 Words at war. I'm sorry for arms wives, but if you could see what I've seen, if you could see what they've done in this town, they'll cheat you and leave you holding a bag every time. They're rotten, just plain rotten. I have no use for any one of them. They're nothing but camp followers. The National Broadcasting Company, in cooperation with the Council on Books and Wartime, presents another one of the most widely discussed programs in America, Words at War, dramatizing the most representative books to come out of this great world conflict. Tonight's program is based on Camp Follower by Barbara Claw. Her story, as told in Camp Follower, is familiar to thousands of women who have shared the same experiences. But to the rest of us, it brings the realization that the much maligned army wife has been doing an important if unrecognized job of morale building. We present Camp Follower in a special radio dramatization by Priscilla Kent. There are many kinds of camp followers. There is the stray dog who comes from nowhere to make his home close to an abundant army mess hall. There's the merchant who moves his business into an army camp town and trades his goods for the crisp bills and shiny silver the government pays to its soldiers. And there is the woman who camp follows, neither for money nor for food. But because, for the time being, she feels herself practically a part of the army, the soldier's wife. The Jeffersonian, leading on track six for Pittsburgh, Columbus State. I had always dreaded the process of shoving, waiting and dodging my way through Washington, D.C.'s Union Station, but on April 1st, when I caught the Jeffersonian to leave Washington for good, I loved the whole familiar dull procedure. The train was full of soldiers carrying their small canvas bags, businessmen and women and flowery spring hats. I managed to find a seat next to a pretty but tired looking girl. Have a piece of chewing gum. Well, thank you very much. This stuff's hard to get. My husband buys it for me at his PX. Is your husband in the army, too? I'm on my way to join him now. Well, that's just what I'm doing. Isn't it exciting? Exciting? I guess it is, for the first time. So you're going to Camp Crowder? That's right. You see, Spencer, that's my husband, is in the signal car. Crowder's a hole. What's he doing out there? Why, he's in radio school. Well, that's okay. He'll get a good technical reading out of that. That's the best thing to get in this army. Do you like the army? Guys don't like the army. They're just in it. That's all right for what it is. At least we get all the meat we want. Tell me something. Do you think it's a good idea for me to go out and live near my husband? What else? A wonderful break for a guy. Gee, I wish I had a wife. The army'd be all right that way. I got into St. Louis just in time for me to board my train for Kansas City. Hundreds of us fit in front of the train gates, jockeying for position, waiting. It isn't only the men in the army who get used to waiting. The army wives get used to it, too. In time, I was to learn the art of waiting, of stretching out little tasks and insignificant thoughts. Oh, Joplin Hotel. No, we have no rooms. I'm very sorry, madam. I can do nothing for you. We're completely filled. My name is Mrs. Spencer Claw. Young lady, I don't care who you are. There isn't a vacant room in the entire hotel. I have my room already. I checked in this afternoon. Well, what's wrong with it? Well, nothing. I just wanted to ask you if anyone on the telephone are inquired for me. Who are you expecting? My husband. He's at Camp Crowder. He's supposed to meet me here this evening, but there are so many soldiers here. There'll be more before the evening's over. But do you think anything could have happened? My lady, the best thing to do is just stay in your room and wait for him. Hello, Joplin Hotel. No, we haven't any rooms. I went back to my room. I tried to read, but it was no use. I looked at Spencer's picture in my wallet. I hadn't seen him for six weeks, but it seemed like six years. I remembered what the girl on the train had told me. It's a shock when you first see your husband in strange clothes and talking so different. And the worst thing is that they even look different. I sat on the bed staring at the door, half ready to laugh at myself and half ready to weep. My hands were perspiring and I smoked cigarettes half through and ground them out. Finally, I got up to comb my hair for the ninth time. Come in. Hello, Bobby. Spencer. All right. That Monday morning, my life as a camp follower got underway. The bus from Joplin landed me in Neosha, and I began hunting for a room. And now this cabin here is one of my very nicest. We just remodeled it too. Care for that wet paint. It's really charming. And Venetian blinds, I just got them up. They make it pretty, don't they? They're mighty hard to get nowadays. But is this all the furniture there is? The bed, the chair, and the gas heater? That's right. And what do you expect? Well, could I see the closet? As a matter of fact, we haven't got a round to put in the closet in this cabin yet. It's cute, ain't it? Yes, it is. Uh, what do you charge? Well, I used to charge $16 a week for this one. But now with the Venetian blinds, I'll have to charge $17. $47 to $28, four times one. Well, that's $68 a month. Well, that's more than we paid for