| Author: | JIL CARLSON | ISBN: | 9781462068913 |
| Publisher: | iUniverse | Publication: | January 13, 2012 |
| Imprint: | iUniverse | Language: | English |
| Author: | JIL CARLSON |
| ISBN: | 9781462068913 |
| Publisher: | iUniverse |
| Publication: | January 13, 2012 |
| Imprint: | iUniverse |
| Language: | English |
As far as I was concerned, World War II was a snap despite blackouts, rationing, and no nylonsjust tan leg makeupGuaranteed not to come off ...the hem of your dress, the chair you sat on, or your dates trouser legs when dancing. In a burst of patriotism, I joined the WAVESthe Navys version of the WAACs (only with cuter uniforms), and met some great new friends including Candy, a movie starlet, and Howard Hughes who I thought was a radio repairman (I didnt catch his last name.)
The trip from Los Angeles to Hunter College in New York was a revelation; troop trains do not have dining carsyou march to various mess halls from wherever the train halts. I also discovered that the subway does not run from Chicago to NYC.!
Candy made boot camp a pleasure. We got to read her fan mail, and her familys chauffeur delivered weekly goodies from Schrafts and Bergdorf Goodmans (her three roommates were the best dressedlingerie-wiserecruits in the Navyand the only ones to gain weight inspite of all that marching.) . She also gave me the opportunity of turning down her invitation to have lunch at the Stork club with little Gloria Vanderbilt, and see Carmen Jones, a big Broadway hit. I chose instead to lead a gaggle of misguided recuits in an almost futile attempt to find the Empire State building.
Finally, the Navy, overlooking my southern accent and a tendency to address pilots as honey (Take a wave- off, honey), gave me one of their coveted billets as a Control Tower Operator and sent me to Atlanta, Georgia, for further training, There, I learned to drive a jeep, fly a plane (courtesy of the Link trainer) and to be careful where I sat on public streetcars Jim Crow was alive and well!.
Assigned to a small control tower in Corpus Christi, Texas, I met a tall, lanky radio repairman who laughed at almost anything I said, and was my good buddy during some dramatic changes in my life. His visits ended when I suddenly marred the Best pilot on the base. It was several years before I discovered that my buddy had been the elusive Howard Hughes.
During the 80s I wrote a weekly column for Roll Call, the Washington, DC newspaper. (Casandras Corner by Jil Carlson), and loved being with Fords Theatre promoting shows, during the 70s.The 60s were spent doing my own TV show.
Skirts Of Navy Blue is pure escapist reading for anyone who has only seen The War through John Waynes eyes.
As far as I was concerned, World War II was a snap despite blackouts, rationing, and no nylonsjust tan leg makeupGuaranteed not to come off ...the hem of your dress, the chair you sat on, or your dates trouser legs when dancing. In a burst of patriotism, I joined the WAVESthe Navys version of the WAACs (only with cuter uniforms), and met some great new friends including Candy, a movie starlet, and Howard Hughes who I thought was a radio repairman (I didnt catch his last name.)
The trip from Los Angeles to Hunter College in New York was a revelation; troop trains do not have dining carsyou march to various mess halls from wherever the train halts. I also discovered that the subway does not run from Chicago to NYC.!
Candy made boot camp a pleasure. We got to read her fan mail, and her familys chauffeur delivered weekly goodies from Schrafts and Bergdorf Goodmans (her three roommates were the best dressedlingerie-wiserecruits in the Navyand the only ones to gain weight inspite of all that marching.) . She also gave me the opportunity of turning down her invitation to have lunch at the Stork club with little Gloria Vanderbilt, and see Carmen Jones, a big Broadway hit. I chose instead to lead a gaggle of misguided recuits in an almost futile attempt to find the Empire State building.
Finally, the Navy, overlooking my southern accent and a tendency to address pilots as honey (Take a wave- off, honey), gave me one of their coveted billets as a Control Tower Operator and sent me to Atlanta, Georgia, for further training, There, I learned to drive a jeep, fly a plane (courtesy of the Link trainer) and to be careful where I sat on public streetcars Jim Crow was alive and well!.
Assigned to a small control tower in Corpus Christi, Texas, I met a tall, lanky radio repairman who laughed at almost anything I said, and was my good buddy during some dramatic changes in my life. His visits ended when I suddenly marred the Best pilot on the base. It was several years before I discovered that my buddy had been the elusive Howard Hughes.
During the 80s I wrote a weekly column for Roll Call, the Washington, DC newspaper. (Casandras Corner by Jil Carlson), and loved being with Fords Theatre promoting shows, during the 70s.The 60s were spent doing my own TV show.
Skirts Of Navy Blue is pure escapist reading for anyone who has only seen The War through John Waynes eyes.
