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Women’s History Month!

March is Women’s History Month, and we decided that our blog a day will feature firsts or other accomplishments by the WAVES. Please let us know if there’s something you’d like to know more about, or would like to see featured this month.

We begin with Mildred McAfee. She’s a pretty special woman to the WAVES we’ve talked with on this project. She was the leader of the WAVES for most of World War II.

McAfee was the daughter of a pastor and the President of Wellesley College before being asked to lead the WAVES. She said at the time that the Navy brass told her:

The Navy is going to admit women into the regular positions in the Navy. There’s not going to be any separateness about this. You’re going to be really in the Navy. That sounded very good to me and I used it all the rest of the way through the war.

McAfee was the first Navy female line officer in 1942 and was appointed a Navy Captain in late 1943 – the only WAVE Captain at the time.

We salute Ms. Mac!

This photograph comes from the Naval Historical Center.

A Strange Sight

One of the first things Frances Wills Thorpe did as an officer was to visit a Navy ship docked in Brooklyn. There she became acutely aware of her status as something unusual, as she recalled in her memoirs:

I became aware of a brown face, staring, wide-eyed from the galley opening. I tried to appear casual as I smiled lightly in his direction. The face disappeared and another brown one took its place immediately, equally wide-eyed. Seconds later, it seemed, the soup was brought to the table. The steward who had seen us first, came to me. Nellie smiled at me, obviously trying to hold onto her dignity because she recognized that I was beginning to be embarrassed. I thought that any moment she would fall into giggle but both she and Anna watched and waited demurely until the steward crossed to their side, as this were the expected way to be served. Only after I passed the third serving plate did I realize how I had almost missed a reaction which I would soon become accustomed to see in various places, with different people. It was the first time that these stewards (the only job available for many years for Afro-Americans in the Navy) had seen a person of color in officer’s uniform. It may well have been the first time they had seen WAVES of any color since they had just returned from duty.

When asked, near the end of our training, to state a preferred location for assignment, I had written ‘East or West Coast.’ After I had completed my entire Navy duty no more than forty-five minutes from where I lived and had signed on, except for three days temporary duty in the distant ports of Philadelphia and Washington, I often wondered if my Navy experience might have been altogether different had I written ‘West Coast’ first.

Frances was assigned to the Hunter College boot camp for the duration of the war. This photograph comes from the National Archives.

“A Happy Smile”

Officer’s training was tough for Frances Wills Thorpe. Since she had started after the other women, she needed to work doubly hard to catch up. The same was true for Harriet Pickens. They would be part of the last officers’ training class at Smith College, graduating just before Christmas in December of 1944.

She recalls in her memoirs graduation day:

Navy photographers were everywhere. Harriet and I were asked to pose pushing down together to close a suitcase. Although the photograph itself was first-rate and has been shown many times in the years since that day it was entirely fictional. By the time that the photographer approached and described the shot he wanted, both Harriet and I had long since stowed away all our gear and were waiting with the same undisguised eagerness as all of our classmates for train time. It was not difficult to smile a happy smile.

This photograph comes from the National Archives.

Wills at Smith College

Frances Wills Thorpe arrived at Smith College in October of 1944. Classes had already begun for the group of officers. She and fellow African American trainee Harriet Pickens trailed the other recruits.

The first evening was disorienting, as Frances recalled in her memoirs:

We had hardly any time to wait in the brisk November weather before a young WAVES office appeared, greeted us and led us to a station wagon parked nearby. We were driven forthwith to the uniform supply depot — only weeks later would we learn that this operation was under the famous Filene’s Department store of Boston. We were measured for uniforms, raincoat and dress coat, but when we finally emerged from the ministrations of the fitters we were changed in appearance only by the brand new Navy blue hats which marked us unmistakably as Navy property. Collected anew by our Navy escort and ushered back into the van, we were driven to the mess hall which was within hiking distance of the dormitory and only about a fifteen minute ride from Filene’s. (These vital facts we learned within a few days.)

Dinner was already in progress when we were brought to the wide entrance of what appeared to be a ballroom fitted with dining tables. Our escort pointed out two vacant seats which seemed to be in the exact center of the room — about a mile away. At that moment all those women in uniform looked exactly alike and from another planet: two brown-skinned women, one a head taller and a little darker than the other, in city suits and Navy hats. Next day I realized that we were seated according to our room locations in the dormitory. We also marched approximately in this order when we went from living quarters to classes or meals. “Approximately” because we were expected, while in formation, to be more or less in size places. After that first strange afternoon and evening Harriet and I never found ourselves marching or walking side by side. She was several inches taller than I.

This photograph of Frances and Harriet dining comes from the National Archives.

Langston Hughes & Joining the WAVES

Frances Wills began working for the writer Langston Hughes after her graduation from Hunter College. While she was working for him, she began attending Pitt to get an M.A. in social work. She later began working in social work, placing children in adoptive homes.

It wasn’t until fall of 1944 that the Navy finally agreed to accept African American women in fully integrated units doing the same jobs as white women. The issue was a lack of vision on the part of the Navy: some assumed that since African American men mostly worked as cooks and janitors (i.e. non-fighting positions), African American women wouldn’t be needed to “free a man to fight.” It would take two long years of negotiations to convince the naysayers that African American women could replace white and “colored” men.

