June 7, 1942
I have joined the WAAC, despite argument from every aunt, grandmother, great-aunt and casual adult female relation I have (and the ten percent of the male relations brave enough to voice an opinion on our family, including my father, my uncle Thomas, and the strange Uncle West, who should say nothing, as he is also enlisting).
I have joined for several reasons, not the least nor greatest of which is to remove myself for a time from the authority of said aunts, grandmothers, and other such relations. The more important reasons, however, are patriotic and, as always, familial: I cannot stay home while nephews, brothers, and cousins are enlisting, and I have no children, no husband, and, if the family has anything to say about it, no prospects of either. So I will help serve our country, and I hope perhaps in doing so that I will be able to provide some auxiliary help to our men in uniform, as they say.
The family is angry, of course, because they have rested all of their hopes on me. Ardelia is already married. Suzanne is already on her second child. And while Beatrix is not yet married, nobody believes she can spark enough to light a candle, much less carry the family.
If I am to be aunt, as it seems I will be, I will make certain the family does not repeat that mistake. There are so many female children. They should all know if they can carry the weight, long before it comes to the point where they are running away to join the army…