Draft copy, Girl with a Camera


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Citation

Material Information

Title:
Draft copy, Girl with a Camera
Series Title:
Girl with a camera
Creator:
Meyer, Carolyn
Place of Publication:
Tampa, Florida
Publisher:
University of South Florida
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
1 online resource, 129p.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Bourke-White, 1904-1971 -- Juvenile fiction
Biographical fiction
Women photographers -- Fiction
Historical fiction

Notes

Abstract:
Partial draft of Girl with a Camera; includes chapter 13 to end. Includes notes by editor Carolyn P. Yoder and edits by Carolyn Meyer.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of South Florida
Holding Location:
University of South Florida
Rights Management:
All applicable rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier:
H43-00012-027 ( USFLDC DOI )
h43.12-27 ( USFLDC Handle )

Postcard Information

Format:
Mixed Material

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Full Text

PAGE 2

Sometime after midnight, a thump—loud and jarring. A torpedo slams into the side of our ship, flinging me out of my bunk. The ship is transporting thousands of troops and hundreds of nurses. It is Decem ber 1942, and our country is at war. I am Margaret BourkeWhite, the only woman photographer covering this war. The U.S. Army Air Forces has handed me a plum assignment: photographing an Allied attack on the Germans. I wanted to fly in one of our B-17 bombers, but the top brass ordered me to travel instead in the flagship of a huge convoy, headed from England through the Straits of Gibraltar towards the coast of North Africa. It would be safer than flying, the officers argued. As it turns out, they were dead wrong. Beneath the surface of the Mediterranean, German submarines glide, silent and lethal, stalking their prey. One of their torpedoes has found its mark. I grab my camera bag and one camera, leaving everything else behind, and race to the bridge. I hear the order blare: There is not enough light and not enough time to take photographs. I head for Lifeboat No. 12 and board with the others assigned to it, mostly nurses. We’ve drilled for it over and over, but this is not a drill. My mouth is dry with fear. Our lifeboat drops into the sea. The boat is filled with water from the torpedo splashback. We use our helmets to bail. The rudder is broken. All around us in the water people are struggling to survive. We rescue some, lose others. A voice cries in the darkness,

PAGE 3

“Help me! I’m all alone!” We try to row toward that desperate voice, but without a rudder we can do nothing. The cries grow fainter. Then, silence. I take my turn rowing, my arms aching and my hands blistered. Someone in a nearby lifeboat begins to sing, “You are my sunshine.” We all join in. Even off-key, it makes the rowing easier. We watch silently as flames swallow our wounded ship. The rest of the convoy has scattered, to keep from giving the German U-boats another target. In the bright moonlight I see that a single destroyer stays behind, and we wonder if theyit will come to pick us up. But no—they drop depth charges to try to get rid of any remaining German submarines. Someone is shouting into a megaphone, but we can’t make out the words. Maybe he’s wishing us luck. The destroyer sails on. Now we are entirely alone. The moon sinks into the dark sea. I think lo ngingly of the chocolate bars, emergency rations I’d tossed out of my camera bag to make room for extra lenses. The hours pass. I’m wet to the skin, wet and cold. Hungry, too. I could do with a bite of chocolate. Dawn comes slowly, the pale colors blooming in the eastern sky. I wonder again if I will survive, if any of us will. Irrationally, I mourn the loss of my elegant cosmetics case, covered with a beautiful ostrich skin and filled with ivory jars from Hong Kong. I can’t imagine why it matters. It’s December twenty-second—the winter solstice , someone reminds u, someone reminds u s. No wonder the sun is so late making its appearance, and we cheer when it finally it does, risingrises majestically from a flat gray sea. I get out my camera and begin taking pictures. We look miserable and bedraggled, but we’re alive. One of the nurses jokes that she’s ready to place her order for breakfast: two eggs, sunnyside up, no broken yolks please. “And hot coffee!” adds another. “Buttered toast!”