As Frances wrote in her memoirs:

In October 1944 when the Navy said it was ready for me and I said, ‘Take me,’ I was not consciously making a statement about race relations. It was true that in the adoption agency where I was employed I was one of only two non-white social workers. My African-American colleague and I were probably in the same numbers to total staff as we were in the population overall. I doubt that this ratio had been planned, but since the numbers of person of color who applied to adopt children were small, we experienced minimal pressures from work demands in contrast to the rest of the staff which was obliged to handle a large volume of applications.

This photograph of Willis swearing in come from the National Archives.

Frances Wills Thorpe

Frances was one of two African American female officers in the Navy during World War II. She grew up in Philadelphia, but eventually moved to Spanish Harlem in New York City with her mother.

In her memoirs, she recalled getting little or no guidance about college.

When I learned that without high Regents grades in both geometry and algebra, I would have no chance at all of beings considered for college, I was devastated. I do not recall feeling, at the time, that I had been overlooked by the school system. Later, when I realized that there were people called guidance counselors in all the schools and that there must have been one or two in George Washington (high school), especially since it was among the more highly rated schools, I was angry. Whoever had the job had not cared at all that I was there. It must have been true — what people in the African American community always said — that no effort was made to ‘guide’ us because it was assumed that we would go to trade school or get a job — any job — on leaving high school. It had never occurred to me that I would not go to college. I wanted to be a journalist and heard that the University of Pennsylvania had an excellent school of journalism.

She ended up taking remedial courses and qualified to attend Hunter College in Manhattan.

This photograph of Frances Wills being sworn into the Navy comes from the National Archives.

“Do For Yourself”

Even after her years with the Peace Corps, Jean Byrd Stewart still kept volunteering and giving. She shaded her stories. Wrote a book.

There was a to-do in Washington, DC, after the women had been in 50 years. I had to write of my involvement at the Navy. All of us that spoke at that particular affair, that was supposed to have been put together in a book form. Some of them sent it back typed up and some didn’t. I still have mine. You should see the paper. Even when I went to Africa, that was something. I saved that. I can add that to my book. All those things blend together and come to something decent.

It wasn’t until late 2006 that Jean finally decided to stop volunteering.

I’ve done for others. As someone said, “Do for yourself.” And that’s not being selfish because I’ve given a lot of years to other people.

This is a copy of a commendation Jean received from the state of New Jersey. It comes from the collection of Jean Byrd Stewart.

Peace Corps

In 1982, Jean Byrd Stewart volunteered yet again – this time with the Peace Corps. She was assigned to travel to the Philippines.

I went in as an agriculturist. Agriculturist, that’s what was needed. My father had a place and with eight children, 200 feet deep on both sides and you learned to plant and this and take care of it and keep the ground nourished and keep the weeds out. So I went in as an agriculturist. I have to work with the, around city hall, that was number one. Then work with the farmers, upgrading them, so that they could raise a good crop of rice and this and that and the other thing. Green grass and shrubbery to hold the dirt whenever it rained. That was all a part of it too.

They had a day care center and I had to help with the children. There was some that were malnourished. We had to give them a one bone meal to keep them alive and going. One lady was going to have a baby. She wanted me to deliver her baby because I had been in health. You were here, you were there and the other place. They had a day care center. I could hardly pass there, they were waving to me. I could hardly stop, because I had to go to the office and work. You were needed in so many places. The school needed someone to help raise money. Being from America, they knew I could touch and money would pop up. Money for tables, money for chairs, for the children to do their homework. The places they needed you and wanted you to work was endless.

This photograph comes from the collection of Jean Byrd Stewart.

“You’re Needed in the Government”

Jean Byrd Stewart found that her service to the United States didn’t end after World War II. When New Jersey began its urban renewal in the latter part of the 20th century, she was asked to represent the state in health matters. Then she volunteered with Title One, helping to improve opportunities for children at two economically disadvantaged Catholic schools. Next thing she knew, she was asked to volunteer with Service for America.

A lady who worked for the government said, “You’re needed in the government.” I was sent to, up to Hannibel, Missouri. It was interested working with senior citizens. Then there were some handicapped, disabled children there. And that was a learning experience. Being in the Navy, that’s an insignia that follows you through it seems.

When she returned home, her mother was sick, so Jean took care of her while attending college to help supplement her degree.

This photograph comes from the collection of Jean Byrd Stewart.

Post-War Romance

Jean Byrd began working after the war, returning to the job she had before entering into service. When her brother returned home from his stint in the Navy, he brought along a friend. Bill Stewart.

You just don’t up and get familiar with a person. You have to learn something about them. If they’re nice, or you can be congenial, or get along with them. So I’m minding my business, going to work. I hate to say it, but they served me a drink that I just thought was light soda or something or other, because I was going to work. I wasn’t going to be home and talk with them. I was going to work. And they said, “You can’t go to work because we put something in that, and you just have to take the day off and go on.” Well, I didn’t like that. Because every day counted, right? Yeah, that’s what they did to me. So I didn’t go to work that day. I got to learn something more about him.

After he had been over a couple of times, Bill suggested that he and Jean might want to think about getting married near his birthday in June. It was May.

I said to myself, “This is moving in a hurry.” Well I had a sister who was supposed to get married in September. As time when on, I don’t even know how long it was, but come to find out he appeared to be nice and I didn’t know anything that was against him (laughs). I said, “Well, we’ll talk to Lina and Johnny.” I said, “It would be rough on my mother to have a wedding for them and have a wedding for us at another time too. What if we get together and have a double wedding?” And so it ended up, that we had a double wedding and got married.

This photograph comes from the collection of Jean Byrd Stewart.