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By Sophie (Lozano) Unkrey

It was 1949. From an idea conceived by Mrs. Ilo (Blossom) Scatena, a group of young World War II ex-Navy WAVES (Women Accepted for Voluntary Emergency Service) formed the club to be named Bakersfield Wavetts.

Beginning with a roster of 25 to 30 young women, 60 years later five remaining members are still meeting once a month. They are: Nancy Powell, Mary Pritchard, Lucille Sautter, Alma Smith and myself, Sophie (Lozano) Unkrey. Also a member of the group, but unable to attend meetings, is Doris Andrews.

We have donated our collection of scrapbooks and other memorabilia to the Beale Memorial Library’s Jack Maguire Local History Room.

One of the most memorable and proudest periods of my youth was joining the United States Navy as one of the first group of WAVES during World War II. I remember the long train ride from Los Angeles to New York, arriving at midnight and being asked to “muster” in the huge armory for barracks assignments. This was followed by a 5 a.m. rise, after three hours of sleep, then marching in the rain to our first classroom lecture.

It was not long before we became accustomed to the daily torture of early rising, long marches, aching muscles from shots in our arms for every conceivable infection, the hard-driving calesthenics, the obstacle course, and hours of classroom lectures. We were allowed time for fun and games, even a trip to New York for sightseeing. Also, we could not help but appreciate our beautiful surroundings of Hunters College where we were stationed.

I took much pride being a part of the Color Guard there. Later, having been transferred to Cedar Falls, Iowa for Yoeman training, as patrol leader I had the privilege of leading our squadron during our inspection and review before the Major and his staff.

After training, I was assigned to the newly organized Naval Ordnance Test Station at China Lake, where we were required to live in Quonset huts for a period of time. Being assigned to the Intelligence division as secretary to the commander in charge, I was assigned my own Jeep to pick up mail, and allowed on occasion to go out on the field with the field officer and staff during ordnance testing.

In our younger years, the Wavetts did all types of things to raise money for local nonprofits and children’s charities in Bakersfield. We also gave Christmas baskets to needy families.

Now we are in our mid-80s and we continue to meet for lunch once a month. It’s important for us to get together as a group and communicate about our shared memories and experiences. For instance, we all talk about how when we see the flag, it’s just a feeling we get inside, leaving us almost in tears, it means that much to us.
Having served in the United States Navy WAVES during World War II has given me the pride and love of our country that is immeasurable.

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By Mary Pritchard

I was a Master-At-Arms (MAA) and my duty was being in charge of a crew of 12 to 16 WAVES Seamen. Each day they were supervised in the cleaning of the WAVES barracks — common areas only. I also supervised the guard watch for the barracks. This was at North Island Naval Air Station, San Diego. I was also MAA at Balboa Naval Hospital San Diego, where I was involved in sports and recreation, supervising horseback rides and coaching the WAVES basketball team. This was during World War II.

I was recalled for Korea, stationed at USN Training Center San Diego. I was transportation clerk, routing graduate recruits to duty stations, supplying travel tickets and meal tickets.

I have lots of special memories. One in particular is V.J. Day (Victory over Japan Day), Aug. 14, 1945. The Fleet was in port. Sailors, WAVES, civilians, everybody was dancing in the streets in San Diego.

I can never forget the thrill and chill I would experience when I heard “Taps” at sundown. Regardless of what they were doing, playing golf, drinking beer, walking and talking, every serviceman and woman faced the direction of the main flag pole and the music, came to attention and saluted. Even the wounded in wheelchairs or on crutches came to attention and saluted. Drivers in cars stopped, got out and saluted. I still get that same feeling today when I hear “Retreat.” It makes me proud “I served.”

Now when the Wavetts get together for lunches, we help each other, since we are getting to be older and fewer. Being part of WAVES makes me feel proud that I did something for my country and helped in the war effort. It reinforces my patriotism and love for my country.

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By Nancy Wilder Powell

As I look back about 65 years ago, I ask myself, “Why did I go into the service?”
I had gone to William Woods College after high school. This was during the post-Depression years.

My brother had just graduated from Beloit College. There was money left over for one year for me. So I went away to college for that one year.

I had several jobs after that in Evanston, Ill., and was thinking about going into the service. My brother was in the Army Air Corps and flew air reconnaissance in a P-38 in Europe.

My mother’s cousin Alma, who was married to a Brigadier General, heard that I was thinking about going into the service. She told my mother that there was a much nicer group of girls in the WAVES than in the Army. So, I signed up.

I had my boot camp at Hunter College in New York. I was lucky. No K.P. for me. I applied for the singing platoon and made it. Not only did we learn how to march, we sang everywhere we went — down the streets of New York City, and on several radio programs, too. It was fun.

After boot camp, I went to Bethesda, Md., for Hospital Corps training. I only wish my training had been longer. They badly needed nurses and Corps WAVES so they shortened the training. We could have had lots more. From there I was sent to Corpus Christi Naval Air Station.

We worked on the men’s wards, WAVES wards, in the family hospital, with newborns in the nursery, and in pediatrics. We had night shifts and special watches. We kept busy.

While I was in Corpus Christi, I received a letter from Ed Powell who was in the South Pacific saying he had just gotten state-side duty. I wrote to him saying, “Fine, why not come to Texas?” He was sent to Cabanus Field several miles from me.

We were engaged for six months and then got married in the base chapel after the war was over, while still in the service. From there we moved to Bakersfield and had two boys. We had been married for 45 years when Ed died of cancer. I still live in Bakersfield.