THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, September 27, 1996 TAG: 9609250177
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON PAGE: 07 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: Over Easy
SOURCE: Jo-Ann Clegg
LENGTH: 81 lines
I really hadn't planned on staying for lunch when I went out on assignment last Wednesday, but Amelia Hitchings talked me into it.
``Now you've got to eat somewhere and it might just as well be with us,'' she told me when I called to tell her I'd be covering the luncheon of a group called the Virginia Belles.
A very persuasive lady, that Amelia Hitchings. And a very nice one, too. I suspect that she inherited both traits from her mother, the late Mrs. Elias (Ruby) Etheridge.
It was Mrs. Etheridge who founded the Virginia Belles back in 1942 when the Japanese were capturing island after island in the Pacific, German U-boats were attempting to torpedo any ship plying the Atlantic and soldiers and sailors were flooding Norfolk on their way to war.
The Belles were young ladies recruited from local churches and some of the city's most prominent families to serve just one function: dance with the young men who were so scared and so far from home.
``We were from the best families, that's true,'' Amelia Hitchings told me. ``But we weren't snobs. My mother had one young lady call who said she wanted to join the group but she only wanted to dance with officers. Mother thanked her for her interest, but never called her back.''
Membership in the Virginia Belles wasn't about mingling with young men of a certain social class. It was about providing a bit of fun for lonely boys who would soon be going through the most frightening experiences of their young lives. Belles were expected to dance with equal charm and grace regardless of whether their partners wore bell bottom trousers or epaulets of gold.
The Belles went to dances at the Amphibious Base, the Naval Operating Base, Fort Story, Fort Eustis and just about any other place that was in the business of preparing young men to face the horrors of war.
Knowing that they had provided a few hours of pleasure for the soldiers and sailors was payback enough for the young women.
``For a lot of the girls, the big attraction of the group was the chance to dance to some of the best bands of the time,'' Hitchings told me. Woody Herman came to town to entertain the troops back then, so did a band leader named Saxie Dowell who stunned the well-bred Belles by singing his latest composition.
``Who Slapped Annie on the Fanny with a Flounder?'' was shocking stuff to Southern girls raised by mothers and grandmothers who grew up during the days of Queen Victoria.
Hitchings and other members of the Belles told me this, and ever so much more, in the brief time I visited with them at the meeting of the group which calls itself Virginia Belles Reuniting.
I say brief. It was actually a couple of hours. But sitting next to Hitchings, the time flew as I listened to their memories of what many in the group feel was one of the finest periods in American history.
It was not, they would be quick to say, the war that was good. Rather it was the feeling of the time, a period when everyone pulled together to get a job done so that they could get on with the serious business of building a more perfect world.
Women in general, and the Belles in particular, had a very clear idea of what their place in that perfect world was. They were there, they say without apology, to support the men.
``We did what we could to make life easier for them during the war,'' Hitchings said, ``and when the war was over we took care of our families and did what we could for the community.
``You won't find any Women's Libbers in this group,'' she continued in words that contained no condemnation or anger, but rather were a simple statement of fact.
I'm not sure it's a statement with which I agree. Looking around the restaurant room where nearly 50 of the Belles had gathered, I saw a group of lively women, now in their 60s and 70s.
Still beautiful, still charming and always well-mannered they caught up on each other's lives and recalled with laughter the times when, under the watchful eyes of their chaperones, they danced many a night away in the arms of grateful young men who would soon board ships which would take them into harm's way.
Before the Belles left, each dropped a donation into a box earmarked for the Navy-Marine Corps Relief Society, a reminder of their commitment to the military. Caring for others - military or civilian, friend, family or stranger - is something they have done all their lives. It is something that, by choice, they continue to do. And if living the life that one chooses to live is not being liberated, then I'm not quite sure what is. by CNB