Just as the nights need stars As the day needs the sun My soul has a need for you Where are you my Love? I'll seek you forever

It was mid July of 1942. A group of us girls had just graduated from basic training and was on our way to our new assignment. I'd never felt so unsure of myself until I glanced at my reflection while passing the office window. I was now a WAC, part of the Women's Armed Corps. We saluted the sergeant and handed her our papers. She took it and then gazed at us. "At Ease soldiers. Welcome to Company five, Second Platoon. Your to report to dorm number 12 across the base, you'll receive further instructions there. Are there any questions?" she asked, with a stern look. "No Sergeant" "Then you're dismissed" she said, saluting. We saluted again, with perfect hand coordination, and left. The blaring sun engulfed me as I crossed Fort Des Moines base with my heavy duffle bag.

I'd arrived here seven weeks ago from Alabama. Leaving a crying mother and a hopeless town. This was a dream of mines ever since I'd left high school. Flyers circulated my hometown for colored girls to join the Women's Army Corp. I somehow passed the written exam and was called out of some thousands of Negro girls from across the country. My father barely supported us by selling crops and repairing cars, while my mother took in laundry. As soon as I'd graduated from high school, he died, leaving my mother to carry the burden. I promised my mother I'd help her out as best I could with the money I'd send. She still had my two younger brothers to feed, and rent to pay, so joining the WAC was a lifesaver. By the time we crossed the base, I'd already saluted two sergeants and one captain.

My short rigorous training had helped me learn the basics of military life, something I'd never thought was important, until now. Coming here to Iowa, was my first time away from home. I'd just turned twenty two and glad to be out of Alabama. The scorching summer heat, boring surroundings and blatant discrimination had run its course. A few of us was assigned to this dorm, while the other girls were sent to dorms spread out across the huge base. The larger dorms had flower boxes scattered around its perimeter to add color to the dismal brown structures. I found dorm 12, dragged my duffle bag to the door and walked in. There was a stretch of silence as I came face to face with about seven pretty and not so pretty Negro women. Some greeted me, others turned away. I glanced around for a bunk and found an empty one at the end of the dorm.

As I walked, I was sandwiched between bunks, two large fans, footlockers and halfdressed women. My neighbor was a skinny light complexioned girl about my age. She held my gaze. "Hello, I'm Mildred Defoe" she said, holding out her hand. I reached out my hand. "Olivia Mae Williams. Glad to meet you" "This your first time in Iowa?" she asked. "Yes. Never been out of Alabama" "Me too. I'm from Virginia myself" "How long you think we'll be here?" I asked as I studied her face. "Indefinitely. Until they ship us somewhere" Before we could finish our conversation, a short imposing figure interrupted us. She held a captive audience as she stood there blowing her whistle.

 Everyone stood at attention. "Welcome ladies to Company five, 2rd Plattoon. I'm Sergeant Johnson and I will be your unit Sergeant from now until you leave. These will be your sleeping quarters and since your basic training is over, you will now apply what you've learned here as well. I will inspect these dormitories everyday at anytime. Anyone found to be out of order, sloppy or just plain old lazy will hear from me. Get to know your new quarters and all rules that apply. Chow time will be at eighteen, twelve and sixteen hundred hours. If you miss it, too bad. You will rise every morning at seventeen hundred hours for roll call, anyone late will be reprimanded. Any questions?" The room stayed still until the sergeant left. Whispers and taunts were now hurled at the sergeant, now out of hear shot. I didn't seem to care for her one way or another, but I knew most sergeants to be stern, while others showed some heart. I unpacked my duffle bag, while Mildred, my bunk neighbor talked on and on about nothing. The others seem to be talking or just surveying their new home.

A merciless sun now glared through the window near my bunk, making me wonder if I'd chosen the right spot. The dorms were clean, but tight, not affording us too much room. I veered my eyes to left of the room. A big boned girl was standing some six feet from me, talking. She let out a haunting laugh every two minutes whenever the other girl said something. She was fairly nice looking, but looked as if she could lift a dozen women. The girl she was talking to was a cocoa brown, with long hair and sleepy eyes. Across from me there were skinny, tall, short and every kind of differences you could find. Having this many women in one dormitory would surely cause friction sooner or later.

 Basic training was something I was glad to be over. I almost went crazy after the rigorous back breaking training they put us through. I cried every night to go home, and prayed every morning to stay sane. I went home to Alabama after six weeks, happy to see my mother and brothers again, but eventually becoming bored and couldn't wait to get back to Fort Des Moines. I didn't have much to leave behind, except my family. Jobs were scarce and when the country put out the call for women who wanted to travel, learn a skill and help their country; I signed on. Now looking back I wonder if I'd made the right decision.

A tall locker stood beside our bunks, basically for our uniforms and other clothes, while the toilets and showers were in the back. It was just enough room for ten of us. Just before I sat down, a PFC (Private first class) came in to announce that mail call would be by the mess hall everyday at twenty two hundred hours and grub or dinner was about to be called, so we scurried to leave. Immediately I was shoved aside by Big Bones. She turned, giving me a contentious look, I stepped aside realizing I was no match for this girl. No longer that sixteen year old who probably would've dropped her back in high school. I was now twenty two, and wanted to act like it. On my way out, we passed a group of frightened new recruits getting off the bus. I thought of my first day at basic training, and knew how they felt.

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