would see how much in love we were. They would know the utility of my waiting all this time for my love because they would see how handsome he was and how much of a gentleman he was, and they would see for themselves then and know with certainty that we were truly meant to be with one another forever.
Then on Friday, a letter came in the mail. It was from Mac, and I tore it open right out on the sidewalk. After his extraordinary and endearing love greetings, I read and then reread five times the sentence which began the second paragraph—You must excuse me, darling. I did all I could do to get my furlough. The Army simply can’t let go of any of us at this point.
My eyes burned with my tears, and I clasped the letter in my right hand as my arm came down to my side. I marched inside the house and fell onto my bed face-first with a thud. If I was a cursing woman, I had a few choice words to shout—not at Mac, but at this evil and endless war and those despicable madmen who had initiated it. I cried myself to sleep without eating any dinner, and Mother and Father had left me alone, which I appreciated greatly. The next day, I had trouble getting up, but finally I gave myself the incentive of going to the record shop, which I finally did manage to get to at 12:30 p.m., and after searching for something suitable, I decided upon Bing Cosby’s newest album. I came home and listened to it from start to finish four times straight through. Getting back into my normal routine was still difficult over the next few days, and although they were just being supportive, it crushed me every time one of my friends tried cheering me up. I couldn’t stand it any longer, and I wrote Mac to assure him how much I loved and missed him, and that he must write me as soon as he could.
The summer was long, hot, and quite lonely. I spent my time down by the creek and trying to avoid the attentions of Thomas and Beck. Lilly, Margie, and I did a lot of reading and baking to keep Margie’s mind off Chester’s impending draft into the army. He finally shipped out in August, and the three of us cried the rest of the day. There had been occasional and sometimes even frequent reports from neighboring communities of soldiers’ families being notified of their beloved son’s, uncle’s, or father’s deaths in battles. It came in a smattering—several here and there, followed by a period of calm, and then more nerve-wracking reports would suddenly come, descending upon us like a rapid machine gun firing. The band had several performances in front of large crowds around town, and I suppose that was okay by me because at least it diverted my attention from worry. I couldn’t wait for the cooler weather, and finally, by the following fall, my spirits were soaring again as the Allies seemed very close to victory on all fronts, and war would be over soon.
Beck seemed angry with me during the first few weeks of the new term. He had dodged me, and when I smiled in a friendly way at him as we passed each other in the hall, he kept on turning his eyes in order to avoid me. I noticed also that he had been spending a lot of his time with Lilly, and although I certainly was not jealous, as the school year went into full swing, I felt that even Lilly was not bothering with me as much as she had used to. By the beginning of November, I decided I had enough of this, and I determined to find Lilly during lunch recess outside in the schoolyard. On a cloudy and breezy Tuesday after having lunch with Margie and Thomas, I marched outside and saw Lilly sitting at one of the picnic tables as she wrote feverishly in her notebook.
I sat down beside her, and then suddenly, Beck himself came rushing over to us from the school cafeteria. We looked up at him in unison as he neared us, and it seemed he had seen a ghost as his face was ashen and pallid. “Girls, please don’t take this so bad.” My heart immediately dropped to my feet, but he continued without pausing. “Nicole saw two soldiers at Dale’s house this morning on her way to school. Thomas got a pass to go pay a visit to Dale’s parents, and they told him the news. Dale was killed in battle last week!”
Lilly and I shrieked out in horror, and Margie came running over to us. Immediately, she burst out in tears and grabbed hold of Lilly as if she knew what happened. Beck took me by the hand and asked if I was all right. I heard Lilly saying “Dale,” and then Margie herself screeched out horribly. Suddenly, everyone came running toward us, and we were surrounded by our classmates crying and screaming. It was all so bizarre to me, and as I tried consoling Lilly, I just knew in my heart that Mac was okay. I don’t know how I knew, but I just knew. The rest of the week was grave, and everybody seemed to remain desperately quiet.
We all attended the memorial service for Dale on Friday afternoon at the church. To tell the truth, I did not want to go. Any reminder of death, with Mac being so far away from me, was unwelcome even though I knew I had to attend. The service was both beautiful and yet extremely somber, and Dale’s entire family, including his father, cried throughout the entire occasion. I could not look at the photo of Dale, which was up by the podium, even though I am sure he looked handsome and dignified in his uniform. After the service, we all sat out in the backyard of the church where the ladies had prepared some food and drinks. At some point after conversing with most of the others, Margie and I sat together on the swing beneath the cotton tree. She had seemed preoccupied to me, and after a while, she looked me sternly in the eyes and said, “I don’t know if it’s my place, Corda, to bring this up, but I figure you need to know, and it’s now or never!”
“Whatever could you be talking about, Margie? You’re frightening me!”
“Well, you know how Lilly and Beck have been getting close, and how you’ve felt that they aren’t so close to you anymore?”
“Well…yes, I suppose.”
“Lilly had confided in me the week Chester had been called to serve. The reason for the two of them behaving as they’ve toward you is that Beck had fallen hard for you! He couldn’t understand why you kept on waiting for Mac to come home without even giving him a chance.” She paused, but as I was about to speak my mind, she went on. “Without even knowing it, you hurt him bad, Corda, and Lilly was there to pick up the pieces, so to speak. It’s not that she was being cruel, it’s more like she really fell for him when she saw how broken he had become over not being able to be with you.”
I nodded, feeling both a bit confused and a little flustered. “Well, of course I was waiting for Mac and staying true to him. He’s my man, Margie! I thought everybody knew it. Why would Beck ever think I wouldn’t wait for him?”
Margie blinked at me three or four times. I guess she was adjudging where my mind was at. “Look around, Corda. They’re dropping one by one. I know it sounds tough, but it is a hard-hitting fact, and I mean you no harm in the matter. I mean you to be prepared if it happens, that’s all. You’ve given the last three years of your life away to a man who hasn’t been here. Think about it. For me, it’s all right, because I’ve prepared, and I am quite flexible. I love Chester, as I had loved Dale, but I am a much more resilient and realistic girl than are you. And I don’t mean that as way of comparison, Corda. I mean that as a way of my love and friendship for you.”
I stood up and knew I couldn’t stand hearing one of my closest friends question my behavior. Before the tears came flowing, I knew I must leave at once, and so I marched out to the street and all the way home. I had become so angry that I knew my only recourse was to write Mac. I would not share any of this negative news with him, as I knew he needed to be hearing about only the happiest of things from back home. As I wrote, I kept on thinking about tomorrow, knowing that I had a very busy morning planned, and then Mother and I were going to Mac’s house for dinner. I put Margie’s words out of my mind, and I set my sights on only that and nothing else.
November 13, 1943
Saturday night
Corda Johnson
815 N. Mont Clair
Dallas 11, Texas
TO: 1st Lieutenant Harold McSwain 01298898
Company F 351st Infantry
