If you’ve been hanging around here lately, you’ll know our beloved sweet romance series, “Petticoats & Patriots,” is in full swing.
While I helped my sister filly, Shanna Hatfield, develop the series, she gets full credit, and it was her idea to name our heroines off real-life patriots. We decided to include a Patriot Page with every book and include a brief biography of the patriot we had chosen. We came up with a list of names and time periods from our country’s birth in 1776 all the way up to modern day and invited the fillies to choose.
As soon as I saw Jacqueline Cochran’s name on the list, I knew I had my patriot. Not only have I always loved the name, I was fascinated that she was a female pilot, something I’d never written before. Even better, her patriotism took root in the 1940s–which worked out perfectly because the six books before mine were set in the late 1700s and mid-1800s. We definitely needed to bump up the locket’s journey to the 20th century!
Let me tell you a bit about her and how she proved to be inspiration for my heroine, Jackie Sinclair.
In 1942, Nancy Harkness Love formed and commanded a group of experienced women pilots who ferried military planes. Jacqueline Cochran was appointed to lead their flight training, and in August, 1943, when World War II was raging, the two organizations merged into the Women Airforce Service Pilots, more commonly known as WASP. Cochran served as director.
She was certainly qualified, having earned a reputation as one of America’s most accomplished aviators and a pioneering woman in flight, regaled for her speed, skill, and courage in flying. She was the first woman to break the sound barrier and set numerous aviation records for altitude, distance, and speed.
During World War II, with the WASP organization under her belt, she was determined to prove that women could serve their country in the cockpit. She insisted on strict training, standards, and discipline, hoping their performance would prove women belonged in military aviation instead of being ranked as civilian employees.
More than 25,000 women applied to serve as WASP, but only about 1,830 were accepted for training, and of those, just 1,074 earned their wings. These female pilots flew a whopping 60 million miles during the war in almost every kind of military aircraft. They ferried planes, transported personnel, towed targets for live-fire training, and performed other domestic flying duties.
Some even trained male pilots to fly particular aircraft. Interestingly, one of the main purposes of the WASP program was to take over essential flying jobs so that 1,100 male pilots could be sent overseas for combat duty.
But even though these women couldn’t serve in the military, their work proved dangerous stateside. As I mentioned before, they towed targets for live-fire training, which meant male gunners fired live ammunition at targets behind their planes. Ferrying unfamiliar aircraft could also be risky, especially in bad weather or with mechanical problems.
Thirty-eight WASP gave their lives in service to their country. Because they were classified as civilians, those who died did not receive the same military honors or benefits at the time. Their families often had to pay to bring their daughter’s body home.
In 1944, Jacqueline supported a bill introduced in Congress, H.R. 4219, designed to give the WASP full military status, including benefits such as medical care, insurance, hospitalization, and burial rights. The bill failed in the House on June 21, 1944.
The WASP program was disbanded six months later, less than a year before World War II ended. Despite their skills and service, and all the lobbying Jacqueline did on their behalf, they were still denied veteran status and benefits. What a shame!
They finally received veteran recognition in 1977, more than three decades later. In 2009, they were awarded the Congressional Gold Medal.
Former WASPs or WASP-inspired pilots lived in a world that praised women for wartime service, then expected many of them to step aside afterward.
In my book, THE SKY BETWEEN US, #7 in the Petticoats & Patriots series, Jackie Sinclair refuses to give up flying, and she was so much fun to write. Especially when she meets Beckett Archer, an officer in the United States Army during the Korean War. Except she doesn’t really “meet” him until several years later, when he’s a cowboy in the sandhills of Nebraska, of all places, and since she’d all but presumed him dead in Korea, you can only imagine how her world turns upside down when she learns he is very much alive.
She’s lived with his name for three years. He’s never known hers. Until they meet.
Jackie Sinclair is good at what she does–flying airplanes during the Korean War. But when she makes a mistake that will haunt her forever, she’s determined to build a new life of peace and freedom in Nebraska. Except she comes face-to-face with Beckett J. Archer, the soldier she had failed so terribly, and her hopes for a new future threaten to fall apart.
Beck has returned to heal at the one place that means more to him than anything else–his father’s ranch. The memories of war have left their mark, but the brave and beautiful woman who lands in his life–literally–stirs up feelings he never expects, especially when an old family legacy threatens to drive them apart.
As trouble closes in from every side, Beck and Jackie are drawn together by danger, duty, and a growing love neither of them can deny.
Coming July 28th!
Had you heard of the WASP before, or is their story new to you?
Would you have had the courage to fly a plane in the 1930s and 1940s when female pilots were both admired and criticized?
When was a time you had to show real courage?
During World War I and continuing into the 1920s, the Great Plains enjoyed a wheat boom where the crop was plentiful and prices were high. Buoyed by this prosperity, farmers attained even more acres and plowed them under, a plan they couldn’t have foreseen would lead to the biggest man-made ecological disaster in America’s history.
suffocated, and children were sickened from breathing dust-filled air. People stuffed wet rags around windows and doors, yet the dirt still came in, coating dishes, beds, and even babies in their cribs. The film doesn’t shy away from the horrific emotional toll, either. Some who were so overwhelmed from the stress, poverty, and unrelenting hardship, took their own lives to end the despair. Including a seven-year-old boy.
In the early 1950s, the Georgia Department of Public Health wanted to create a documentary film about safe childbirth practices to educate midwives. The result was “All My Babies: A Midwife’s Own Story” (1953), directed by George C. Stoney. Mary Coley was chosen as the central figure – not actors – and the film was used for years to train midwives across the United States and internationally. It was the first time the general public was able to view a real birth on screen, and today the film is considered one of the most important public-health documentaries ever made.
Chili and Cinnamon Rolls are another phenomenon around here, one I hadn’t heard of myself until a number of years ago. Since then, I’m learning how hugely popular the unusual combination is, especially in school cafeterias, as a fundraiser feature, in restaurants, and even at Nebraska Husker football tailgates.
likely not until the advent of folks raving online decades later that spurred the popularity of such an unusual combination. That and word of mouth from popular local restaurants.
I recently watched the 3-part docuseries, “Elizabeth Taylor: Rebel Superstar” on Fox Nation and loved it. Produced by Kim Kardashian (who surprised me with the depth of research and her skill in presenting so much information on the superstar, some of it never seen before), the series held me riveted each night.