a whole apartment in Washington. Maybe it is, dearie, but this is much closer to Camp Crowder. I just couldn't afford it. As a last resort, I hunted up the traveler's aid office. What a town. Gosh, my feet are killing me. How's that place on Wood Street you went to look at? Same story. She didn't want kids. You'd think it was a sin for a soldier's wife to have a child. It is, honey. Oh, well, I don't know what I'm... The office was mobbed with girls. I lit a cigarette, sat down on a camp chair against the wall, and lingered after others had gone, hating to hit the pavements again. Traveler's aid office? Oh, yes, Ms. Upton. Yes. Yes, yes, certainly I will, Ms. Upton. Thanks so much for calling. Oh, Mrs. Claw. Yes? You might try this place. A vacancy? Yes. I don't know what it's like, but you can look at it. Let me know what happens, will you? The woman has refused to rent the room to the last five girls. I've sent over. How do you do? The traveler's aid sent me to see the room you want to rent. Come on in, dear. Excuse the way I look, won't you? I just got back from work. Where do you come from? New York. Oh, really? Well, what do you think of Neosha? Well, I really haven't seen much except the square and a few of the residential block. Well, you've seen it all. That's Neosha. That's the whole town. We ourselves aren't natives, of course. We come from St. Louis, but Mr. Upton's in the business down here. He owns one of them military stores over by the square. Oh, yes. I noticed them. I'm a sales lady in one of them. Oh, it's a terrible mess, this town. All these soldiers... Oh, about the room. Oh, how long do you want it for? Well, for as long as my husband is stationed at Crowder. What kind of a schedule has he got? Well, he'll be coming here every evening that he can, but he won't be able to sleep over except on Saturday night. Well, I'll show you the room. It isn't much, but the girls always seem to like it. I think it's wonderful. Did the travelers tell you what I charged? No, they didn't. Well, I charge $8 a week. I could get $13 for this room on account of it having a private entrance, but I wouldn't want to take it from you girls. Well, I'd like to rent it if it's all right. Yes, it's all right. I don't give kitchen privileges, you understand. Of course, coffee in the morning, that's all right, and if you want to keep milk or beer in the ice box, well, that's all right too, but no cooking. I just can't have it. Oh, I understand, Mrs. Upton. Would you like me to pay now? A few nights later, when I brought Spencer in to meet the Upton, they were friendly and made us feel very much at home. But after we retired to our rooms, Spencer asked... That girl who was sewing, where did she fit into the picture? Oh, that's Mabel. She's another army wife. She works for them. 9.30 at night, she works for them? She can't afford to pay $8 a week for a room. So Mrs. Upton lets her do all their cooking and cleaning, and charges her only $4 for a room. Something tells me I'm not going to care for Mrs. Upton. Oh, she's not so bad. I hope. But before many days had passed, I found myself echoing my husband's sentiments. Especially after... Bobby, I want to talk to you private. Why, certainly come in, Mrs. Upton. Look, one of the girls, Pat, is leaving today, and I won't be here when she goes. So Bobby, you just sort of will watch that she doesn't take anything, will you? Of course, I just couldn't believe she'd steal. I couldn't believe that of anyone, but you know you never can tell. So you just keep an eye on her, won't you, Bobby? This was the first time I became actively aware of Mrs. Upton's spying. And then Naval told me that she was spying on me, too. She calls up every morning from the store and asks me just casual like what you eat for breakfast. This morning she wanted to be sure you didn't touch your new strawberry jam. She thinks everybody's out to cheat her. On Easter Sunday, the Uptons went to visit relatives in another town. When I woke about noon, Spencer was still asleep, and I realized it was too late to get breakfast. From our window, I could see soldiers and their wives filing into a small grocery store across the street, and the temptation was too much. I got Mabel and the two of us visited that grocery store. A half hour later... Hey, Bobby, what goes on here? Why don't Mrs. Upton give you permission to cook? She didn't. Well, suppose she finds out. Don't worry, she won't. She'll never get a word out of me. Well, in that case, what are we waiting for? Bobby, she gave me the third degree this morning after searching the icebox and counting the oranges. But don't worry, I didn't spill any beans. Oh, this is all too ridiculous, Mabel. I'm gonna tell her the truth. I went down to the store where Mrs. Upton worked to talk to her, and incidentally to pay the rent for the next week. No, Bobby, you keep your money. Mrs. Upton was going to tell you about it tonight, but we've decided we need your room for ourselves. Mrs. Upton, if this has anything to do with Sunday, I'd like to tell you just what happened. I don't want to hear anything about it. It doesn't matter what happened. I'd just like to tell you that I've gotten a good picture of your character, of the kind of girl you really are, and I'm sure you'll be happier living somewhere else. Well, as it turned out, this blow was a blessing in disguise. I