They were the daughters of suffragists, the mothers of feminists, 100,000 soldiers, 100,000 women.
This is the story of one of them.
Although initially critical of the idea of women in the military,
when faced with the growing shortage of manpower in Germany and Japan during the early part of World War II,
the views of the United States Congress changed.
In May of 1942, Congress approved a bill establishing the Women's Army Auxiliary Corps, or WACC,
women flocked from all over the country to sign up.
For some, it was a chance to support their country.
For others, it was a chance to break down the confines of society and prove their worth.
Three of them decided to join the WACC,
and the fourth one said she believed she'd joined the Navy because she looked better in blue.
For whatever reason, one of these recruits was a young woman from Balda, Arkansas, Ruth Blanton.
Born on August 13, 1911, Ruth was destined to become a leader of a generation.
The feelings that had first delayed the creation of the WACC did not vanish with Congress passing the bill.
In her memoir, Ruth wrote,
My mother told me later that some of her friends felt she should be embarrassed that her daughter was serving in the Army.
Even some of the male soldiers resented the WACC.
The soldiers on the line, I wouldn't want them there because we have my generation as a built-in feeling of protection of the women.
In September 1942, Ruth received orders to report to Fort Des Moines, Iowa for basic training.
Upon arrival at Fort Des Moines, along with young women from all over the northeastern part of the U.S.,
we found new two-story barracks, a mess hall, and a day room, all comfortably furnished in Army fashion,
and still smelling a fresh paint waiting for the WACC.
Shortly after Ruth's arrival, the long-awaited WACC uniforms arrived.
To the dismay of the women who had hoped to display a little femininity, even in uniform,
were the cotton hose, the olive drab knit drawers that reached below the knees,
the sleazy rayon slips, and the brown oxfords with two-inch heels.
Ruth soon learned that life in the Army was very different from life at home.
Basic training required much adjustment, learning to live with fifty women in an open barracks,
with half beds placed with only a walkway between, taking turns at a row of washbasins and showers enclosed by curtains.
Two close-order drill periods a day, an exercise period, and classes on everything from personal hygiene to military law was routine.
At the end of basic training, Ruth's company was broken up.
Some women went to train as mechanics, cooks, or accountants.
Ruth was assigned to Army Administration School.
She was moved into the city of Des Moines and spent most of her time in classes.
The WACC was not technically part of the U.S. Army.
Officially, Ruth and her fellow sisters-in-arms were considered civilians, working with the Army, not in the Army.
This changed in 1943 after sixty thousand women volunteered.
In July of 1943, a congressional bill renamed the Women's Army Auxiliary Corps, the Women's Army Corps, keeping the same acronym,
and the women were given official military status with the same privileges as their male counterparts.
The women were given a chance to return to civilian life before being officially sworn in.
Most of the women in our company chose to remain.
The idea of quitting before the job was done was unthinkable.
Some had found it difficult to adjust to regimentation or had been assigned to jobs which they felt were too menial and so took discharges and left.
Those remaining were given the honor of a parade and again took the oath to defend our country, this time for the duration of the war.
Ruth was offered a position to attend officer training, but declined, hoping for an opportunity to go overseas.
She got her wish in late January of 1944.
She was to be one of the approximately eighty-three hundred wax that served overseas during World War II.
After a brief period at Fort Sherrod in Illinois, Ruth was sent to Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia for more intensive training.
On March 20th, 1944, Ruth began her journey to the New York Harbor where she and her comrades were to take the ship, the Queen Mary,
to an unknown destination, presumably Britain.
I remember standing in a long line of women in uniform, wax nurses, waiting my turn to walk up the gang plank,
and how heavy the tightly packed duffel bag pulled on my right shoulder.
The hustle and bustle of loading that great ocean liner, now a troop ship, was a scene I shall never forget.
Five days after setting sail, the Queen Mary docked in Scotland.
From there, the wax were transported to London by train.
They were given a strict lecture on the consequences of loose talk and the importance of secrecy.
No cameras or diaries were allowed, and their letters home would be censored.
Ruth was assigned to the stenographic pool of the G2 section of the Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force,
Schaife, where messages from the French underground were translated, reports were transcribed,
and personal files of German officers were kept.
Living in London also meant the frequent need to find shelter from German bombers.
It was during one of these air raids that Ruth met General Dwight D. Eisenhower.
When Paris was secured, she and a few other wax moved with General Eisenhower to Versailles.
Ruth continued on with him in the spring when he moved to Reims.
From the wax living quarters, they could see into his front office and observe conferences.
Ruth was there, Monday, May 7, 1945, when Germany surrendered.
About five o'clock p.m., a staff car pulled up to the curb, and two high-ranking German officers climbed out.
They were General Gustav Jould and his aide. All the headquarters staff lined up to watch,
as Jould strode arrogantly from the car with his face like stone.
He saluted, but no highl Hitler was heard.
The telegram dictated by General Eisenhower that night simply read,
the mission of this Allied force was fulfilled at 0241 local time, May 7, 1945.
Within a few days of this event, Ruth's section was airlifted to Frankfurt, Germany.
Ruth took notes as several of the German high command, now prisoners of war, were questioned.
Soon, Ruth was to hear more good news as President Truman issued the orders to drop the atomic bombs in Japan.
The news of the Japanese surrender had reached headquarters and Bedlam broke loose.
The gloom had turned to ecstasy.
I remember being carried by happy soldiers for half a block before my feet reached the ground.
When Berlin was divided into four sectors, Ruth was included in the group that was to organize the military government there.
She was transferred from Schaeff into the office of military government to the United States.
Here, she also parted ways with General Eisenhower.
Berlin was still in chaos, being divided into sectors.
We were restricted to the American sector for the first few weeks,
but later allowed to ride the streetcars into the French and English sectors.
The Russians found on their sector being checked out.
They had guards placed at the streets leading in.
Ruth received orders to return home on the Queen Mary.
From New York, she traveled back to Fort Des Moines, Iowa,
where she was given an honorable discharge on October 21, 1945.
The southbound train from the separation center at Fort Des Moines seemed to travel so slowly.
At several stations along the way, we said more goodbyes.
I left the train at Baldknob.
Ruth and her fellow wax led the way for women both in the military and the workplace.
They were the first women to serve their country in more than just a nursing capacity,
and the skills and habits taught to them by the army made them valuable assets to the workforce.
Thanks to their example, there were 200,000 women on active duty as of 2007,
and women are gaining equality in the workplace.
With their strength, determination, and valor,
they proved to the world that women could fight for what they believed in,
as best as surely as any man.
Thanks for the memory of early morning stars and friendly gold bars,
of rebellion, puke calls, and changing of the guard.
Oh, thank you so much for thanks for the memory of raiding on the green
and by generals we were seen of column left, eyes right, forward, large, the guide is right.
Oh, thank you so much.
That is the time we remember, the fun and the work we have done.
On the day we arrived in September, till peace has come, the war is won.
Oh, thanks for the memory of living on the post with Uncle Sam's host
and officers who understood the things we needed most.
Oh, thank you so much.
