their father’s political rivals to charm them.
It was a dance all Senator Edward Buchanan’s children had learned practically from the cradle, but Eliza was the best at it.
Eve’s eyes stumbled to Alex, who most of Eliza’s admirers had ambled towards, decked out in his fetching pressed uniform of Navy blue. She bit her cheek to stop herself from glaring at him as he dared to give her a sardonic smile. She saw the look in his eyes, the condescension. He didn’t believe in her. Worse, he’d do everything in his power to stop her.
Eve acknowledged this challenge with a slight nod and moved on. She would make no headway with Alex tonight. Besides, he shipped out tomorrow morning, so what did it matter? The thought of leaving their disagreement unresolved nearly had her moving to his side to reason with him once again, but she steeled herself. She would not concede. She would not let him dissuade her – and he was wrong to even try.
But God, did she miss the Alex who would have cheered her on from the sidelines when they were children, before the world had seen fit to define their roles.
She turned away from him and scanned the party again. Her eyes found her Grandmamma's. A smile stole its way onto Eve’s face almost without her consent. Grandmamma Buchanan was in fine form tonight with a contingent of Generals hanging on to her every word. The elegant woman was a force of nature in black lace and ivory. Her bright silver hair gleamed like a beacon in the hall.
As Eve drifted closer she overheard the woman’s imperious voice saying, “Flora Sandes was English. She fought with the Serbian Army and made the rank of Captain. The Russians fielded an entire battalion of women so infamous they were called the Battalion of Death.”
“If memory serves, they were also known by that name because of the high casualty rate of the Battalion,” a dark haired General with three stars on his lapel commented.
Grandmamma’s voice cracked like a whip. “People die in war, General. If no one died in war, how would anyone know who’d won?” She waited until the startled laughter settled down before she continued, “And besides, there were far unluckier battalions that were comprised of all men. One of ours was even lost in the woods, God help them.
“My point, gentlemen, is this: all over the world, women are picking up the rifles dropped by men and fighting for their homes, as they’ve done for thousands of years.”
She caught Eve’s eye and winked as her male companions blustered to try and rebuff her without offending her.
“Ma’am, the simple fact is that a woman doesn’t have the strength a man does,” some fool tried to argue. “Or the mental acuity required for battle.”
“Actually,” interjected another of her companions, an elderly gentleman with kind blue eyes and bright white hair. “Queen Elizabeth defeated the Spanish Armada in the 1600s.”
“The ships sank in a storm,” another protested. “Storms don’t require skills or battle planning, just luck.”
“Anyone can get lucky. It doesn’t take an ounce of skill to shoot a gun. Not one ounce,” Grandmamma decreed. “The skill comes in getting the bullet where you want it to go; something a woman is perfectly capable of achieving.”
“Evelyn!” the woman cried, as though just noticing her granddaughter’s presence at the outskirts of their circle. “Come here, child.”
Wary, Eve complied. No one argued with Grandmamma when she used that tone. “Yes, Grandmamma?”
“You look lovely, child,” complemented Grandmamma. “Doesn’t she just look ravishing, gentlemen?”
The men were quick to agree with the woman on this point, at least.
When their complimentary murmuring died down, the grand lady said, “These men seem to think shooting is a men’s sport. Would you like to educate them?” Grandmamma winked again at Eve, who bit her abused cheek again to smother her amusement before she laughed and ruined the game.
Instead, Eve bowed her head and shoulders. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt the festivities for something so trivial, Grandmamma. Besides, I’m sure these men don’t want to see -”
“Nonsense!” cried Grandmamma. “I insist we go immediately.”
“Ma’am,” said a dashing General with dark hair graying at the temples and soft gray eyes. He was twice Eve’s age, and half her grandmothers, but he seemed genial enough with a smile tucked into the corners of his thin mouth. “It’s dark outside.”
“And since when has the dark stopped soldiers from shooting each other?” demanded her grandmother. “Come, come, General. This won’t take but a moment. Evelyn, be a dear and go fetch your rifle.”
Eve did as she was bid, retrieving her favorite gun from the cabinet in her father’s study, where one of the maids must have replaced it after she’d stormed through the kitchen. As an afterthought, Eve grabbed two boxes of ammo and took them with her. Who knew what Grandmamma had up her satin sleeve?
