Beverly's Diary

[Beverly Coburn]

August 20, 1939

World War I: The war to end all wars...

Of course, we all forgot to read the fine print. You know, the part where it said "...for the next twenty years or so". The truth is, we can't realize that wars don't end wars... they just make grudges. Now, as we enter the '40s, my husband and my friends alike are off to yet another monumental war. There'll be monuments, alright...

I had grand expectations for this new decade. A new beginning... All this is certainly new but it was not the beginning I was expecting. My friends are going off to work now, taking the jobs of their boyfriends or brothers... or even perfect strangers. They want me to come and get trained with them but I know that what I want to do doesn't take place in a factory.

I'm going to go talk to the recruiter tomorrow... the one who came and talked to my David... I want to see if I can help the soldiers. I know I'm not a nurse or a doctor but there has to be something I can do.

When I see them walking down the street in their uniforms looking scared as ever... every one of them is David and I would do anything for them. I like to think that there'll be someone out there who will help him if he ever needs it like I would help these men.

For now, I can only pray hard and hope God is listening...

[Beverly Coburn]

September 1st, 1939

I see him everywhere although I know he's still not here. Every injured soldier returning home, every couple who still has a reason to smile. Everywhere. Sometimes I read to soldiers too bandaged to do much for themselves and, I hope this isn’t terrible of me, hope he becomes one of them so he might come home sooner. Am I dreadfully pathetic because I can’t seem to go on without him?

Yesterday I spoke with a man from the New York Times. Apparently he liked what I had been reading and wanted to know the author… it just so happened to be me. I really never saw a future in journalism but it could eventually put me closer to the fronts and maybe calm my mind a bit… that would be nice.

New York… that sounds nice. A big change, I’m sure, but nice all the same. I’ve never really been to such a big city before and I’m a bit excited. I think mother might be afraid that I’ll get into trouble if I move to the city but she’s such an old fashioned woman. The forties are upon us now and women are shouting “revolution!” She just can’t really see it. We’re well past just working as seamstresses and telephone operators.

So now I wonder… do I take the job or go on like I am here? Just waiting for David’s response… there I go again, waiting for David. My more radical of friends would probably tell me I'd be insane to turn it down... maybe they're right. Not many women get any ind of recognition as writers...