Annie's Doll: World War II on the Home Front

By Mary Ann Eiler

Six-year -old Annie is living a nightmare no one should have to endure alone.   World War II is raging in Europe and in the Pacific, and though Annie is far from the front lines, she feels the horror of war on the home front: beloved neighbors are killed in action, her family hears of relatives suffering in Europe, and she sees war’s violence and destruction in weekly newsreels.  Strict rationing and blackouts challenge her own daily life. 

Added to this, when Annie contracts rheumatic fever, she has “her own war to win” if she is to survive!

But she has a constant companion – the chubby baby doll, a 1942 Christmas gift, --who helps her “fight” to get well and survive the heartaches of war.  Everyone loves her doll, even her school-mate, Emile, a “war guest from France,” and her aviator pen-pal in the Royal Air Force.

Inspired by her own recollections of World War II and the personal accounts of war veterans, Eiler has written a sobering reminder of the sacrifices of war as a tribute to The Greatest Generation, intended for children studying the war and adults alike.  The doll opens a gateway to discussing difficult topics with children like hope and perseverance in the face of illness and crisis while the novel’s focus on magical play will interest doll and toy enthusiasts.

In the novel’s “magical ending” Eiler offers a touch of whimsy.  The war is over.  The celebrations have ended.  Not to be “outdone,” Annie’s doll makes her a promise the reader will hold dear – who said dolls can’t talk?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Outskirts Press
• Release date: Jun 16, 2023
• ISBN: 9781977265951

Mary Ann Eiler

Mary Ann Eiler is a published poet with academic and corporate publications. She holds a PhD in Linguistics and a graduate course of study diploma from the Institute of Children’s Literature (Connecticut). She is a retired English teacher and language arts consultant. She also taught linguistics and technical communications at the Illinois Institute of Technology. Mary Ann has traveled extensively in Europe and Asia and studied in Switzerland and Australia. Annie’s Doll is her debut novel.

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Annie’s Doll: World War II on the Home Front

All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © 2023 Mary Ann Eiler

v3.0

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.

This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Cover Photo © 2023 Mary Ann Eiler. All rights reserved - used with permission.

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PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Dedication

For my mother, father, and sister, and all the little girls

in war-torn countries of World War II

who lost their dolls

and for Rubie, the best doll doctor ever,

and for Oncle Larry

Preface

A long time ago when the world was at war, there lived a little girl who loved her doll more than anything else. The more she played with her, the more the doll became a real little person with thoughts, feelings, and a life of her own.

Of course, the doll couldn’t really talk but the little girl heard her voice and spoke for her. Although the doll couldn’t grow up like the little girl did, she, too, changed and grew in ways no one could see or understand except the little girl. They became intimate friends and shared the same soul.

This is their story.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Dark Stars and Sugar Plums—Christmas 1942

Chapter 2

My Saluting Buddy—Summer 1943

Chapter 3

The Refugee Doll—Fall 1943

Chapter 4

Bonjour Chabo—Winter 1943-194

Chapter 5

I’m Glad You’re Not Real—Spring 1944

Chapter 6

Invasion—June 1944

Chapter 7

The Accident at Pell Lake—Summer 1944

Chapter 8

Letters—September 1944

Chapter 9

Homecomings—Spring/Summer 1945

Chapter 10

An Ending and a Beginning—Summer/Fall 1945

Chapter 11

A Wedding, a Farwell, and a Promise—December 1945

Chapter 1

DARK STARS AND SUGAR PLUMS

Christmas 1942

Annie clutched her flashlight and prayed the bombers wouldn’t find her second floor flat. The closet was cold and musty, but she felt safe there. She wished her dad wasn’t an air raid warden. Don’t go! she begged when he and landlord Bill put on their white helmets and went out to make sure the neighbors had hung blackout curtains on their windows. That way, enemy airplanes couldn’t find their block.

Annie, it’s just a drill, her mom explained. You will be OK in the dining room with your nonna and me. The airplanes have to cross the ocean first before they get to America. And then they have to fly even farther to reach us in Chicago. But Annie wasn’t taking any chances and headed for the closet.

In the glow of the small blue bulb, she examined the hand-me-down dolls at her feet. They looked so stiff and shabby. Fannie’s cheeks had as many cracks as her nonna’s had wrinkles. Fannie’s painted eyes never closed and when she sat, her legs stuck out like drumsticks. Lou-Lou was too tiny to be a real baby and couldn’t sit at all. I wish I could choose my own doll, one with a pug nose, a sweet little mouth, and eyes that open and close, Annie said to herself. Someone who could be my friend especially on scary nights like this.