She returned within five minutes and met her grandmother who had somehow gathered a much larger party of gentlemen to come watch the spectacle. It seemed that the older woman had somehow gathered every last military man from the party and drawn them outside to watch the show, including her father and godparents.
“Lead the way, Edward,” Grandmamma demanded of her son. Eve’s father smiled indulgently and took his mother’s arm to lead her to the field they kept set up for skeet shooting.
Eve was surprised how well she could see. The moon was full and bathed the whole lawn with silver light.
“Now, darling,” said Grandmamma. “You stay where you are. Edward and Alex will pull for you, since they have the most experience.”
“But Grandmamma,” protested Alex, flinching at the glare the older woman fired his way. “Skeet shooting is done with a shotgun, not a rifle.” The pellets fired from a shot gun were far better for shattering the clay pigeons. Using a rifle to the same affect would be far more challenging.
“Do not argue with me, Alex. Report to your post.”
Alex obeyed like the obedient soldier he was about to be, less he risk her ire.
When the men were ready, they each held up their hands.
“Are you ready, dear?” Grandmamma asked Eve.
Eve smiled to keep from laughing. She loved shooting. “I’ll need someone to hold my ammunition boxes.”
The blue eyed General from earlier stepped forward. “I would be happy to, Miss.”
“Thank you, General,” Eve said. “I don’t think I ever caught your name?”
“Bill Lee, ma’am. Pleasure to meet you.”
“And you, General Lee,” Eve said, passing over the ammo.
Eve took a breath to calm her racing heart. She didn’t let herself think about how much was riding on this moment; didn’t let herself contemplate that her future was at stake. She inhaled and took herself back to this afternoon, where the sun was bright and everything was right in the world.
When she opened her eyes, she’d settled into an easy shooting position, rifle loaded and ready at her side.
She took a breath, and took the plunge. “Pull!”
Her heart beat. One, two, she pulled the trigger twice, both pigeons shattered.
“Pull!” she called. One, two, she tracked the movement the clay made through the air with precision. The trick was not to think about it. Her idle thoughts and anxieties drifted away as she reloaded. Focusing her entire being on the next breath, the next shot, again and again, until all one hundred pigeons had been shattered on the field.
“Hold!” cried her grandmother.
Eve, already braced for another shot, paused, and felt like she’d fallen a hundred feet. She locked her knees to keep from staggering and tried to hide her shaking arms.
Next to her, the General she’d completely forgotten about whistled. “Damn fine shooting, Miss.”
A round of applause broke out, begun by Grandmamma but quickly becoming thunderous as the soldiers appreciated the spectacle.
Alex came bounding up to her, sweaty from hauling back the pull fifty times. “I’m gonna have to start calling you Annie Oakley!” he proclaimed as he pulled her into a hug, mussing her once tidy hair.
She took a deep breath, filling her nose with the scent of her brother and allowed herself to shake just a fraction as her body realized that the shooting was over and tried to loosen the muscles that had been tensed. She’d done her best. She just hoped it was enough.
It had to be enough.
Pulling away, she heard General Lee saying, “- got me convinced! Sign her up right now.” He was beaming at her godparents, who, seeing her attention was back on them made their way over.
“Well done, darling,” said Aunt Eleanor as she leaned in to kiss Eve on the cheek and give the girl another hug.
“Very well done, dear,” said the President of the United States, smiling broadly from the chair someone had seen fit to set up for him. Despite the immense public secrecy regarding his lingering polio, Franklin Roosevelt had no reason to hide or be ashamed of his condition here on her family’s country estate among his most trusted circle and war council, but even still, discretion was the better part of valor. Eve bent to give him a kiss on the cheek, happy as ever to see him. He squeezed her hand to show his approval.
Her father claimed her as soon as she’d straightened, putting her under his arm.
“Let’s go back inside,” Edward Buchanan announced, pinning his mother in place with his stare, not entirely happy with the outcome of this display.
Grandmamma smiled, knowing she’d already won, and allowed the party to disperse back towards the house. To her satisfaction, there was not a single conversation that didn’t revolve around the possibility of women like Eve going to war.
“I’ve already crunched the numbers on this, you know,” said the President after Eleanor had assisted him in standing. The powerful couple joined the scheming woman and slowly made their way back to the house themselves. “The American people are overwhelmingly not in favor of women being on the front lines.”
