Chapter 2

By Monday morning Laurie was nervously energized about going to work. Her uncle had given her forms to fill out on Sunday, but she still had to take a physical. While riding on the “El” to Angus Meat Packing she was struck by the number of women who were headed to work. There were a few older males but hardly any young men. Even men her uncle’s age were scarce, many having gone into the service as officers and NCOs, filling supporting roles to the fighting forces.

Once inside Angus Meat, it was the same—lots of women from as young as herself to older, motherly, and even grandmotherly types. Her physical was the first one she had ever had. Being palpated by a male doctor’s hand made her uncomfortable. It caused mysteriously racy thoughts to traipse through her mind as well, for which she felt guilty. He was an older grandfatherly type himself, but she liked the tactile feel of his hands on her body. But being touched by a male—even an older one--made her feel vulnerable. Afterward, she would see him in the halls of the building from time to time and would gradually get over the embarrassment of him havening seen her naked parts. All along though she would wonder what he thought about the parts that he could see.

It surprised her that Angus Meat Packing had a support group for women who had lost husbands and boyfriends in the war as well as those who were living with severely wounded veterans. At first, she resisted attending but when she saw several younger women in her age group going to the meetings, she decided to check it out. At first, she was stoic, doubting that the support of others would help her. But soon she saw how other women were being helped by the support of others and how they were easing back into the flow of life without carrying their losses with them, at least not showing it.

Her pay rate was $40 per week, more money than she thought she would ever make in her life. Within a month though she was promoted to supervisor earning $50. Within a year she would be making $65.

Though Josh and Beth didn’t want to charge her for board Laura insisted upon paying them 25% of her take-home pay. They took the money and opened a savings account for her that they planned to give her when she got married. Josh Cross was proud of his niece. He’d vouched for her to his company and was pleased that Angus quickly identified her as a “keeper.”

Within three weeks she had grown accustomed to the busyness of the large city. While at first, it was confusing, she found herself energized and more fulfilled in the bustling metropolis. She loved working at Angus Meat Processing ... was taken by the bigness of the place where hundreds of people worked. Quickly realizing that she had more in common with Uncle Josh than her father she began growing more attached to him. Not only was he outwardly kind and affectionate she felt at ease with him because of his worldliness. Aunt Beth was a big city girl from the east who said that Josh had embraced city life from the time he left Cedar Junction to go to college at Northwestern University, something she also recognized in Laura.

Though she was still nursing the pain of Billy’s loss Laura began accepting that had he lived and had come back to her in Cedar Junction she might well have been stifled as a married woman stuck in a small farming community. As she grew more comfortable with her new environment, she realized that Chicago was the place for her. Having the taste for the variety that Chicago offered it was like the World War I song lyrics suggested, “How’re ya gonna keep them down on the farm after they’ve seen Paree.” Chicago hummed with excitement; it was the home to huge businesses that had converted from manufacturing consumer goods to total war production.

Every business existed to support the war effort. There were signs all over the city to buy War Bonds and War Stamps: to recycle papers and trash, to save bacon grease to be collected for use in lubricating the guns on warships. Everybody was “all in.” There were fundraisers everywhere, even in Chicago’s honky-tonk districts. A Tribune headline read, “Burlesque Row earns $40,000 Stripping for War Bonds!”

Hospitality for servicemen wasn’t just limited to the city’s tawdry neighborhoods. More wholesome, nonalcoholic entertainment was offered at USO Centers which included the Auditorium Hotel where a bowling alley was set up on the stage of the Louis Sullivan-designed Theater.

Chicago was widely known among servicemen as THE place to be on furlough, THE place to meet girls—wholesome girls. And the Auditorium Hotel was THE place in Chicago. Paul Hartman, a 17-year-old Kansas farm boy, was among the 1,200 attending a dance at the Chicago Service Men’s Center, just down the street from the Auditorium, when he told a Chicago Tribune reporter, “Everybody’s so doggoned friendly here that it makes you feel all tingly inside.”

Tillie and Sandra lost their boyfriends on D-Day. Mary Molnar’s husband was killed in an airdrop the night before. These three friends convinced Laura to attend the grief support group with them. When she walked into the large room, she was amazed to see over a hundred girls listening while someone spoke about her loss and how she was coping with it.

