Below is the second example of a students weekly letter.

November 7, 1943

Dear Dad,

Today was one of the roughest days yet; I was flying dual on a cross-country flight to Amarillo airforce Base in a North American AT-6 when the engine suddenly quit! My heart raced, and my body went stiff, but I managed to remember your words about the engine is not the only "God-damn thing that holds up a plane" and how not to get "crazy when that engine dies, cause it will sometime, somewhere." There was no time for craziness, but Doris, my partner, did get in a lot of screaming.

I flew the "Texan," wheels up, into an open prairie surrounded on three sides by a long winding canyon. the plane hit fairly smoothly, but didn't stop right away the way I thought it would; it kept sliding, and I could see a huge open pit lunging up before me. I guess the sleet had formed a thick ice sheet and the plane was screeching and skating quickly on the flat surface toward the edge, slamming me side to side in my harness, jerking my shoulder into the side of the plane, but I didn't feel the pain. The screeching stopped, but I could still hear a crunching sound. I looked out on the right side in front of the wing, one of those tough little mesquite trees was preventing the plane from further skidding into the abyss of the canyon, but the weight of the plane was pulling at it, along with the wind.

Climbing out fast, the pain shot through my whole left side, and I knew something was surely wrong with it. Doris got a bump on the head, but that was all. Then that icy west Texas wind hit my face, and I was certain we were in for trouble; we hadn't seen a farm house; we had been too preoccupied to look for anything but a landing place. Hiking down a gravel road toward Route 66, my fleece lined uniform deflected some of the gusts, but that shoulder gave me fits. Seeing that jeep round the hill made me cry, and when the soldiers put me in the back, I really sobbed with the pain. the base doctor said I had dislocated my shoulder; the plane fared better; it had a bent prop. I am okay, and will enjoy a few days rest here. The base is forwarding the bill to you.

Well, Dad, are you still happy you taught your little girl how to fly? I love this job, still, even with a bum shoulder.

Speaking of bums, how is Mack and his new girlfriend, Effie? Dad, even the Catholic church has publicly denied mixing races is sinful. The Bible is referring to the commingling of idol worshipping pagans and godly Jews. I agree they should commingle somewhere other than the back seat of your Packard, but try keep God out of your raging condemnation of their association.

Be glad Effie stopped in Pawhuska to earn money to finish her trip to Detroit, and you had the chance to hire her. She sounds stout enough to help around the farm, and she would have to be some smarter than the help you have because she stopped Mack from giving away your chickens that night to the "chicken inspector." After a 300 pound negro maid chased him swinging a dead chicken by the neck, he probably will not be trying to steal any more soon. Anyway, now you have Effie, Auntie Lee is free to return to Houston, and you will have more freedom to weasel on your food rationing. Dad, have you tried calling Effie by her name, rather than your black mammy? These negroes are getting more and more aware they should be considered equals, and you wouldn't want to lose her. War is changing attitudes of negroes, Mexicans, and also, women; I think for the good.

Even Auntie Lee is changing; I still cannot believe the news Auntie is marrying Major Frost at Christmas! I can't wait to hear how their first meeting goes. Is he really coming straight from Washington D.C.; to get married, no first date, no engagement? Are there no women in D.C.?

In answer to ;your question, yes, I have been watching the news about the coal worker's strike. When Mack saw the one dollar an hour wages of the miners, I am sure her did get a shock; remind him you are providing room and board. If he goes on strike, let him go. The farm workers have never formed a union, and I have confidence Mack's organizational abilities will fail in attracting members.

These problems seem so trivial when I read the war news columns in the paper. Did you read the account of the Don and Kuban Cossacks' attack in Russia near the Dnieper River? I can envision that scene of German soldiers fleeing in their wake, crying, "Die Cossacken Kommen" - the Cossacks are coming, and the fleeing enemy columns being slashed to pieces with their main weapons, the saber. Such an ugly picture! I feel repulsion for the actual acts of war, but know the grim necessity of the battle. I am still very satisfied in helping to end it

At the moment I am a little weary and I need to rest. This has been a long day; I really miss you right now. this will be my second Thanksgiving without all of you. Tell Mom I miss her, and I will be sure to always keep my make up properly done an I will use the mascara sparingly. Jackie Cochran always takes time to look like a lady before she leaves a plane; she is a demi-god to most of the women in the WASP and I plan to imitate her to the best of my ability. (Did you catch the news the WAFS and WFTD merged in August?)

I love you. Take good care of yourself until I am back to do it for you.

Author: Becky Driscoll
E-Mail: bdriscoll@dcccd.edu