“The American people will change their minds,” decreed Eleanor. “They do every week.”
“Still, war is something I had wished to keep from our Evelyn.”
“She wants to go, Franklin,” Eleanor reminded him gently. “She will go with or without our blessing. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had a ticket for France in her purse already.”
“Which is why,” said Madame Buchanan, “I, for one, want her to get all the training she can stand.”
Roosevelt sighed, knowing he was outmaneuvered. “If her father says she can go, she will go with my blessing,” he finally allowed.
Madame Buchanan and Eleanor shared a look, knowing how Franklin didn’t like to lose, even to them. But they had won all the same.
“Tell me about this General Lee chap,” enticed Madame Buchanan, settling the matter.
“He’s been put in charge of a new concept for the European Front. The idea is that soldiers parachute behind enemy lines. The Germans used the method to invade Belgium and Holland in their ‘lightning war’.”
“I like him,” decreed Madame Buchanan.
“He’s a good man,” agreed Roosevelt, turning an idea about Eve’s possible enlistment over in his head. He missed the sly look passed between the women on either side of him.
Men, thought Madame Buchanan, smugly. You just have to make them think it’s their own idea.
As Eve walked up to the house, content to quietly go along with the whirlwind that was Alex and General Lee discussing her technique rapidly over her head, she saw her mother, arms folded and face awash with disappointment.
Eve lowered her eyes, instinctively ashamed by her defiance of her mother’s wishes (a shooting display wasn’t ladylike in the least), but soon found her resolve and met her mother’s eyes with all of her determination to attain her goal.
Her mother’s disappointment would not dissuade her. This was what she wanted.
Carol Buchanan saw the stubborn set of her daughter’s mien and turned away, biting her lip, unsure if it was tears or sheer frustration that she was holding at bay.
“Mama?” Eliza called from the ballroom. “What is it?”
She brushed a finger under her eyes to catch the gathering tears and prevent them from ruining her makeup before she rejoined her guests. “Nothing, dear,” she replied.
Eliza didn’t believe her, but she allowed her mama the luxury of the lie and didn’t push.
Honestly, Carol was shocked that Eve had managed to keep her ambitions a secret from Eliza at all, let alone for so long. When their youngest daughter had come to Edward begging to be sent off to war, his first stop had been Carol’s study.
Carol was not proud of how she’d reacted to the news that Edward was considering letting their youngest go off to war, nor was she happy with the way Eve had resorted to avoiding her to keep from igniting a confrontation.
She wondered where she’d gone so wrong with her upbringing that Eve felt her only calling was to head off to fight a man’s war on the other end of the world.
“Do you know where all the party guests went, mama?”
“Hm?” said Carol, gathering her thoughts and registering her daughter’s question. “They’re on their way back in now, dear, not to fret.”
“Was that shooting I heard?”
“Oh, yes,” remarked Carol, mind still on other things. “Your Grandmamma cooked up some scheme.”
“Oh dear,” remarked Eliza, well aware of her grandmother’s schemes. “Is everyone still alive?”
“I’m certain if they weren’t, we would hear the screams.”
Eliza laughed, and accompanied her mother back inside, pretending she didn’t notice the sorrow that etched itself across her mother’s face. What have you done now, Eve?
-
“Women don’t fight in wars for a very good reason; they’re too unpredictable. There’s no place for histrionics in the army. And never mind the distraction to the men –!”
Eve ignored the knot of officers she was passing, even as their voices carried over to her ears. It was all things she’d expected to hear; that women were unsuitable for war. It wasn’t true. She knew she could be just as successful a soldier as any man; she just needed the chance to prove it.
“Women need to stay and protect the home. It’s a man’s place to die for his country so women don’t have to. She should be grateful –“
She kept her head high and kept moving, ignoring the increasingly fervent outcry for her to remain home.
“It’s a proven fact: women are inferior to men in every way. She wouldn’t have the strength to carry her own gear, let alone a wounded comrade.”
“She’d be a danger not only to herself, but to whatever unit unfortunate enough to house her.”
