I've been watching a lot of WWII stuff lately and, not going to lie, I'm in love with the Pacific. I've noticed there seems to be, not a lot, but some slash in the the Pacific section and I was just hoping to squeeze in with a hetero pairing... Anyway, I had a pretty kickass dream and I'm just embellishing upon it. Pure fiction. I know a woman would never be allowed in combat back then. But hey, my story, my rules :] I really hope you guys like it. Let me know in the reviews. Please?

Chapter one

July fourth, Nineteen-hundred and forty.

I'll always remember that cold, rainy day when the Senator came to our home. The date was the fourth of July, our country's 164th birthday and my twentieth. I remembered watching the sleek silver Cadillac pull into our long, sloping driveway. The driver parked under the giant Live Oak tree that was close enough to the driveway. He got out of the car and escorted the politician to out front porch under a shiny black umbrella. I watched from my window sill seat which overlooked the two acres of front yard and driveway.

After our housekeeper, Mimi, allowed him in, I returned to my paper. The professor had assigned it on his favorite book, Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. I thought it was a terribly dreadful book, long and gloomy. But he believed it to be one of the best pieces of literature ever written. There was a soft knock on my door, to which I allowed entry. It was my father, a glum look on his face. My father, a full blooded dark skinned Cajun business man, was pale. The threat of tears brimmed his eyes.

"Princess, come here will you?" He spoke, his usually strong, slightly French accented voice was barely louder than a whisper. Setting my notebook and pencil down on the window sill, I strode to where he stood. I wondered, what was going on to make my father, strong and wise, to be so close to the point of breaking.

"Is everything all right, Daddy?" I asked as he led me to his study. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Don't worry about me," He answered stiffly. "Surely you remember Senator Lewis?"

By this time we were in his study. Staring up at my father's ceiling heigh bookcases was a tall, blonde haired, white man. Of course, I knew Senator John Lewis. He had always been a bit too fond of me, or so I thought. I nodded as the Senator turned, a professional smile on his face.

"Ah, Evangeline Marie," He held his hand out for me to shake, which I took. "It's always good to see you. You look so much like your mother."

"Thank you, Senator," I spoke softly, gently putting a hand on my father's arm. My mother was a difficult subject to talk about in our home. More so for Daddy than for me. I never really knew her. "May I ask what brings you here in such foul weather?"

"A little bit of business," Lewis sighed as my father left the room. I was a little sad to see him leave, but I guessed that he had already heard this "business".

"For me, I'm guessing?"

"Please, Evangeline, take a seat," He guestured towards one of my father's study chairs like this was his house.

As I sat, I wondered what business he was wanting to talk to me about. Could it be marriage? No, Daddy wouldn't have gone so pale because of a proposal. He would have been happy, probably more so than I would be.

"Evangeline," Senator Lewis started. "Do you remember taking the President's Fitness Exam a few weeks ago?"

"Of course," I smiled a bit. "Most of the girls thought it was rather difficult."

A broad grin came onto his face. "And you? What did you think of the test?"

"It was pretty cut and dry to me," I shrugged, remembering how breathless the otheres were while I felt just fine.

"Evangeline, that exam was the first day of PT for the United States Marine Corps," Lewis continues smiling like a fool as he spoke. "You see, the war overseas in Europe is getting bloody and the Germans are increasingly hostile with the French and British. Both of which are pressuring us to join the effort. Congress is preparing to declare war at any moment, but seeing as the Germans haven't done anything to us just yet, we're going to continue giving aide."

Still, I was silent. Germans? War? I had seen the news reels of Germany invading Poland and I knew that France and Britain were begging for our help. But the United States, as a country, still had empty pockets from the first war. Making weapons, clothes, food, travel arrangements, and other things to prepare for war was expensive. I hoped we wouldn't be needed in battle any time soon.

"No one in Washington is certain if we'll have enough enlisted soldiers if we decide to go to war," Of course the Senator meant DC. "The President has thusly issued an official US Government experiment. He wants to know if women can train, shoot, fight, and command a battalion as successfully as a man would." John wasn't a very fast talker; he was descriptive and slow. But my head still swam with all the information he was giving me.

A woman in combat? There hadn't ever been a woman fighting for the United States . Ever. With an exception of Mary Ludwig Hays, or by her better known name, Molly Pitcher. However, the folklore and ledgends from other cultures of women fighting wasn't too rare. The Amazon Warriors, who fought bravely and feared no man. The Viking Valkyrie who swooped from the Heavens and took dead warriors to the halls of Valhalla. And then there was the Chinese legend of a woman taking her old and crippled father's place when he was drafted into war. From the way the Senator described it, the President was going to have women participate in battle.

"You're rather silent, Evangeline. Mind telling me what you think?" The Senator asked.

"Just taking it all in, Senator." I answered.

"Please, call me John."

"John," I corrected myself. "Perhaps you can also tell me why you're telling me all this?"

He nodded and sat on the edge of his seat, lacing his fingers together. "Evangeline, how would you like to serve your country and be the first American woman to serve your country and see combat since the Civil War?"

Somehow, something in my brain already knew that he was going to ask this of me. I was slightly stunned and didn't really know what to say. So we sat in silence for a bit until I found my words.

"Why me? Why not any of the other women?" I blurted. Again, John smiled.

"That test was given at all the Universities across the United States where women attend. Only three women got scores as high as any man could. Only one of those three got a perfect score." John's smile turned devious, as if he had some gossip to tell.

"Me?" I guessed. John smiled brightly, nodding a little bit. "I'm guessing this is what made my father lose his color. Perhaps I can sleep on the decision?"

"Of course," He nodded and stood.

