Cadet Life

Grandma reached down and picked up her nursing cap, still as crisp and clean as it was the first year, from her bed.  She observed the two black stripes lining the cuff, thinking back to when she didn't have a single stripe.  That was back when she and Raymond would go dancing at the Omaha ballrooms.  Tonight would be just like old times, only she would savor each moment more than ever.
"Only six more months until we get the third stripe," said a voice from behind her.
Grandma turned around quickly and shoved her cap and uniform behind her.  "Oh. Hi Martha."
"You're taking your midnight leave tonight?"  Martha questioned.
"Yep.  Raymond is back from war,"  Grandma couldn't conceal her joy as she plopped down on the bed.
"Oh I bet you're just dying to see him again!"  
"You have no idea." 
"The war is winding down it seems," Martha pondered.
"Thank goodness!"  Grandma nodded as that was about all she could think to say.  What else was there to say after a tiresome war had claimed the lives of many and the energy of all of the rest
"Do you think the government will honor our nursing certificates if we never go overseas?"  Martha continued to wonder.
"I don't know.  I'll worry about that later."
"I just hope this doesn't all go to waste, or if they make us pay for all of the training."
"I don't know.  Let's not waste our time worrying!"  Grandma shrugged.  Living in a large family on a farm throughout the Great Depression and the war, she had learned to take one issue at a time without fretting about the next.
They sat there for a few moments as the other cadets started pouring into the dormitory.
Martha began to giggle, "Ha, do you know what would be so funny?  When the witch comes to check on us for lights out, I'm gonna stand behind the sink and jump out at her, scare her."
"Ha, I don't know what to say about that.  It'll be hard for me to keep a straight face."
"Remember that time when she yelled at you and you yelled back?  She doesn't dare mess with you know!"  Martha noted.
Grandma primped herself up for her night out while the other girls got ready for bed.  They all watched the hand of the clock tick by.
"Martha!  It's 8:59!"  One girl called out.
Martha hurried over to the sink behind the door.  Everyone quietly anticipated the door opening while pretending to keep themselves busy with other things.  The door creaked open and the witch barged in.
"Girls! Lights...Ahhhhhhhhhh!  Martha!  Get into bed.  I'd slap you silly if I wasn't so nice!" The witch barked at the stunned cadets, her face bubbling red with anger and childish embarrassment.
Everyone sat still as stone on their bed, pasting looks of shock on their face only to cover up the laughter they suppressed.
While Grandma would have found much joy in this any other night, she was so preoccupied she hadn't even paid any attention to Martha.
"McGill, are you taking your midnight leave tonight?"
"Yes ma'am."
Grandma grabbed her midnight leave ticket and handed it over to the witch.
"Be back by midnight!" The witch called out at her, but the noise was a blur.
She was already heading down the hallway, her black heels clicking against the worn wooden floor, echoing throughout the desolate corridor.  She slid out the front door into the cool fall air and began searching the park bench at the street corner.  He had to be there.  He said in the letter he would be there.
As her eyes focused, there was a dark figure sitting at the bench.  It had to be him.  Grandma took off in a dead sprint across the muddy lawn in her heels. 
"Raymond!"

* * *

During the early 1940s, World War II plagued nations across the planet.  In the United States, most of the country's young men were overseas fighting.  There was need for desperate need for nurses, so the government came up with a training program.  With this program, woman could go through a free training for three years.  At the end of the three years, they would be sent to help with the war.  St. Joseph's college in Omaha got its roots from starting up one of these programs.  My grandma attended St. Joseph's.  She was dating her soon-to-be-husband at the time, and would take her midnight leaves to go visit him, excepts for the period of time when he was at war.  The midnight leave was just one of the strict guidelines given by the college.  Cadets were given one midnight leave ticket a month, which gave them permission to stay out until midnight.  On any other night, they were required to be in bed by 9.  My grandma recalls there being one highly intelligent, sociable girl who would have made a wonderful nurse, that stole an extra midnight ticket from the front desk.  She was caught in the act and expelled immediately.  My grandma recalls attending classes, including religious ones, and working in the hospital at the same time.  They wore bleach white uniforms with caps.  For every year in the program, they earned a stripe on their cap. The cadets were given a $15 stipend per month, which was used for clothing, their midnight leave dates, or any other necessities.  Cadets were not allowed to leave on the weekends, but sometimes my grandma would sneak out and catch the train home from the Durham station.

* * *

The witch slammed the door shut.  My grandma held her breath and waited for the witch's footsteps to taper off down the hallway.  She arose out of bed and grabbed her already packed suitcase.  She quickly made her bed and packed up her uniform into her suitcase.  Another girls was one step ahead of her, already slowly cracking open the window to prevent it from creaking.  She and three other cadets tip toed over to the window.  One at a time, they slid out of the window.  My grandma slung her suitcase over her shoulder and climbed slid out under the glass pane.  She fell to the ground and headed in the opposite direction of St. Joseph's campus.  With class and confidence, she walked down the streets of Omaha to the Durham train station.  The large hall was except for the man at the ticket booth and young couple sitting on a leather-coated bench in the far corner.  She crossed the intricate tile floor to the ticket booth and pulled out the last of her monthly stipend.  She pushed the two crumpled dollars across the counter.
"One ticket for the 11:00 train to Madison please.  And a locker."
The man handed her a ticket and her money, "Please, it's on us.  Have a nice trip, ma'am."
My grandma pulled her uniform and folded it up neatly into a locker.  This way, she could throw on her uniform upon returning and walk onto campus as if she never left. 
My grandma walked over to a bench and picked up a newspaper.  She penciled out the missing words of the crossword until a voice cam over the speakers, announcing the arrival of her train.
A few people exited the train, leaving six other riders.  My grandma boarded it herself and took a seat.  The full moon illuminated the harvested fields that zoomed past her.  She watched the fields zoom by until the train approached Madison.  She knew the roar of the train horn would awake her father, as it always did, and he would come to meet her at the station.  Helping her family out on the farm on occasional weekends eased her guilt of being away as as well as her homesickness. If the administration looked the other way, she would take advantage of it.

* * *

The war ended within a few months.  My grandma was able to finish out the program free of cost, and the government offered them certificates.  Fortunately, my grandma was never sent overseas.  She married Raymond and they settled down in Madison.  She continued working as a nurse at the Regional Center, a mental hospital, in Norfolk.

Ha