LeadHERship Lessons
From My Mom And
The Women Airforce
Service Pilots
Powerful lessons almost
forgotten. They served too!
By Eileen McDargh, The Resiliency Group
A few caveats: the women had to already have a pilot’s
license. Not the male cadets. They would have to pay
for their way onto the airbase in Sweetwater, TX. Not
the male cadets. But like the male cadets, they would
have to learn to fly the Army way.
Many washed out. But 1,076 earned tiny silver wings
like their male counterparts. And before the war was
over, these women collectively flew over 60 million
miles of wartime duty, flying every plane in the U.S.
arsenal including the B-29 which won the war in the
Pacific. It was not without hazard. Thirty-eight of
them died in the course of duty but because they were
not-yet- considered official “military” there were no
benefits and in at least one case, the women collected
money to send the body home to the parents.
Congress refused to honor Col. Arnold’s promise to
enroll these women into the military. Male journalists
were furious that women would take the place of men.
Not only did women have no place in the cockpit of
planes but it would be 30 years LATER before the Air
Force finally agreed women could fly military planes.
The year was 1942 and the war had never looked
bleaker. Every able-bodied pilot was needed to
fly combat missions in the European and Pacific
theaters. But if the male pilots left, who would do the
domestic military flying? Who would ferry aircraft
from coast to coast? Who would tow targets for
gunnery practice with live ammunition? Who would
test the planes coming off the assembly line?
Into that void stepped aviator Jacqueline Cochran with
an idea for Colonel Hap Arnold. Women could take
the place of men! After all, Nancy Harkness Love had
already created a small ferrying squadron of women
flying warplanes to Britain.
With the agreement that the women would ultimately
be rolled into the military, the call went out for women
to enlist in the Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASP
WWII).
Thousands of women applied including a skinny
podiatrist from York, PA. I know the story. That
podiatrist was my mom, Mary Reineberg.
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