Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1942)

More Than I Ever Knew Continued from page 20 other before this war. I was going to get a divorce, sooner or later. What would be gained by putting it off? Nothing. And, I'm afraid, I also felt that in times like these everyone was entitled to what security he, or she, could grasp. Maybe Ray promised nothing else, but he did promise that. Then, a batch of mail was forwarded to me. Among the other things was a letter in an unfamiliar handwriting. The post mark was three weeks old! "My dear Mrs. Nichols," the letter read. "I wonder if I could see you soon? It's about your husband and it's important — very important. I'm staying at the above address." It was signed Nell Burnham. "Hah!" Ray said, reading over my shoulder. "The other woman waving her tentacles?" SOMEHOW, I was sure it wasn't that. Something told me I must see this woman, see her immediately. "I'm going back to New York," I said. "Be sensible, Janice," Ray said. "That letter's three weeks old. She's probably gone, now." "I've got to try," I said. Ray was furious. "But that means giving up your resident's status, here. It means postponing our marriage!" "I can't help it, Ray," I said. "She seems to think it's terribly important. I've got to find out what it is." This time, I didn't let Ray influence me, although he argued against my leaving all the while I was packing. My train was late when it finally got to New York, but I'd wired ahead, asking Nell Burnham to see me that evening. I sent Ray to a hotel with my baggage and took a taxi to Nell's address. At the last moment, I grew frightened. Suppose Ray had been right? Suppose she was the other woman? As soon as Nell opened the door, however, I knew such a thing was impossible. She smiled warmly, "I'm so glad you've come," she said. Her voice was surprisingly low and soothing. Everything about her had that quality, her calm, friendly, gray eyes, her sweet mouth, the quiet way she moved. The radio was going and she went across the room and turned it low. "You don't mind its playing very softly, do you?" she asked. "I don't want to miss the news broadcast." "I've been away," I said, feeling I should explain why I hadn't come to see her before. "I know," she said. "I called your house." She sat down by me and took my hand. "This isn't easy," she said. "Maybe I'd better just read you my husband's letter — he's an officer in the Navy. He's a friend of your husband's." She lifted a letter from the table and her voice choked up a 48 little, as she started to read. "Dearest! This will be short, darling, and I'm afraid most of it won't be about us. I thought I'd be up this week, but all leaves have been cancelled. We're not sure, yet, but I think we're shipping out tonight — I have no idea where. I know this is sudden, but keep your chin up, darling. Remember, I love you and nothing much can happen to me, when I know you're there pulling for me. "Which brings me to the other thing. Nell, I want you to do something, darling. There's a fellow here — Lt. James Nichols — we've been pretty close since he came down here. He's a swell guy — good flyer — or, he was until a couple of days ago. He's gone all to pieces, suddenly. I think he's had some trouble with his wife. Anyway, he was all right until he got a letter from New York. Right after that mail call, we were ordered out on manoeuvers and he scared the pants off us. I've tried to help him, but he won't talk. "Nell, go to see his wife. See if you can straighten it out. Whatever it is, it can't be too serious, because Jim sure loves that woman, if any man ever loved anyone. For Heaven's sake, • O»O»O«4O*O*OtOflO»O*O«O0O«OtO»O»O*O»OW*O4OWtO*OtO»OI &claa tre^Xo lo CARYL SMITH — who plays Pauly, Maudie's best friend, in Maudie's Diary, the CBS comedy program Thursday nights, and also the title role in Tillie the Toiler, also on CBS, Saturday nights. Caryl, who is sometimes known by the nicknames of Cherub or Smithfield, comes from Portland, Ore., where she studied art on a four-year scholarship. But she liked acting better than painting, and set out for New York determined to make a name for herself. She hasn't done badly, either, with two good parts in radio and several appearances on the Broadway stage. She isn't married, hates parsnips, loves all animals except spiders, and is the doting owner of three _ dogs — two dachschunds.Sam and Pam.and a Scotty known as Heyl Q«C»C«0»O»0«0*O«O»OBe«O«0»0frO*O«0*D«O»O*C»0»O»O*O«0t0fO«O*CtO«O»O»0»0*O» tell his wife to forget whatever it was and get in touch with him. Tell her to write him here at the Post — it'll be forwarded — eventually." Nell stopped. "The rest is very personal," she said. I covered my face with my hands. I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. All of it came so clear, so sharp. I had done a terrible thing. I'd made a horrible mistake, somewhere. Jimmy loved' me. I had thought he didn't and I'd driven him away. Worse, I'd robbed him of everything he held dear, just when he needed it the most. I saw this, now, but it was too late. Nell jumped up and ran to the radio. She turned it up. She must have been listening very closely, because I hadn't heard it, at all. A communique from the Navy Department was being read. Suddenly, my heart began pounding so TV/fR BRADLEY patted my shoul hard, I couldn't hear. Words came -■-" der. "You've been under a ter through hazily and it took awhile to rible strain," he said. "If you'd rather not go through with the broadcast, it will be all right." For a moment, I almost accepted his offer. Then, I changed my mind. I had something to do, something very important. "I'd like to go on with it," I said. "Good girl," Mr. Bradley smiled. "I've rewritten your speech. We're letting you make the announcement hear like that — without any preparation. Only after days of illness — after Nell had nursed me back to some semblance of health and taken me back to the house in Westchester — did I find the telegram which had been sent me by the Navy Department, that kind, yet formal notification that would have eased the blow a little. Nell stayed with me and took care of everything. If it hadn't been for her, I'd have gone mad, I think: Nell was wonderful in those next two weeks. She gave me courage, pulled me together. It was she who made me understand that I couldn't refuse Mr. Bradley's request that I appear on his radio program, "The People Speak." I was shocked by the idea. Jimmy had been awarded the Congressional medal for valor and I was to receive it at the program. I didn't deserve even to touch that medal! But Nell argued, and at last she made me see how important it was for me to show other women how to be brave in these times. I had understood, finally, and now here I was, waiting to go on the air, waiting to show women how to be courageous! There was a knock on the door. I started. Strange, how long it takes to live a thing and how little time to remember. I had lost all sense of the passage of time. I might have been sitting in that dressing room for years. Mr. Bradley opened the door and smiled at me. "I have wonderful news for you, Mrs. Nichols," he said. "Your husband's alive. He was picked up two weeks ago by a merchant ship." I hung on to my wits, somehow. "Are they sure? Why didn't they let us know?" "They didn't know who he was," Mr. Bradley said. "We've been in communication with the freighter by short wave. Your husband's plane went down in flames. They found him very badly burned — all his clothes gone — nothing to identify him. He was clinging to some sort of driftwood — might have been a piece of his plane — they couldn't tell, because it floated away when they pulled him out of the water. They reported finding an unidentifiable man, but no one suspected it could be Lt. Nichols. He was picked up so far from the place where your husband was last seen." "Oh, poor Jimmy," I cried. put them together so they made sense. "It is feared that Lt. James Nichols, Navy Pilot, has been killed in action in the Pacific war zone. He was last seen three days ago, after downing two enemy planes in a heroic battle. Fellow flyers say he was last seen chasing a third enemy plane." There was more, but that was all I heard. It was a horrible thing to RADIO AND TELEVISION MIRROR