Eve refused to listen to any of this hooey. She was not going to remain behind. Eve had as much right to go fight for her country as any man. God help her, if she couldn’t get into the army properly, she’d buy her way on a passenger ship bound for France or Belgium and join the Nazi resistance however she could. There was no way she could blend in at the Pacific theater or she might’ve tried to steal away on a navy ship and fight the Japs.
She was already trying to achieve the impossible by being the first openly female soldier to be stationed on the front lines.
(There have always been, and will always be, countless women fighting on the front lines. In any given war, numerous women had hidden among the ranks and served as honorably as any man, and no amount of slander would ever convince Eve otherwise.)
What she needed to do was to go into the infantry; the lower the rank the better. It was her only chance of actually seeing combat.
She knew the risks involved. Combat was dangerous anyway, and the infantry especially so. The infantry had earned is name from the Romans, who sent their newest and often youngest troops into battle at the head of their army, allowing the enemy to tire while slaughtering the “infants”.
Being an officer was safer, sure, but there were several obstacles with being a woman jumping directly into command. If she was put over men, they’d never respect her. If she was put over other women, they’d never see combat. “Cushy officer jobs” had the unfortunate side effect of oft times being behind the lines altogether; whereas the infantry was inherently dangerous by virtue of being on the front lines in perpetuity.
No, an officer’s commission like Alex wasn’t an alternative – but inevitably a cheaply disguised secretarial position designed to placate her.
Eve knew that joining a unit bound immediately for combat was also not an option. There was too much to overcome and in too short a time. She would never manage to integrate with the men before shipping out to Japan, which could be dangerous. They would never trust her if she was just thrown in with them.
Her best bet was an experimental unit.
“She’s going to get herself killed. What kind of message will that send to the folks at home?”
“Look at her! There is no time for chivalry in war and boys have needs after all –”
Eve bit her cheek to stop from flushing bright red at the appraising looks the men in that particular clump were sending her way. She quickly glanced at their faces, imprinting them with alacrity gained from terror, and resolved to keep at least half the banquet hall between her and them.
-
“Are you mad?” cried Edward Buchanan faced down by his mother and his child’s godmother. “You want me to send my youngest daughter off to war?”
Madame Buchanan scoffed. “Despite all your bluster, you’ve yet to name a single reason she can’t go.”
“I don't want to be accused of plucking the low bearing fruit, Mama, but I will state the obvious if you insist: she’s a little girl who will get herself killed! What happens when the task of war proves too much for her and she crumbles in the face of the enemy to the detriment of her unit? She is as physically incapable of keeping up with men as all women are.”
“What if she could?” Eleanor asked.
“Could what?” Edward demanded, already a few sentences ahead in his rant, and unsure what point she was addressing.
“Give her a trial period,” Eleanor suggested. “If Evelyn proves herself to be as physically capable as a man, then give her the option of joining permanently.”
“Yes,” Madame Buchanan agreed quickly. “Isn’t basic training required to judge all soldiers on their state of readiness? I fail to see why it works for our young men, but couldn’t work for our Evelyn.”
“Again, she is not a man!”
“Don’t be so obtuse, Edward,” scolded Madame Buchanan. “I was quite capable of defending my home at her age, and my newborn son, just as thousands of women have done for thousands of years.”
Said newborn son quieted, unwilling to provoke his mother further by implying her unfit in some way. Instead he tried a different tactic.
“We’re not being invaded, Mother.”
“Aren’t we?” she demanded. “The news I saw had Japanese planes attacking Pearl Harbor. The world is shrinking, Edward. Soon there won’t be anywhere for our girls to hide.”
Without a comeback, Edward stared at his mother defiantly.
“Start thinking strategically, for God’s sake!” scolded Madame Buchanan, wishing she could just pinch his ear to get him to start thinking again as she could when he was a child. “If Evelyn could prove herself in the army, she could become a symbol for all women. Just because suffrage is politically new, does not mean that it wasn’t a long time in coming. Women need someone who believes in them. Evelyn could be a shining light they could rally behind.”
“Are you trying to imply that women would vote for me if I put my daughter in harm’s way?”
“And why wouldn’t they?” asked Eleanor, reminding them that she’d been listening to them air out their family’s laundry for years. “Why wouldn’t women rally behind a senator who’s fighting for their equality? For a senator who is fighting to give them a choice to fight and die for their home, the same as any man? Already thousands of women are flocking to factories and jobs that they were once considered unfit for because they were women. Fifty percent of this country just became eligible to vote. If you had them all voting behind you…”
Eleanor let the possibilities hang in the air. Edward Buchanan was a shrewd politician, he understood the implications well enough without her having to spell them out further. In fact, she may have been laying it on a bit too thick for him to take the bait.