found another room with a Mrs. Blake, a thoroughly pleasant woman who, wonder of wonders, allowed me to use the kitchen. To be sure it was a little confusing trying to eat with two other couples, and Mrs. Blake and her son in one kitchen, on one stove, from one icebox. But we were determined to make a go of it. The first night in our new home... Oh, this is more like it. Light one for me, too, darling. I'll take this one. Thanks. I wish Mrs. Upton could have seen us in that kitchen tonight. I'll be a little happy. Just thanks, Ben. Eating a home-cooked dinner every night from now on. Maybe now you'll gain back some of those ten pounds you dropped. Don't worry about me. I'll thrive. Now that we're living like a properly married couple again. What's proper about being torn apart at ten o'clock every night? That's the one thing that really gets me down. Darling, can't anything be done about it? Well, I've asked for permission to live off the post. Heaven knows when or if they'll give it to me. Did you tell them how good it would be for your morale? No, I merely pointed out how much better I could sleep if I didn't have snores on both sides of it. Oh, fine. So that's all it means to you. That's all it means. Say, the Andrews seem to be a nice couple. And Jane and Bruce? I like them too. Jane's going job hunting with me tomorrow. She's had more experience at it than I have. She's been through this routine at two other camps. And Ben, where are you going? Ten o'clock. Already? Well, we've hardly had a chance to say anything. I know, honey. If I don't get back to camp PDQ, my sergeant will say plenty. Good night, baby. Good night, darling. See you tomorrow night, if I don't get detail. Oh, and, uh, good luck with your job hunt. Well, young ladies, I think we might be able to use you. How long are you planning to be in these parts? For as long as our husbands are stationed at Crowder. That's right. In that case, I'm afraid we can't offer you anything. But you just said... We can't take on anyone who'll leave without notice because their husband's being transferred elsewhere. But Jane, are you sure they have jobs with civilians right here at the camp? Of course. See, the information clerk is a civilian. Well, what do you want? Not a very civil civilian. Oh, where can we find the director of civilian employment? He's out today. What do you want to know? Well, we'd like to find out about getting jobs at the camp. Our husbands are stationed here, and we felt that... Our only openings are in the camp laundry. Well, what kind of jobs are they? Straighten laundry work, wash and clothes, fold and shirts, ironing. Nothing else? No, nothing else. Sorry, ladies, we're not interested in trantons. Any luck with the jobs today? None. Any luck with your seal? What, what? Permission to live off the post? No, no, not a word. Spence? Hmm? I hate to tell you this, darling, but it's almost 10 o'clock. Hmm? Oh, lord. Where are my shoes? I'll put them on for you. Give me your foot. All right, thanks. What are you going to do tomorrow, honey? Well, Jane says there's an employment service for soldiers' wives at the USO club. So we're going to try that. Yes, girls, there are jobs to be had in the ocean. Well, we're certainly glad to hear that. Of course, most of it's night work. That's when all the stores need sales help because of the soldier trade. Mrs. Potter, the evening is the only time when our husbands get in from camp. It's our only chance to see them. That's why we're out here. Well, I don't suppose you'll be interested in housework. I'm afraid not. How about volunteer work? Oh, yes, anything really useful. Well, I'm going to let you in on an important secret. We are going to start a Nasa Nurses Aid course. Well, I'd like to sign for that right away. So would I. The classes will be held in Joplin. I'll give you the invitation to the arrange to and from the hospital there. Of course, you'll have to undergo a very rigorous physical examination. But those nurses aid uniforms are so cute. I really think it's worth it, don't you? Well, now let's see. Here are two application blanks. Thank you. Thank you, Mrs. Potter. And now about your medical examinations. Do you have doctors here in town? Well, no. In that case, suppose you go and see Dr. Reed. I'll call him right up and make appointments for tomorrow. Gosh, Bobby, that examination gave me the creeps. Me too. I've had the same kind before, but that nasty little nurse, that bored doctor, they've made me feel unclean. Well, I suppose we can't expect them to treat us as nicely as our own doctors. Jane, what's the matter with your arm? It hurts. Dr. Reed poked that needle into it five times before he got any blood. I suppose he got a bad impression of me because I cried. Oh, don't be childish. Bobby, how soon do you think we'll hear from Mrs. Potter? Oh, any day. The course starts next week. Well, Mrs. Andrews is right here. Would you like to speak to her? Yes, I went with her. I sat nervously in the ante room waiting for her to come out of Mrs. Potter's office. When she did, her face was blank. Well, Jane, what's the story? There's something wrong with me. I can't take the course. You mean because you cried in the doctor's office? No. It's physical. Oh, Bobby. Jane. Janey, dear. Please. Dr. Reed's nurse was in there with Mrs. Potter. She says the blood test just came back today, and