“We don’t have to do anything more than exist to get into trouble around here,” Lee said bitterly.

“Open it,” Martha said.

So Jess did, Martha, Iris and Lee all watching her. She read the major’s words. When she’d finished, she rested her elbows on the table, her head in her hands, and began to sob.

“What is it?” Martha’s voice sounded desperate and at last Lee and Iris began to read their own letters.

Wordlessly, Jess passed hers to Martha.

She read it through without speaking, then Jess saw her eyes return to the beginning and read it over again.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Marty said slowly. “We are going to get drunk, very drunk. But on champagne. No more whiskey.”

At last Jess laughed, and Iris and Lee cheered. For the letter had given Jessica May, Lee Carson and Iris Carpenter permission to access all areas. They were no longer only allowed to stay with the nurses. They were allocated jeeps. They were allowed to attend press briefings. To stay at press camps outside Paris. To be told about the day’s hot spots and military objectives. To send copy to their newspapers or magazines as soon as the censor had passed it; they no longer had to wait until all the men had filed theirs. They even got a cigarette ration.

So long as they found a unit to attach themselves to—which would mean, Jess thought, her joy evaporating a little, that she had to think of a way to get Dan to forgive her outburst—Europe was as much theirs as it was the men’s.

Fourteen

It was late morning when Jess awoke with a groan. Her headache confirmed that she’d definitely drunk more than she should have.

“That was a night and a half,” Martha muttered.

“It sure was.” Jess blinked and tried to focus. “Will you come with me when I go out to the front? Be my jeep partner. It might be easier for you to sneak around out there; Stone won’t let you have a room of your own here without accreditation. And you can get away from Hemingway.”

When Martha had visited her husband at the Ritz, she’d discovered him in the bedroom of Time correspondent Mary Welsh. The outcome had been one more blow to Marty’s heart, but also, at last, an agreement to dissolve their marriage.

“That,” Martha sighed, “is just what I need. Are you joining Dan’s division?”

Jess stood up and walked over to the window. “I don’t know whether he’ll have me,” she said at last. She explained what had happened at the camp dinner. “He’s in charge of hundreds of men, he’s meant to set an example, and I, his dinner guest, shout about sex in front of all the men he’s supposed to be leading. Warren deserved it but I shouldn’t have handled it like that.”

“Only one way to find out,” Martha said practically. “Besides, with all the COs you and I have met over the past year or so, we’ll find someone to take us on.”