“Suppose I get her into a unit, what then, hmm?” he asked.
“I guess that’s up to Evelyn,” his mother replied. “If she fails to meet the physical standards the men accomplish, then she can be sent to a more … conservative position, where she can still help the war effort, but out of the front lines.”
“And if she succeeds?”
“Then you let her go make you proud.”
They left him then, to think and brood and pretend that his mother hadn’t just railroaded him into a decision.
His daughter was going to war.
He poured himself a drink and slugged it back. Straightening, he went back out to rejoin the party. He had to find a fitting unit for his daughter and someone crazy enough to take her, God help him.
-
“The Airborne?” Senator Buchanan queried an hour later around a small table. There was a sham of a card game, a social occupation for each player’s hands rather than a game that anyone was invested in, between himself and the rest of the gathered group which included the women who’d just harangued him, the President of the United States, and the top generals in attendance.
“Yes, sir,” said General Bill Lee. “It’s a new kind of warfare. The idea is to fly troops in behind the enemy lines. With proper training –”
“And you support this, Franklin?” interrupted the senator. Edward spoke to the President with a candidness that their long friendship allowed.
“I believe the idea has a lot of merit,” answered the President with a cowing look for his friend. Just because he could be candid with the President – particularly in private – did not mean that it was wise to be cavalier in the company of generals who looked to the man, both men for that matter, for decisive independent leadership.
Edward visibly took a deep breath and calmed himself. “My apologies, gentlemen,” he finally allowed, folding a hand he could have won in placation. “It has been a trying day. You were saying?”
General Lee continued to elaborate on his wild idea for modern warfare. All Edward could imagine was his daughter freefalling from thousands of feet in the air towards the unforgiving ground.
He paled and made his excuses, abandoning the pretense of a game. General Lee allowed him to slip away easily enough, content to delve into further detail with Madame Buchanan, the Roosevelt’s, and his peers.
Edward tried to walk away, only to be joined by the President a moment later.
“I could do with a drink,” suggested Roosevelt.
Edward could only agree. He allowed the President to lean on him as they retired to his study where his favorite bottle of scotch was calling his name. They walked slowly in difference to the agony the President suffered from walking in stiff braces. The hallway passed by in a blur of single-mindedness. It felt like he’d blinked and been magically transported in front of the globe that contained his scotch.
Pouring both of them a healthy two fingers he offered one to Roosevelt. The President had seated himself on the couch with noticeable relief and took the crystal tumbler before leaning back and studing his friend.
“You don’t want her to go.”
Edward sighed and took a gulp from his scotch, barely grimacing as the burn raced for his stomach. “Does any parent want their child to go to war?”
Roosevelt sighed and took off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. “This is why I spent so long trying to avoid this war. After the Great War, a whole generation was wiped out. Who knows what kind of catastrophic casualties we’ll see this time?”
“Do you think this Airborne scheme of yours will work?”
“I’m willing to give anything a try,” admitted Roosevelt. “Anything that will help us win this war, the sooner the better.”
Edward sighed. “She wants to go.”
“She seems quite adamant,” commented Roosevelt.
“Adamant?” scoffed Edward. “Determined. Spitting image of her grandmother, and just as stubborn. She’s decided to go to the front, and if we don’t put her in a regiment, I fear she’ll end up in one of those resistance movements. At least in the army she’ll get some decent training.”
“So, you think she can succeed?”
“I think she’ll die trying.”
Silence hung between them as the horrific reality of that phrase permeated into both of their minds.
“That is my fear as well,” confided Roosevelt.
Edward moved to the window. The moonlight bathed the grounds in silver.
“But I’m still willing to let Alexander fight and possibly die for his country.” Edward sighed, “I’m being hypocritical, aren’t I?”
“You love your daughter. There is nothing a parent wouldn’t do for his child.”
“That’s why I have to let her go,” he said, realizing that he meant it.
“Alright,” agreed Franklin. “Let’s see how we can go about this, then.”
