Marguerite Ann Moore left Fort Stockton after graduation from Our Lady of Immeasurable Concern. It wasn’t personal, she just felt like she’d seen all there was to see in town, and that there wasn’t all that much to leave behind. Her parents had raised her to be a free thinker and let her go. On one hand they hoped she’d get the wanderlust out of her system and find her way back home. On the other hand, they said they wouldn’t be surprised if they only ever saw her again on holidays and at weddings and funerals.

She went by ‘Ann’.  Said it was just simpler.  She went to college, then nursing school.  At 24, educated, and looking for the next challenge, she enlisted in the military to see the world.  When she was sent to Pearl Harbor in January of 1941, she felt like she was getting a two year vacation at the taxpayer’s expense.  The beauty of the island was certainly like nothing she’d ever encountered in Fort Stockton.  The ratio of young servicemen to servicewomen was such that she instantly had several admirers, yet only one of them ever caught her eye.

Ann was captivated by a handsome fighter pilot.  Diz Anderson had grown up in Los Angeles and was different from any of the young men she’d dated in Fort Stockton, or anywhere else in Texas for that matter.  Tan, confident, and able to make Ann laugh at the drop of a hat, he was able to get through the tough exterior and quickly discover that Ann wasn’t nearly as simple as the middle name she went by.  She quickly realized that when he wasn’t around all the other braggadocious fighter pilots that competed in a testosterone filled combat for her attention that he was well read, gentlemanly, and laser focused.

The two were dating steadily by summer, exclusively by early fall.

He called her Saturday morning in December and told her not to make plans for the evening; he had a surprise.  Diz was full of surprises.  If he’d called every time he was about to unleash one, Ann would have been on the phone every morning.  As such, she thought this one might be out of the ordinary.  It was.

Picking her up at the nurses’ barracks, Diz walked her out to the first part of his surprise, a brand new black 1942 Ford Super Deluxe V8 Coupe. “How in the world did you get this?” she squealed as he opened the door for her and she slid into the black and tan interior.

“Connections, ma’am,” he laughed. “I keep telling you, I’ve got connections. Someday maybe you’ll believe me. She admired the black and ivory dash, almost as good looking as Diz, himself. Diz cranked the 221 cubic inch flathead V8 and dropped it into first gear while Ann turned on the radio to hear Arti Shaw singing Stardust. And, indeed, Ann felt like she’d been sprinkled with Stardust. She slid over as close to Diz as she could so she could breathe in the scent of his Aqua Velva before he lit a cigarette and it was dissipated by the wafts of his Chesterfield.

As they made their way to the Officer’s Club, The Ink Spots began singing I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire. By the time Diz was pulling the shiny black coupe into a spot under a palm tree, away from the front door to the club, Harry James was crowing You Made Me Love You. As Diz turned and scooped her up into his arms, she felt every one of the words Harry was singing. That kiss turned into three and before they could go in, Ann had to reapply her bright red Bèsame lipstick and smooth out the wrinkles in her crisp, cream colored linen dress.

Over dinner and the drinks that followed, Diz looked like a Cheshire cat.  Ann assumed it was the excitement of the new Ford, or perhaps his hope to continue what they’d started under the palm tree when they parked at the club.  The Manhattans they were drinking in between spins around the dance floor did nothing to douse those flames.  He finally whispered in her ear, “What do you say we take the new Ford for a drive?  Maybe find a quiet spot on the beach.”

Ann didn’t have to be asked twice.

Window rolled down, Artie Shaw on the radio singing Dancing in the Dark, the breezes coming in off the ocean and the sound of the waves hitting the beach provided just the backdrop Diz had planned.  As soon as Tommy Dorsey started singing Yes Indeed, Diz reached over and popped the glove compartment open and pulled out a little velvet box from inside.  As he handed it to Ann, the expression on her face was almost worth the price he’d pain for the diamond ring inside.  Before Tommy Dorsey finished the song, Ann had said, “Yes, indeed.” herself.

They talked of telling friends, setting a date, waiting until they were actually married before consummating their engagement.  The combination of Aqua Velva, new car smell, the Manhattans they’d had at the club and the Pacific paradise just outside the coupe combined to make the ‘waiting’ part of the discussion obsolete before the end of the evening.  In a moment they’d each remember the rest of their lives, they fell asleep in each other’s arms in the glow of the moon and the moment.

Ann had only been asleep back in her bed at the barracks for a few short hours when she was awoken by the sound of what she thought must have been a boiler blowing up.  Looking out the window of the small room, she saw smoke billowing out of the USS Arizona.  Minutes later, the chief nurse burst through the door to her room.  “Throw on clothes as soon as you can.  Report to the quarter deck for duty!  We’re being attacked by the Japanese!”

Ann thought it was a joke at first, still half asleep.  It didn’t take any time to realize it was not a joke.  Or a drill.  Or anything but a nightmare taking place outside.

Making her way to the hospital close by, she saw the steady stream of wounded being brought to the facility.  Most were covered in burns and died shortly after being brought in.  She worked as hard as she could, using everything she’d learned to save as many as possible, but the wounds of many were beyond anything that could be done.  Many could not even be recognized as the doctors and nurses worked through the day and night, numb from what they were witnessing.

When Diz was brought in on a stretcher, she recognized him immediately.  There were no burns.  Only wounds sustained from shrapnel and machine gun fire as he’d attempted to run to his plane and take off to do what he could against the enemy in the skies above.  He made it just long enough to look at Ann one last time.  Never said a word.  Probably wasn’t able to.  Ann didn’t have the opportunity to grieve at the time due to the long line of others behind him that still had a chance.  But grieve she did.

She went by Marguerite after that.  She’d seen that life wasn’t meant to be simple.  She wore the engagement ring the rest of her life, though she never married.  She went into the Defense Department after her stint in World War II.  Lived to be nearly 100.  Always drove Fords, a new one every few years.  Always black over tan, till she couldn’t drive any more.