With Every Letter Read Online Free PDF Page B

foreign image. Appealing, but so strange.
    “But Philomela’s a lady.” Vera pressed a hand to her chest. “That would be beneath her.”
    Georgie’s hand settled back to her side, the invitation fluttered away, and Mellie ducked her chin. She’d never make friends. How could she when she didn’t know how? And how on earth could she learn? Mellie felt like she was learning to walk at the age of twenty-three.
    Mellie blinked hard and studied the plane. The Douglas C-47 was the military version of the DC-3 passenger plane used by civilian airlines. Painted a muted medium green, the plane had a cute snub nose and a large square cargo door. Between the cargo door and the tail, the U.S. Army Air Forces’ white star on a blue disc was painted at eye level.

    “Good afternoon, ladies.” Lieutenant Lambert strode up, followed by four enlisted men, and she beckoned to about three dozen nurses scattered nearby. “Today these gentlemen will instruct you in the proper use of the litter.”
    A tall blonde nurse raised her hand. “Won’t medics carry the patients?”
    “Ideally, yes.” Lieutenant Lambert motioned for the ladies to stand in a circle around the enlisted men. “This is experimental, as you know. No one’s performed medical air evacuation in an organized manner. Our plan is to gather patients at airfield holding units. We’ll fly in, and medics will load the patients under our guidance. However, this is war, and war doesn’t follow plans. If there aren’t any trained personnel on the ground, you’ll recruit and train. If you’re under fire or ditching a plane, you’ll carry patients yourselves.”
    “Oh my,” Georgie whispered to Rose.
    “You’re little but strong,” Rose whispered back. “You can do it.”
    Mellie studied Georgie’s pale face. Did she really lack confidence in her abilities or was she scared?
    Lieutenant Lambert pointed to one of the men, blond and strapping. “Sergeant Kowalski will take over from here.”
    “Ground litter!” Sergeant Kowalski called out.
    A private lowered a folded litter to the ground and unfastened the straps.
    “Open litter.”
    The private did so. A canvas litter with aluminum poles stood on stirrup-shaped feet.
    “Private Gibson.”
    One of the men lay on the litter, and the other men strapped him in position as the sergeant barked more orders. They assumed rigid positions at the foot and head of the litter.
    “Prepare to lift.”

    The men squatted and grasped the handles.
    “Lift. Forward march. Understand, ladies?”
    Mellie nodded. Simple enough, but she couldn’t imagine such a regimented process under fire.
    “Break into groups of three and practice. One as patient, two as litter carriers, and rotate.”
    Every one of Mellie’s muscles tightened. Why couldn’t they assign groups instead of letting the women form their own? All around her, women coalesced into trios, with a bit of negotiation when friends had to be separated, but no one was left out. Except her.
    She edged backward and twisted her hands together. If only she could turn invisible.
    Someone tapped her on the shoulder. “Trying to get out of work?”
    Mellie spun around and faced Capt. Frank Maxwell, the surgeon assigned to her flight of six nurses—tall, well built, and movie-star handsome. Half the girls swooned over him and bemoaned the fact that he was married and the father of two. “No, of course not. I was . . .”
    He studied her through narrowed green eyes. “Miss Burke, isn’t it? I’ve heard about you.”
    “Blake. Lieutenant Blake.” And what had he heard?
    His eyes narrowed more.
    Mellie winced. So he didn’t like being corrected by a woman. She’d worked with doctors like him before.
    “Well, Lieutenant, so you think you already know how to do everything and don’t need training like everyone else?”
    “That wasn’t . . . I just . . .” How could she admit she was too shy to barge in where she wasn’t wanted? “I don’t have a group.”
    Captain