-
“You cannot be serious, Edward!”
Senator Buchanan stared balefully at his wife. He’d made up his mind, now he had the nearly impossible task of convincing Carol. He’d waited until the party had ended and they were both getting ready for bed, but now it was time to face the music. “It’s what she wants.”
“That doesn’t mean we have to let her.”
“Denying her permission isn’t going to protect her. She’ll just find another way. You know she will. I found this yesterday.” He pulled a piece of paper from his breast pocket and gave it to his wife gravely.
Carol’s hands trembled as she took the receipt for passage to France in Eve’s name, scheduled to depart at the end of the month.
“Where did she get this?” Carol asked as she sank into the couch next to him, trying to draw in some of his strength.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
Carol stared at the ticket for a long moment. “What are we going to do, Edward?” She finally said, her voice vulnerable in a way he’d never heard before. “She’s my baby.”
Edward pulled his wife into his side, tucking her into his chest as he turned the problem over in his mind.
“What if,” he began, “we send her through basic training?”
Carol pushed away from him and stood up, glaring down at him with a fury holding all the passion he’d married her for.
“Are you out of your mind?!”
“Just hear me out, Carol. There are several experimental programs going on. There’s one called the Airborne. The general in charge has already expressed an interest in having her in one of their units. The program is going to be very difficult to complete, and those who don’t finish wash out into other branches of the military, but Evelyn… what if Evelyn would wash out entirely? If she fails to meet the requirements for the male soldiers, then she gives up on this nonsense and finds another way to help the war effort. A more conservative way.”
“And you’re sure she won’t make it through training?” demanded Carol, arms folded across her chest.
“As sure as I can be,” replied Edward. “Although the training is not without danger, it might be enough to scare her out of this whole soldiering notion.”
He let Carol digest this in silence, offering no further input.
“I’m angry,” Carol confided. “And I’m scared. What will I do if she dies? With Alex, I always knew that he might follow you into the military but I never thought… Evelyn…
“I know we’re setting her up for failure, but…” Carol sat back down, and let Edward comfort her.
“I know darling,” he said, pulling her close and rubbing her arm. “I know.”
-
The next morning, the family arrived home after dropping Alex off at the train station. Evelyn watched her mother go into the house and tried not to cry. Her mother hadn't spoken a single word to her all day. There was no secret why, and Evelyn tried not to be hurt at her mother’s blatant disapproval.
Eliza touched her arm in support as she walked by, but Eve shrugged it off, watching as her sister glided into the house. Her sister had made her feelings clear: Eliza was on their mother’s side, just like she always was.
Eve tried to pretend she didn’t care, that the isolation was just a small price to pay if she was going to be able to become the first woman in American history to be openly on the front lines.
Nonetheless, she missed her brother fiercely already, and her mother and sister’s distance made her heart ache.
Eve understood her parents worry and fears. Anything could happen in combat and she was their little girl. The number of polite society rules she was going to break was astronomical on that count alone. She was going to have to learn to eat, sleep, and generally live her life in front of the men in her unit.
But she wouldn’t change her mind. This was what she wanted. She wanted to help by doing something she was good at. She was good at shooting and tactics. Anyone with eyes could see that pointed towards soldiering. She was not going to live her life in a cage, withering away until all chance of glory had passed her by.
She was not going to sit idly while men died for their country. She could fight and she would do no less than any of them, even if that meant dying herself.
“Evelyn,” her father said, startling her. “Come take a walk with me?”
Bewildered, Eve nodded and joined her father as he stepped across the lawn.
The sun was bright in the morning sky, but the spring wind was bitterly cold as it snuck into her coat.
Neither of them spoke. Eve waited for her father to start the conversation, too wary of saying the wrong thing and angering him. Again.
“I know that you’ve wanted to join the army for a long time now,” he said, finally breaking the silence. Eve’s mounting anxiety threatened to choke her. “And by all rights, I shouldn't let you go.”
Eve opened her mouth to argue. He cut her off before she managed to draw enough breath to start persuading him.
“No, let me speak,” he said, and then remained infuriatingly silent as he gathered his thoughts. “Your mother and I love you very much. She does not want you to go. I do not want you to go.”
“But you let Alex go!” argued Eve, forgetting that she’d tacitly agreed to let him speak.
