In June our whole squadron was transferred to Paris. Charlie was sent to Newfoundland but I still saw him there when coming in with patients. We were now stationed at Paris' Orly field, a small strip in those days with just a couple of buildings. We were housed in the old school house which I had stayed in the previous November.
The first Sunday I was there, Kay and I and several other nurses attended a dance at the Paris Red Cross. I saw a Captain in jump boots, wearing parachute wings, went up to him and asked if he knew Lt. Lyle Mercer. He said yes, that he was in the 82nd Airborne Division, stationed in a little town called Epinal, about 250 miles from Paris. Kay, Sandy, Billie and I put in for a weekend pass to visit Sarky.
When our passes came through in a few weeks we boarded a train at the Gare du Nord station at 7 P.M. We had a whole car to ourselves with two tiers of bunk beds, a commode and toilet, neither functional. The conductor locked the door and told us not to unlock it under any circumstances until we reached Epinal. We chatted, read and played cards until dark and then slept. It was cold and dirty, the upper windows were broken and coal dust poured in, noisy. In the middle of the night the train stopped; there was running and shouting. Someone pounded on our door to open up. We couldn't see out so left door locked. Later we were told the train had been attacked by bandits.
We finally arrived at Epinal about 8 A.M. It looked like the end of the earth, nothing but the station. Sandy, in her rusty high school French, tried to ask directions to the American base but no one understood her. We started to walk toward the town which we could see in the distance. We had only gone about a block when a jeep with GIs whizzed by and we shouted. Schreech! They quickly stopped, backed up and asked: "Are you American nurses?" We replied in the affirmative, asked directions to the base headquarters. The GIs said jump in and we'll take you there. We arrived shortly, windblown but intact.
We entered, found an open office door where a woman was typing, approached her and asked if she knew a Lt. Mercer. She was looking for a file when I heard a shout from the doorway: "Baby, what the hell are you doing here?" It was Sarky. He had seen some females in American uniforms and followed them to see if they might know me. What a surprise, what a reunion! He got a jeep and took us back to his room in a nearby hotel, said he'd be back to take us to lunch. The hotel was small hotel, the only one in town - sinks in the rooms, two toilets on each floor but only one bath tub in the whole building. We immediately washed our hair, lined up to take our turn at the tub.
Sarky was back at noon with a couple of other officers to take us to lunch in the mess in the hotel. He said the word of our arrival had spread fast and he had been besieged with requests for dates with the other nurses. There were no other U.S. camps nearby, no American females nearer than Paris, so we were a scarce commodity.
The other three nurses left by train Sunday but Sarky persuaded me to drive back with him on Monday- he had asked for a three day leave. I can't believe what a chance I took, overstaying my leave again, wondering if I could find another sympathetic colonel. There was no problem, no one even missed me. The war was over anyway. I still remember that long jeep ride back to Paris, cold, rough-riding. But I was in love so I don't remember complaining. In Epinal Sarky and I had gone to his commanding general - "Jumping Jim" Gavin - to begin the paperwork on permission to marry. Lot of red tape, approval had to come from Dwight Eisenhower's European Theatre headquarters. Approval would take some time.
Paris duty was great - exciting and a lot of fun. One could go to the French theaters for stage plays, attend the American USO shows. I particularly recall seeing a production of "Oklahoma." We were overwhelmed with dates from officers we met on flights, going to wonderful restaurants. I especially recall one called Tour d'Argent. The French really had a way with food. We went to nightclubs such as the popular Lido whose stage featured scantily clad dancers, very much like Las Vegas today.
We would fly patients to the Azores, take 24 hours rest, or less, then fly on to Newfoundland or Bermuda, with 24 hours rest, then on to New York or Miami. When in New York we could usually pick up tickets for a live theatre production or a new film. I really loved New York if I was not there by myself.
One trip there I learned there was no room at the base so I had to go to a hotel in New York City, lovely place but all by myself. Most women I knew were reluctant to go to a bar alone, so I sat in that hotel five days without company. My only recreation was eating three meals a day. I tried to talk to the waiters but they were not friendly at all. People in uniform had a bad reputation as low tippers, and I'm sure I was no exception (is that the truth!!) Anyway, I felt the civilians were terribly unfriendly and I never saw anyone in uniform with whom to get acquainted.
I had to stay within phone contact so I couldn't even go out for a walk. I don't think I have ever been so lonely. The last night there I was in the dining room when a young, attractive girl was dining alone a few tables from me. We smiled at each other and I had the waiter deliver her a note, asking if she would like to join me for coffee and dessert. She did and I learned she was attending a six week "Makeover Course by Helene Rubenstein." She was pretty, chubby and wanted a new image by the time she started college in the fall. She was on a reducing diet, taking classes in nutrition, social amenities, dress and makeup. I invited her to my room after supper, having heard a human voice I was reluctant to let her go. She seemed to hesitate but finally said she'd come up for a little while. Afterwards I wondered if she thought I was a lesbian. Anyway, we chatted further and she asked if I could arrange to come and visit her school the next day. I promised to see if I could work something out and said I'd call her. Early the next morning I had a call that my flight was ready so I never saw her again.
Comments
Post a Comment
Comments