"Where are you lodged?" I asked again, standing as well.

"Oh, just a little inn in Gonzales," John shrugged.

"Perhaps we can get you a room here. Gonzales is an awful long drive, especially in this weather." I suggested, leading the politician out of the study. I heard a chuckle come from him as he followed me to the parlor.

"That would be nice. Do you think you'd have another room in this castle for my driver? He was falling asleep earlier."

"That can be arranged," My father spoke, stepping out of the parlor, his pipe in hand. "Angel, could you go upstairs and finish up your homework? I have somethings I need to discuss with Johnny."

I gave my father a small nod and returned to my room. Even through the thick walls and doors of our house I could hear my father vehemently objecting to me joining the Marine Corps. He had been a Corporal in the first Great War for the Marines and had seen many things he didn't dare speak about. I was not one bit surprised that he didn't want me to go. But I couldn't help but wonder, was it because I was all he had left or because he felt women shouldn't be allowed in the military?

As I finished my paper to the steady rain falling on my window, I couldn't push the offer of the Marines out of my head. While most women were only allowed to be cooks or office workers for every branch of the military, I would be the only one giving orders and shooting down enemies. Something inside me, animalistic almost, liked the idea of standing for what my country believed in or protecting our allies. This primal Evangeline thirsted for that kind of power and authority. However, there was another side of me that didn't like this at all. That Evangeline was timid, and wished to stay in her room.

The weather cleared and after a rather tense dinner with my father and John, I went to the front yard. Futher from the house than the Live Oak was a Willow with two wood planked swings on one branch. With the rag I had brought with me, I wiped off the rain water from one and sat on it. The swings were in just the right position so I could see the fireworks being set off in the streets of downtown Baton Rouge. As the explosions went off, lighting up the sky with pinks, greens, blues, and yellows, I softly hummed the National Anthem. It was still a little weird to me that my birthday was on the fourth.

When I finished the anthem, I heard the sound of shoes squishing across the wet yard. I tossed the rag I used on my swing onto the other one. My father stood next to me, wiping off the drippings from the Willow, eventually sitting on the swing. We sat in silence, watching as more firewords, this time red, white and blue ones, lit up the night sky. I wanted to ask my father of the things he had seen in the trenches of the Great War. But I knew he wouldn't answer. He never would.

"I think I'm going to do it, Daddy," I spoke, breaking the silence between us. "I think it would be an honorable thing for me to do."

"I was eighteen when I enlisted in the Marines," He sighed, holding onto the ropes of the swing and leaning back. I watched him, listening intently. "The Great War had just been declared in Europe. Everyone in the States held their breaths for when we would enter. It wasn't until '17 that Wilson announced that we were aiding our allies. I was 21 when I was shipped off. Your mother was devistated."

"You and mama were married by then?" I asked, astonished that he was talking about this.

"Yes," Daddy nodded. "We married when I was 19 and a Private First Class. Honestly, I'm surprised she didn't get pregnant until the end of 1919. But the things I saw in Europe...they scarred me."

I noticed the hitch in his voice as he began to delve into his most guarded memories.

"Best friends, leaders, men I didn't even know, I saw them all die. Angel, I don't have one friend alive today that I went to high school with. Not one. Many times I would lay on the cold, hard ground and look at the starry night sky and think, 'why me? Why am I still alive when I've had to see my friends be shot down?' Sometimes I can still see the blood of my friends still on my hands," He held both of his infront of his face, as if he was inspecting them for twenty-two year old blood that had long ago been washed away. "And then, almost as quickly as we were called into the field, the Great War was over. Your mother was the only one who seemed like she tried to understand the burden that had been placed on me.

"My contract with the Marines ended one year after the end of the War. And then," He looked at me, fat, emotional tears rolling down his face. "Then you were born, Angel. Your mother didn't seem to understand why I was so fiercly protective about sending you to schools. She wanted you to go to boarding schools while I began to take over my father's company. I wanted you home schooled by a tutor of my choice. Fights about you turned into fights about us and 'who we were as a couple.' I remember hearing your mother on the phone with hers, saying that I loved you more than I would ever love her. At first, I denied it. The love I had for your mother and for you were totally different. And then I began to change."

This overload of information was crushing me, not to mention seeing my father cry was a sight that would break even the toughest. Why had he waited so long to tell me this? It didn't seem fair.

"I couldn't see your mother as the woman I fell in love with all those years ago. She was cold, harsh, and unemotional at times. But most of all, she was angry. Marie found it difficult to be in the same room with you when you were having a tantrum. She left when you were seven, but you know that. Evangeline, you are all I have anymore. I'm not sure how I could live if I lost you in Europe. However," He took a long, shaky breath. "You are a grown woman, you are allowed to make your own choices. And if you take this offer, I hope you give it all that you can. All I ask is that you come home to me alive, and not in a pine box."

In a mad rush, I stood from my swing and into my father's arm. The long, black hair that I inherited from him covered my face and his back as I cried onto his shoulder. I couldn't remember the last time I cried like that on his shoulder. I had to be in junior high school, perhaps a freshman in high school; I couldn't remember. As I bawled and snotted onto his expensive suit jacket, I could feel the cold, wet tears that belonged to my father drip onto my neck as he held me.

If there was a time I wanted to change my mind, it was now. But I didn't. I felt some kind of obligation to give the President and the Marines a good report and good results. I had to do this - I wanted to do this. It wasn't that I was trying to be hero or brave, but my country was calling upon me. As my tears dried and I simply held onto my father's neck, I made my final decision. I was going. And I'll be damned if I wasn't a person in charge by the time the war was over.

Please, tell me what you think. I really really want to know! Even if you don't like it, thank you for reading :]