The large room was like an auditorium with smaller rooms around the perimeter that accommodated At Angus Meat Processing Laura became friends with Tillie McMartin, a girl of eighteen, Sandra Baginski 20, and a woman of twenty-five by the name of Mary Molnar who was left with a three-year-old child when her husband was killed at Normandy. They all worked in Quality Control together. It was Mary Molnar who said, “Your grief will be easier to deal with Laura when you find a purpose.”

Curious but uneasy about Mary’s statement Laura asked, “Have any of you found that purpose yet?”

Wrinkling her brow Mary looked at the other two girls and rolled her eyes as she said, “We’re working on it.”

Laura asked, “When you work it out and you’ve gotten to know me well enough do you think you might share it with me? I’m just looking for ideas to help me get through all this crap.”

While Mary and the others looked furtively at one another Laura was intrigued by their secretive “eye-rolling” looks. When she insisted that they bring her in on the secret Mary simply said, “If you come with us to the USO Serviceman’s Center and volunteer a hostess with us maybe we’ll let you in on the secret.”

Sandra giggled as she said, “Most of those boys just want to get into our pants though.”

Tillie added, “They ALL want to get into our pants Laura—every boy that’s not fluffy that is. Some of those G.I.s at the USO push it.” With a smirk, she wrinkled her brow at Laura and said, “But I assume you’ve handled boys like that before.”

Shrugging her shoulders she continued, “But most of them, even though they might try to convince you otherwise are just scared virgins who are afraid that they’ll die before they ever get laid.”

Laura considered saying something about the callous talk but decided to let it go. As she recalled how Billy begged her to let him ‘put it in’ she couldn’t hold back the sobs and gave way to a flood of tears. All three of her friends wrapped her in a group hug and Sandra said, “We all understand Laura.”

As Laura continued to cry Mary said, “We all make mistakes honey. Mine was letting Connor do it without a rubber.” She chuckled. “I got pregnant and have a three-year-old child by him to deal with now.”

Sniffing, Laura said, “At least you HAVE his child.”

Mary came back with, “OUR child; I didn’t want to sound like I was bragging Laura.”

Both of the other girls chimed in that their biggest mistake was not letting their boyfriends “get into our pants.”

Sandra said, “When you think about this it was like criminal behavior letting the boys, we hoped to marry get killed without them Biblically knowing our bodies.”

Tillie said, “Whoever made those stupid rules anyway.” She looked at Mary. “At least you have something of Connor to include in your life forever.”

Wanting to ease the melancholy of the klatch Laura sniffed to clear her nose and said, “Maybe they had sex with a prostitute or something.”

Mary’s chuckle was sarcastic as she said, “That’s a fine how-do-you-do.”

But Tillie offered, “No, I’ve thought about that myself. I didn’t let Charlie do it to me but maybe he at least had the experience of fucking some woman that way.”

Sandra said, “I’ve thought about it too and have felt so guilty. I hope he got to know somebody like that.” Pausing she added, “Maybe the four of us can be somebody for some of those boys.”

“It’s different in my case,” Mary said. “But if he wanted to get laid I would rather that he did it and felt guilty about it than not having him take care of his needs at all. This sacrifice stuff is BULLSHIT.”

With one of the buses showing up the discussion needed to end. “Anyway,” she said in parting, “I think a purpose like being somebody’s somebody would be worthwhile ... at least during the war.”

Heading for home on the EL that night the clack-clack-clack of the wheels on the track helped put Laura’s thoughts into place. She considered Mary’s reference to “purpose” and being “somebody’s somebody” and realized that this subject must have been what the other girls had been so secretive about before they brought her in on it.

Ever since learning of Billy’s death, she had kept telling herself that she would never deny sex again to a boy that needed it. Those thoughts put the fear into her head that if she acted on it, she might become a slut. But with the awareness of what the other girls had just said about the futility of “holding out,” she reconsidered the morality of mercy fucking and whispered, “I wonder.”

The crowd of military men in the large USO hall was overwhelming. Had she not been with her three friends she might have chickened out and not gone inside the hall. But Sandra, Tillie, and the twenty-five-year-old Mary Molnar (a grown woman in their eyes) acted completely girlish as they were going through the door.

There was a big band on stage and men dancing with women both military and USO hostesses, and sometimes other men. Like teenage girls Mary, Sandra and Tillie introduced Laura to the USO director who put them to work with the thirty or so other girls serving donuts coffee, and water. No alcohol was sold in the USO. The rest of the women volunteers about a hundred were dancing with military men.