He glared at her, in the way fathers do, and she fell silent, face set in an apology. He nodded and continued. “Your brother is a young man and bound by law to do his duty for his country. If he had not enlisted, the draft would have called upon him sooner or later. Alex going to war does not justify your wish to join him.
“Regardless,” continued Edward, “I have decided that if this is what you really want –”
Eve flung herself into her father’s arms, excitement and exhilaration melding so tightly together in her that she was completely overcome.
He hugged her back just as fiercely, savoring the embrace.
Eve couldn’t stop smiling, beaming into her father’s face even as he pulled away.
“Now listen, alright?” he said, gripping her shoulders tightly to convey the severity of what he was trying to tell her. “There are a few conditions.”
Eve nodded, not particularly caring what they were because she was still so blissfully excited.
“You’ll join the unit I’ve selected for you. The Airborne is an entirely new concept. The general in command of the unit was at your demonstration last night,” he gave her a wry look and she bowed her head sheepishly. Sure, the demonstration hadn’t exactly been her idea, but she’d certainly had a hand in it. “He was impressed enough to offer you a chance.
“If you fail to meet the physical requirements for the unit, you will be washed out and sent home. There will be no second chance or do-over, no transfer to another unit. If you can’t keep up, you will be sent home, understand?”
Eve nodded again, unbothered, and still beaming. She could do this.
“Are you still sure it’s what you really want?” Eve opened her mouth to answer, but he held up a hand. “No, let me finish. You realize that it’s going to be hard, maybe impossible? They’ll make it tougher on you to prove that you’re not fit, just because you’re a woman.”
“I’m ready to prove them wrong,” said she, showing the stubbornness that ran in the women of his family.
He pulled her into a hug and kissed the crown of her head. “I know you are. Your train leaves for Georgia tomorrow morning. So we’d best head back so you can pack.”
Eve smiled and nodded, already making a list of things she wanted to pack to take along with her.
“I don’t think the army is ready for you, darling, but I know you’ll make me proud. Whether or not you succeed, you’ve already done so by being my daughter.”
Eve buried her face into her father’s chest as the urge to cry overtook her; she fought it back with an unsteady sigh. “Thank you, Papa.”
He kissed her head again and let her go, laughing with her as she wiped away tears of joy.
“Just promise me one thing.”
“Anything,” Eve said instantly.
“Promise me you’ll really think about this tonight? It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“I’m not going to change my mind,” Eve warned.
He sighed in resignation. “Just promise me you’ll think on it?”
Eve nodded to appease him, not intending to do any such thing. She’d spent almost a year weighing her options before enlisting Grandmamma’s help in persuading her parents. She’d wanted to be absolutely sure about her decision to join the army, about possibly – probably –dying for her country a thousand miles from home.
Eve didn’t need to reconsider. She’d made her choice.
She was going to war.
He took her arm and escorted her back to the house, offering his advice for what she would need to take along.
-
The next morning at breakfast, bag packed and waiting for her in the foyer, Eve informed her parents and Eliza that her decision had not changed. She understood what she was about to walk into and was ready for it. Evelyn Buchanan was ready to become a soldier.
The family’s second drive to the train station was just as chilly as the first, but this time Eve was too excited to care.
She exchanged embraces with her father and sister easily, and finally, when faced with her mother and the inevitability of leaving her for years, possibly forever, on a sour note without even saying goodbye eased the tight grip of her pride. Eve hugged her mother with all the fierceness she had as the strong woman wept into her hair.
The train’s whistle blew, ready to depart.
Carol pulled away from Eve with a sob and turned immediately into Edward’s comforting arms.
Eliza gave Eve another hug. “Promise me you’ll write.”
“I promise,” said Eve assuredly. “Every day, if I can manage it.”
“Good,” said Eliza, breathing shakily as she held back the tears. “I’m going to miss you, little sister. Please don’t get yourself killed.”
Eve laughed. “I’ll be back before you know it, ‘Liza. Don’t fret.”
“Write if you need anything,” instructed Edward.
“I will, Papa.”
“We love you,” said her mother.
“I love you, too,” she said, and got on the train.
She waved to her family from the window until the train pulled out from the station and she could no longer see them.
For the first time, nerves fluttered in her stomach as she headed off, ready for an adventure.
-End Chapter-