I was one of five women chosen to serve our country, fighting side by side with the men, and only some of us had come home. Being surrounded by friends and enemies, having to choose who you can save, who you can love, and how to survive is something...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It was a rainy September afternoon in the Colorado capital when I was driven up to the fancy hotel that stood tall in the middle of the large city. When the car was parked in front of the grand glass doors, I glanced briefly at my reflection in the window of the car. White hair, wrinkles, heavy dark bags under my eyes...boy, I've gotten old.
My driver opened my door, allowing the cold wet air to come rushing into the warm car. I shivered as the frigid air penetrated deep into my bones. I pulled my crocheted cream shawl closer around my frail body as I took the extended hand from my driver to exit the car. He held a black umbrella over my head as he closed the car door behind me. He turned back to me, arm outstretched, allowing me to hold onto him for balance as he escorted me into the elegant lobby of this grand hotel.
When we entered, I took in the inside of this magnificent place. The gray marble floors reflected the crystal chandeliers hanging majestically overhead. Despite the rainy day, the massive windows over the doors allowed the light from the outside to seep in. A three-tiered water fountain sat directly beneath the chandelier, filling the atmosphere with the gentle comforting sounds of rushing water. I spotted a few pennies at the bottom of the pool where someone in need of luck had tossed in a little bribe to make it so. The place was certainly pretty and it felt updated from the last time I saw it but to the hotel's credit, I was only a young girl when I saw it last, so...it could be my memory.
My driver went to the front desk in the lobby to ask about where I was to go. I was there to meet with a nice young man, who called one sunny May afternoon to ask if I could come in to speak about my personal experiences during the war.
Once my driver got the directions, he walked me down the beige carpeted hallway to one of the many conference rooms inside the hotel. We passed by a small cafe on our way to the conference room and the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled my nostrils, warming me with the promise of drinking a nice big cup. We turned into the empty boring gray conference room, where the walls were made up of frosted glass surrounding a sizeable mahogany table. Out of habit, I chose the plumed leather chair facing the frosted glass door.
My driver looked at me kindly before asking, "Shall I bring you some coffee?"
I smiled kindly at him, thankful he could read my mind. "That would be lovely, thank you."
He returned the gesture and left to fulfill his offer. I sat there in the boring, quiet conference room alone. I wasn't sure what this individual wanted from me and I was honestly scared. It had been a very long time since I spoke about what I went through during the war - who I met, who I watched get killed, and yet, here I sat, about to break that nearly lifelong silence. I thought over how I would begin but found myself at a loss. I simply wasn't prepared for this. I just hoped my mystery caller would understand.
The frosted door swung open and a nice-looking young man with a warm smile on his face, carrying two blue cups of steaming coffee walked in. He must have bumped into my driver on his way in. I smiled as soon as he extended one of the large ceramic cups to me which I took without hesitancy, cradling it carefully with my wrinkled and shaky hands. He sat down across from me at the large table and stated, "It's a real honor to meet you, Mrs. Palmer."
I inhaled the rich aroma that puffed out of the cup. "Please, call me Emmeline," I offered, "No need to be so formal."
The man smiled back. He exclaimed, "Emmeline, I must say I am just...excited you have agreed to meet with me today to share your part of the story."
"I must ask, why the sudden interest?" I pondered. Memories of the old days were already pushing toward the surface like a boiling pot of water left untouched and I hadn't even started speaking yet.
He set his cup down on the table with a clunk. "I've always had an interest. To be honest with you, I didn't think any of you had survived," he began. "The other veterans we spoke to never mentioned you or the others. It took a lot of digging and researching to be able to discover that some of you did survive the war."
I smiled, cupping the warm mug in my hands, willing the heat to soak into my soul. "No, I suspect they wouldn't have. You see, they were protective of us - even to this day, I suppose," I stared into the black coffee, watching the steam billow gently out, "back in those days, it was considered inappropriate for a young woman, such as myself, to go to war. No one could fathom the idea...I think in today's society, it would be even more difficult to digest this even happened."
The young man nodded in understanding as he leaned back into his chair. His eyes locked with mine and his voice held a sincerity I hadn't heard in some time as he admitted, "I am hoping to change all of that."
"By listening to the ramblings of an old woman?" I smiled at him as I brought my cup to my lips, letting him know I was teasing.
He nodded, with a small smirk and chuckle. "Yes, ma'am." When I averted my stare back to my black coffee thinking of what to say and where to begin, he asked me kindly, "Is there anything I can bring you? Anything to make you more comfortable?"
"No, thank you, dear." I set my cup down on the table before me, fidgeting with the handle.
He removed a small silver recorder from his inside breast pocket and pushed a couple of buttons which chimed loudly once, informing him it was recording. He set it down on the table between us. "Take as much time as you need. Start where you'd like and let me know when you're ready for a break."
I swallowed, exhaling deeply. This was it. I thought for a moment before replying quietly, "I suppose the best place to start any story is at the beginning..."
I took in a shaky breath, willing my nerves to calm, as I started, "I was one of five nurses chosen to be part of this great moment in our history. It was said that if this were to work, there would be more nurses introduced into this field. We were selected based according to our age, our physical endurance, and our willingness to learn the basics of medicine. The military placed us into five different areas of their military divisions. Regiment, Home Base, Seaborne, Armored, and Airborne. I was selected to be in the Airborne, more specifically, Easy Company."
