The Lincoln times., 1945-04-09
CHAPTER /

1t was easy to speak now-almost
too easy. But the first time she had
stepped forward on a stage, facing
q sea of upturned faces, Laura Blake
had been more terrified than in any
encounter with the dangers of the
battlefront.
It had seemed to her, that first
time she spoke to the senior girls OF
a high school, that those upturned
faces showed nothing but defiance.
"Just try to make US interested in
what you're going to say"-that was
the challenge she felt. But Laura
had soon learned that only her own
foolish stage fright had created such
an idea. She knew, after her first
few speeches, that anyone in the uni
form of a u. s. Army Nurse, espe-
cially one who had nursed American
soldiers in the jungles of New Guinea,
could thrill the high school girls OF
the country.
They listened eagerly to every word
she said. They crowded forward aft
er each talk, to ask for more details
about joining the Army Nurse Corps.
Anyway, her speaking tour had
been a great success, and her superb
or officers were pleased. When they
found that enlistments in the Nurse
Cadets jumped after her appearances,
they gave her more and more engage
ments to fill. Naturally, Laura was
delighted, and felt she was doing an
important job.
But now she had been home from
the war for three months. She had
left the Southwest Pacific with mix
ed feelings-happiness at getting a.
way from jungles and heat, but at
the same time sorrow at leaving her
friends among the doctors and nurses
and, above all, Jerry Donaldson, the
bomber pilot to whom she was en-
gagged.
At least once a week lately, she
had been asking for a transfer of
duty. Her superior officers had al
ways turned down her requests. They
understood, they said, just how she
felt, but she was one of the best
speakers they'd ever sent out, and she
was to be kept on the job where she
could do the most good.
It was not that she hadn't enjoyed
being back in the United States. 1t
had been wonderful to sleep in real
beds. and to sleep as long as she
liked. During the first few weeks, be-
fore she had been assigned to her
speaking job, she had been on leave.
She had indulged all those silly
whims she'd bedn dreaming about
during those months in the jungle
movies, a manicure, wpdow-shopping
on Fifth Avenue during her stay in
New York.
But none of that had lasted very
long. And not even her visit with her
family in her home town, Button,
had been all that she had hoped.
Then had come her instructions to
20 On a recruiting tour, and she had
been elated.
But now-well, she had had
enough. Now she wanted to go back
to New Guinea, to Australia. Her
Jerry was in the sky there, blasting
the enemy with bombs. She wanted
to be there, too!
However, she had been turned
down So many times that she had
almost given up hope. Now she was
ending the swing of fourteen cities
that had carried her to Richmond,
Virginia. Here she expected anoth-
Ell itinerary.
When the talk was over, she went
back to her hotel. Yes, there was
mail waiting. She stopped in the lob
by and tore open the envelope. 1t
was not an itinerary at all. Just
short order telling her to report IN
Washington for further instructions.
She dashed upstairs and packed
her bag quickly, then called to ask
about the next train to Washington.
There was one in half an hour, and
she made it.
Laura fought her way through the
jsstling crowds at Union Station in
Washington and tried to get near the
taxi stand. After edging forward for
ten minutes, she began to think that
walking would be the best idea, even
thonugh it was a long hike to head