AMERICAN FLYGIRL
PROLOGUE
1943
What good are wings without the courage to fly?
~Atticus
The Texas sun reflected off the aircraft lined up on the flight line, and Hazel raised her hand to block the blinding glare. Her khaki coveralls—men’s size 42, the only size available—enveloped her small frame. Even with the sleeves and pant legs rolled up and a belt cinched tight around her waist, the one-piece suit engulfed her. She had worn the coveralls in the shower before hanging them to dry outside during breakfast, but they were already covered in a layer of dust like everything else around the airfield.
Two Army Air Corps lieutenants walked onto the tarmac, and she held her breath watching them approach. No one had said anything yet about her mishap yesterday. Maybe her instructor hadn’t had time to file a report, but that seemed unlikely. These men were coming to tell her she’d washed out and order her to leave. Disappointment formed its fist in her stomach.
A month into training and already too many students to remember had washed out, been dismissed and sent home. There had been three last week. The commanding officer wasn’t kidding on the first day when he’d said, “Look left and right. Only one of you will be here for graduation.”[i] Some were due to illness; one had an ear issue during descents; another received two demerits for being late to classes; and one hadn’t passed a flight check after refusing to go on a date with her instructor. Dating between students and instructors was strictly forbidden. It didn’t matter. He failed her, and she was sent home.
Hazel’s eyes followed the two officers as they continued walking past, wishing her a good morning. She gave them a wide smile and exhaled. Feeling reckless, she pulled a red lipstick tube from a pocket and walked to her plane. Pressing gently, she formed the Chinese characters of her name on the nose beneath the window. She was going home today, that much she knew, and without an opportunity to say goodbye to her friends. When she returned from this morning’s practice flight, if she would even be allowed one more practice flight, her belongings would be packed and waiting, her bed rolled up and empty. Marking the plane with her name might bring luck. She had nothing to lose.
Falling out of a plane was not good.