they showed it. Oh, Bobby, it's too horrible. They must be crazy. I told the nurse it was impossible, but she just smiled. Bobby, this will break Bruce's heart. That nurse is a darn fool. Jane, you've got to go to another doctor right away. I made an appointment for her with the best doctor in town. She came back just when Pat, the other army wife who lived at Mrs. Blake's, and I were getting dinner ready for our husband. Well, Jane, what did he say? He doesn't see any signs. He can't tell. You've got to wait for the test to be developed. Oh, they're mine, Pat. What are they all doing on my side of the kitchen table? I'd better start fixing Bruce's dinner, too. Hello, girls. All in the kitchen at the same time? What's happened to your shift system? Oh, I guess it's my fault, Mrs. Blake. I had an appointment. I'm later than usual. And I'm earlier than usual. It's a hot night, so take it easy. Aren't those beans of yours ever going to be cooked? Whose roast is this in the oven? Jane, you're squashing my tomatoes. Hey, something's boiling over. Oh, it might be my... Sorry, girls. But after what's happened tonight, I'm afraid I can't allow you to use the kitchen anymore. It's all my fault. I wish I were dead. Jane ran to her room, and I didn't see her for two days. Her husband came and went without speaking to anyone, and I began to be worried. Then one afternoon, Jane came to find me. Bobby, I've just been to see Dr. Raymond. He says everything's all right. Oh, I'm so glad, Jane. It was that silly little nurse in the first doctor's office. She got the slides mixed up. Dr. Raymond is so mad he can hardly control himself. Imagine, Bobby, I'm perfectly all right. I knew you were all along. You little idiot. And Dr. Raymond telephoned Mrs. Potter and explained everything. Bobby, let's go right down and see her. Sorry, Mrs. Andrews, but you are not eligible for the course. I told you that before. But, Mrs. Potter, those tests were wrong. There was some mistake. Dr. Raymond told you about it. Our medical board has already met and selected the candidates. But you don't want that decision to be based on incorrect information, do you? I'm afraid it's all settled, Mrs. Flaw. There's nothing more to say about it. But that's unfair. Here's a girl who wants to do something useful. A girl who has gone through sheer purgatory because of an inexcusable mistake. We are the ones who are running the course, not you, Mrs. Claw. But, Mrs. Potter... It's all right, Bobby. At least you will be taking the course. I'm afraid not. What? Mrs. Potter, you yourself told me I passed examination with flying colors. Unfortunately, we can find only one car to make the trip to and from Joplin every day. And since it holds only four people, we decide to accept Neosha girls instead of army wives. I'm sure you'll understand. Aren't you going to eat your meat, Bobby? I don't feel very hungry. Is it because the food's so bad or because of Mrs. Potter? I guess it's a combination of both. I'm sorry to be so low, dear. Well, maybe this will cheer you up. I got it. You got what? Permission to live off the post. Spent your fooling. Not about a thing like that. Oh, darling, how wonderful. Oh, that makes everything all right. Oh, I can hardly believe it. When does it begin? Tomorrow night. I'll be home bagging baggage, so you'd better make room. Okay, Bobby. I put all your things in the bottom drawer. Oh, thanks, Janie. Bobby, you're so lucky. Having your man home every night, all night. I sure wish Bill would get that break. Well, maybe he will pass. Say, what time is it, somebody? Almost five o'clock. Is that all? Oh, your watch must be slow. Do you think you like the new curtains I bought? I tried to get a bedspread to match, but this is the closest they had. I think I'll get a new blotter for the desk. It'll look much better this way, and then... Hello, Bobby. Spent your early. Oh, darling, I'm so glad. Where are your things? I didn't bring them. Why not? My permission was canceled, baby. We're shipping out tomorrow. You're shipping out? Mm-hmm, to California. Camp Bill. California? Tomorrow? Can I go with you? I'm afraid not, honey. We're going by troop train. Oh, darling. Oh, don't worry, Bobby. As soon as I'm settled out there and know the score, I'll send for you. You're becoming a real camp follower, aren't you? I shipped out early the next morning, and ten days later, I, too, was on my way to Camp Bill. Now that I was leaving the ocean, I felt neither bitterness nor joy. Only a surge of sympathy for the army swamped into town. The girl sitting next to me was young and friendly, and, oh, so easy. I offered her a cigarette. Thank you very much. They're hard to get. My husband buys them for me at his p.m. Oh, is your husband in the army, too? Mm-hmm. I'm on my way to join him now. That's what I'm doing. Isn't it exciting? Exciting? Exciting? I guess it is. The first time. Tonight on Words at War, we've brought you Camp Follower by Barbara Claw. A special radio treatment was by Priscilla Kent, and Marjorie Quail was heard as Barbara Claw. The music was arranged and played by William Meader, and the production was under the direction of Anton M. Leeder. Be sure to tune in again next week for 10 Escape from Tojo by Lieutenant Welburn Kelly. Another in this series of Words at War. Jack Costello speaking. This is the National Broadcasting Company.