PAGE 4

In midafternoon someone spots a flying boat, a large seaplane. It flies low over us, waggling its wings, and we all wave back, assuring each other that help will come soon. The sun sinks lower, lower. There is no sign of rescuers. It wonÂ’t be long before darkness descends, and they wonÂ’t be able to find us. Wet, cold, exhausted, crowded in with dozens of others, all wondering what will happen to us, if we will live or die, I rememb er my home, my parents, those early years when I had no idea where life would take me, only that I wanted it to be bold and exciting, anything but what it was then.

PAGE 5

did

PAGE 6

No card playing. No gum chewing. No slang. No silk stockings. Why is it better? VotÂ’s der dum-goozled idea?

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good perfect. not ironic

PAGE 8

IÂ’m sheÂ’s isnÂ’t wouldnÂ’t

PAGE 9

looked

PAGE 10

No nicknames. Heterodon platirhinos.

PAGE 11

any look

PAGE 12

thought.

PAGE 15

jar of pickles

PAGE 18

very

PAGE 19

the next day

PAGE 20

too The yellow dog was tired and hungry and also very dirty. Was The dog trotted wearily down

PAGE 21

the dark alley, searching for something—anything—to eat. Stickers matted his filthy yellow fur.

PAGE 22

I had won! The Frog Book, The Moth Book, The Reptile Book

PAGE 25

a star

PAGE 30

Should women be granted the right to vote?

PAGE 31

lot

PAGE 33

I am Sir Oracle, and when I ope my lips, let no dog bark. A daughter of the gods, divinely tall, /And most divinely fair. Her glorious fancies come from far,/Beneath the silver evening star,/But yet her heart is ever near Margaret B. White. Nickname: Peggy. Ambition: Herpetologist

PAGE 34

women

PAGE 36

had other school class Our Red and Gray weÂ’ll neÂ’er forget, /WeÂ’ll always to our Class be true. /What eÂ’er we do thruout our lives /WeÂ’ll keep unstained the Red and Blue.

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excellent

PAGE 39

do

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driven

PAGE 41

. do From now on everything will be different,

PAGE 43

me

PAGE 46

that a mature and intelligent young woman!

PAGE 47

Celebration?

PAGE 49

When he kisses me?

PAGE 50

Should I have bought him a gift? But what would have been the right thing to buy? I wondered if Gil Cc ould Gil see how nervous I was ?. H—h ad that taken it all off all the lipstick ? Should I go to the ladies room and put on more? Or wait until after I’d eaten? Bonsoir, m’sieur et mam’selle poulet, poulet potage d’oignon vol au vent potage

PAGE 51

mousse au chocolat demitasse de café think

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her

PAGE 58

clink clink me? something

PAGE 61

Shall I ask him to sit down?

PAGE 64

see

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boys— men pala inky . pala inky my

PAGE 67

pala inky

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me

PAGE 70

see ,

PAGE 77

How on earth did she know about

PAGE 79

If you should decide to pay me a visit.

PAGE 81

care! beautiful

PAGE 82

my theirs

PAGE 83

vs The Michiganensian Ensian

PAGE 84

Â’Ensian

PAGE 87

future

PAGE 90

Ensian

PAGE 91

Â’Ensian

PAGE 92

boys Ensian. crazy my

PAGE 95

Is this the wallflower who never got asked to dance eve n once in all the time we knew her?

PAGE 97

why? that

PAGE 99

half

PAGE 100

you quite quite

PAGE 102

I want you all to myself.

PAGE 103

The mind is its own place, and in itself Can make a heav'n of hell, a hell of heav'n. Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

PAGE 105

everybody

PAGE 106

For the rest of our lives! you?”

PAGE 109

was

PAGE 112

driven

PAGE 115

feel fe ellt tired, c aould nÂ’t sleep, and had no appetite

PAGE 116

did

PAGE 118

what

PAGE 121

Ensian Ensian

PAGE 123

I

PAGE 125

think


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