By Josh Egbert, American Red Cross of Colorado and Wyoming, Public Affairs
After the attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, the American Red Cross quickly mobilized to supply aid to wounded soldiers as needed. One aspect of this aid was maintaining troop morale. Enter the Donut Dollies.
Donut Dollies was the popular term for Red Cross women who volunteered to work overseas in mobile service clubs called clubmobiles. These Red Cross volunteers provided food, entertainment and a bit of a connection to home to servicemen stationed in Great Britain and those on many European battlefronts.
Jackie Norris, a volunteer for the Red Cross of Colorado, was a Donut Dolly during Vietnam. She was stationed at Lai Khe in 1967 and returned to Colorado in 1968. When she returned, she continued with the Mile High chapter as an employee for many years and later a volunteer, where she continues to this day.
Earlier this year, she came across a new book titled “Good Night, Irene”. The book is about a woman named Irene Woodward. In 1943, Irene abandoned her abusive fiancé in Nw York and enlisted with the Red Cross to travel to Europe. It’s written by her son, Luis Alberto Urrea.
“I couldn’t believe there was actually a book featuring Red Cross Donut Dollies as the main characters,” said Jackie Norris. “I also loved the fact that Luis Urrea’s mother was a World War II Donut Dollie just like my mother.”
Jackie mother, Cheshire, was also a Donut Dolly during WWII. In 1943 she was stationed in North Africa and Sicily. Jackie says the Red Cross was part of her family’s story growing up. In fact, her mother was the one who told her about opportunities with the Red Cross for young women to go to Vietnam.
“I was 21, just out of college, and there I was doing recreation programs and games in Vietnam during a war,” said Jackie. “I was young enough that I basically wanted adventure and had no fear. We worked six days a week, and there was lots of variety. But the part that was most important was being there for the guys, many of whom were very young and were drafted. They were so happy to talk to a young American woman, we all represented their sisters, their girlfriends, etc.”
In “Good Night, Irene”, Urrea pays moving tribute to his mother and her Clubmobile comrades whose wartime service was largely forgotten because, even though they sometimes served under fire, they merely staffed the “chow-and-charm circuit.”
Urrea told NPR in an interview, “The way I came into this story was twofold. One was my mother’s nightmares. She had terrible nightmares, and she was scarred from her wounding at the end of the war. But the other thing was that she had an Army footlocker that the Army provided her, even though she was Red Cross, and within it was stuff that she had brought back from the war.”
Growing up, Urrea had strict orders never to open that footlocker. After his mother passed away, he opened it, finding photos of corpses on the ground his mother had taken at Buchenwald, a concentration camp that set within the German borders in 1937. Urrea said his mother took pictures until she grew ashamed of taking them. But he says she told him she was ashamed every day since that she didn’t keep taking pictures and didn’t expect to be at the front lines of war.
“The Donut Dollies saw everything, and they were, I think, expected to keep the boys hopeful, you know, give them a taste of home, so, of course, coffee and donuts,” Urrea told NPR. “They passed out chewing gum. They passed out candy bars. They sometimes brought mail. You know, with that little record player, they would play the hits for them over the loudspeaker. And they were fully aware that many of those boys that they were flirting with or feeding, they would never see again, that they might be the last friendly faces those boys ever saw. And I think the toll of that was quite heavy.”
For Jackie, her experience in Vietnam as a Donut Dolly was different than Irene’s, but says she understands exactly what she and Dorothy endured.
“There were many moments that resonated with me, particularly the reaction of the GIs to seeing American women in a war,” said Jackie. “We had the exact same reactions in Vietnam. I also love the quote Luis put in the front page of the book, which described so perfectly what the experience was like for us.”
“Some think we’re so brave, but we really don’t know enough to be scared. Some people think we’re brats…some of us are. Some think we’d be better off at home, where a woman’s place used to be…about 200 years ago. Some stare, shake their heads in disbelief. Some where, some scream and wave- everybody greets us. Some wolf, some worship, some think you’re human and some don’t…you’re a Red Cross girl. You’re on the chow-and-charm circuit. You’re griping, kidding GI. You’re personality on legs.” -Anonymous World War II letter quoted in Marjorie Lee Morgan’s The Clubmobile- The ARC in the Storm.
Urrea told NPR the response of women so far has been overwhelming, beautiful and heartbreaking.
“You know, I just keep telling everybody our worst sin, I think, is writing mom off, writing granny off, writing Aunt Eva off. And when I talk to young folks, I tell them, your mother keeps telling you that dang story you’re so sick of hearing. One day, she will be gone, and you will wish to God you’d paid attention because you’ve let that piece of important history disappear. So, you know, I guess just a thank-you and a tribute to these women who shouldn’t be forgotten,” said Urrea.
Jackie echoes that statement and hopes Donut Dollies are never forgotten.
“There were only 627 Red Cross Donut Dollies in Vietnam during the whole war, and not many people even know such a job existed, so I hope “Good Night, Irene” helps to spread the word. We’re now the oldest generation and most of us in our 70’s, so we will all be gone at some point, too,” added Jackie.