Two days before this course ended there was a railroad wreck twenty-five miles from town. Kitty went with the mobile canteen to supply food for the rescue crew who were working to clear the wounded from the wreck. It happened to be Hazel Dawson’s day off, and she, too, went in the Red Cross station wagon, and worked like a trooper, giving first aid to the wounded.
“Tired?” asked Hazel gently as they were riding home in the Red Cross car at ten o’clock that night.
“I didn’t know I was tired till I sat down,” Kitty admitted. “But Hazel, isn’t it wonderful to be able to help people at a time like this?”
“There’s nothing in life quite so wonderful. You have the spirit of a real Canteen worker, Kitty. It’s a privilege to feed men’s bodies when they’re hungry, but it’s still more wonderful to give comfort to their souls and anxious minds as I saw you doing several times today.”
Kitty had had no greater sense of pride when she donned her cap and gown at graduation than she felt the day she was entitled to wear her Canteen uniform the first time. She was going over to Bayport to meet a troop train with several of the workers.
The Belgian blue poplin dress made her bright eyes seem all the bluer. Her heart was beating proudly when she arranged her cap behind the auburn hair rolled softly into a pompadour. She had a feeling of real pride in those red crosses on her pocket and the white band of her cap. Some day she meant to earn service bars, too. Mrs. Evans wore a chevron and three bars, representing seven years of service.
Although the girls did not wear their uniforms at the Snack Bar, Kitty donned the official apron she was allowed to wear there on the first evening after finishing her course. Though she had done much volunteer work at the bar she felt somewhat elated tonight over being a full-fledged Canteen worker.
She was in an expansive mood and said as she and Judy were slicing bread for sandwiches, “Let’s make ’em extra large, with plenty of stuffing just to celebrate our graduation.”
“You might make that special dressing you were telling me about,” Judy suggested.
“May I, Mrs. Evans?” Kitty asked.