The Bramanville Girls

By Beverly McLean Cambridge

This is a memoir about six close friends whose friendship started in grade school and continues to this day, although 3 of them have passed on. Faced with boredom when all of their boyfriends enlisted in 1942, this is a factual and often humorous account of how they confronted this problem. Their dream came true when they were allowed to occupy a vacant summer cottage on Lake Singletary, along with a 1927 LaSalle at their disposal, and thus could entertain servicemen from colleges in Worcester and Fort Devens in Ayer, MA almost every weekend during the summer months of the war.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 22, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452065052

Beverly McLean Cambridge

The author is an 86 year old widow and has written her first book, a memoir. She was born and raised in Millbury, MA in a section of town called Bramanville. She was happily married to Bruce Cambridge for 23 short years and spent a year and a half with him in Munich, Germany when his Medical Battalion was called up during the Korean War. She was widowed at age 49 and planned to retire at age 65, but finally found her niche in sales in the hospitality industry. She has lived in VA, FL, CA & HI and travelled extensively after her husband died in 1973. She finally retired at age 85 and immediately started to write her memoir while her memory was still vivid and intact. She has written much poetry throughout her life and had hoped to study journalism when she finished high school. She was unable to go to college due to family responsibilities and became a secretary. She received many rewards in high school for her writing and was encouraged by some teachers to pursue a writing career. Unforeseen circumstances kept her from doing this, but she hopes others finally will enjoy her memoir

Book preview

The

Bramanville

Girls

A memoir of six close friends from Millbury, Massachusetts who found a unique way to entertain servicemen during World War II. Their light-hearted and adventurous romp throughout the war will leave you laughing and applauding their generosity and ingenuity.

Beverly McLean Cambridge

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© 2010 Beverly McLean Cambridge. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 9/24/2010

ISBN: 978-1-4520-6505-2 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4520-6504-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4520-6503-8 (hc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2010912201

Printed in the United States of America

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to Shirley Brodin who was my closest friend right up to her final days. I miss her deeply and after writing this memoir I realized she was perhaps the most vibrant and entertaining of all the girls. Because of her unending curiosity, I always felt she would have made a wonderful CIA agent!

It is also dedicated to all of our wonderful mothers who not only supported us in our endeavors, but provided most of the wonderful food we fed to the servicemen.

Acknowledgements

I would like to express my sincere thanks to Marian MacPhail and Nancy and Bill Davis who were kind enough to take the time to edit my manuscript.

Also, I would like to thank Sue Tagliareni for all of my interruptions during her business day in Boston. She calmed me down when I thought I had lost the manuscript in my computer and helped me to understand so many functions that were new to me in the age of technology.

Finally, I would never have had the patience to finish this book if it had not been for Janet Stein. When I was in trouble, she would drive an hour or so to Hampton, New Hampshire from Boston, Massachusetts after her long hours at work and would cheerfully spend an hour or two or three helping me to get back on track. When I was ready to throw in the towel she would convince me that my efforts were not in vain and I would be rewarded when I finally saw my book in print. I will be forever indebted to her for all of her help and encouragement and for all she taught me in the process.

Awakening early, I watched a breathtaking sunrise from the balcony of our cliff-side hotel in Dubrovnik overlooking the sparkling Adriatic Sea. My husband was still asleep and I wanted to wake him to share this moment with me since it was the last day of our two-week trip through Austria and Yugoslavia. He had not been feeling well most of the ten days we had been traveling, so I decided to let him sleep as long as he could. He had been hospitalized in the Spring with what the doctors thought was a chemical pneumonia, but as the Fall approached and our trip drew nearer, I noticed he was losing weight. I begged him to see the doctor again. He was told his white blood count was low, but the doctor felt a vacation would be good for him and said to see him when he returned. As our trip progressed I could see that he was losing more weight and not eating very much. At each major city, I wanted to make reservations to return home immediately, but he kept insisting that we go on.

I dressed and went down to the dining room for breakfast and then decided I would go for my last swim as we were leaving for London the next day and then back to the states the following day. The beaches in Yugoslavia were mostly black rock rather than sand, especially this far south, so I tiptoed gingerly into the icy but refreshing water and swam for ten minutes or so. As I was walking out of the ocean I felt something sharp beneath my right foot. I reached down to pick it up, thinking it was just a jagged rock. It was difficult to determine what it was because it was covered with rust, but I decided it was a dog tag with the chain still attached. The name and ID numbers were not legible due to the rust. I put on my beach robe and placed the dog tag in my pocket. I walked slowly back to the hotel to locate the concierge. I asked him if he could find something to clean the dog tag and he said he would try. As I waited anxiously for him to return, I kept telling myself that there were probably hundreds of dog