When the air raid sirens sounded an all clear, she went to the window and looked out on the winter night. It had started to snow big feathery flakes. The moon was playing hide and seek with the clouds, and the stars were dark. All the houses were dark, too, except Mrs. Barta’s. Her bedroom light stayed on all night. Nonna said she couldn’t sleep because her boy, Ignazio, was lost in battle in the Pacific Ocean. Annie remembered the spring morning he came to say good-bye. He looked so handsome all dressed up in his dark blue Marine’s uniform. She wished she had a big brother like him. Every time Ignazio saw her playing outside, he gave her a little treat like a Hershey bar or a licorice root stick.

Are you going far away? she had asked him.

Yes, Annie, across the Pacific Ocean. Here let me show you. He took a map out of his pocket and pointed to the Philippine Islands.

Why do you have to go so far away?

To win the war against the Japs, who bombed Pearl Harbor. Then he put her on his lap, taught her how to salute, and gave her a big hug. Will you do something for me, Annie? When she nodded, he reached deep into his pocket and took out a gold butterfly charm and placed it in the palm of her hand. My nonna gave me this charm the day before she died. I was about your age, then. She told me that just when the caterpillar thought its world was over, it turned into a beautiful butterfly with a new life. Will you keep this safe for me until I come back?"

Annie stared at the butterfly’s golden wings. They shimmered like pieces of the sun and filled her hand with a warm glow. I will put it under my pillow and hold it when I’m scared, she promised. Then she reached up and gave him a goodbye kiss. Now, Ignazio was missing somewhere, and his mom couldn’t sleep. Not having a doll is nothing compared to not knowing what happened to Ignazio, she thought, swallowing her complaints. That night before she went to sleep, she knelt at the side of her bed with the charm in her hand and prayed, Please, please God find Ignazio for us.

The next morning she awoke to a blizzard and couldn’t play outside, so she asked her mom to read her favorite story about Peter Pan and Neverland. When her mom finished reading, Annie asked the same question she always asked, How can a boy fly, Mom?

It’s magic, Annie. Anything is possible with magic, but you have to believe.

Do charms have magic, too, Mom?

Of course, her mom explained. That’s why they are called charms.

When her mom finished the story, she gave Annie an album of family photos. Here, look at these while I bake some bread.

Annie flipped through them until she came to one she didn’t recognize. Who’s this? she asked, pointing to the snapshot of a chubby baby stuffed in a fluffy white bunting. She looks like me but I’m a big girl with lots of curls.

Her mom wiped the flour off her hands and peered down at the photo. Why that’s you, Annie, when you were a baby.

I wish Santa would bring me a doll that looks real like her, Mom.

That afternoon when it had stopped snowing, her mom asked, How about if we go downtown to Marshall Field’s store and see if there is a doll you like?

Annie quickly zipped up her leggings, buttoned her hood and coat, and wrapped a big scarf around her neck. She was so bundled up she could hardly move, but she wanted to get to the store right away. Hurry up, she called back to her mom as she plodded ahead in the snow as fast as her legs could carry her.

The streetcar was so slow Annie was sure the store would close before they arrived. When the conductor finally called out Randolph and State, she ran to the exit. Then she grabbed her mom’s hand and pulled her across the street to the store’s revolving doors. Up the elevator they went until the operator girl opened the door with her gloved hand and announced Sixth Floor.

The toy department was a fairyland with plush red carpets, pillars wrapped like giant candy canes, and crystal trees on every counter. Annie saw bride dolls, storybook dolls with flouncy dresses, rag dolls, and saucy French porcelain and German bisque dolls with apple-red cheeks and sassy eyes. They glared at her as if to say Go away. We’re too high-class for you. Nowhere did she see a doll who looked real enough to be a friend.

Don’t give up, Annie. Let’s go to see Santa. Maybe he can find the doll you want.

Annie sat on his knee and described her ideal doll. She has to look like a real baby with a lot of personality.

Well, young lady, he winked at her mom, I’ll do my best. If you find her before I do, will you promise to write and tell me?

I promise, Annie mumbled.

The next afternoon while her mom shopped for dress patterns and a new sewing kit at Woolworth’s dime store, Annie wandered off to the toy section. She saw skinny dolls dressed in perky pink coats and hats and girl dolls with their hair in ponytails. Same old thing, she said with a frown. But then she spotted a box with the sign PAST SEASON. When she reached up to the counter and tilted the big brown box forward, a chunky baby doll in a white lace dress and bonnet opened her big brown eyes and whined.

Annie’s heart began beating like a drum. The store was bustling with shoppers. Little girls and their moms were coming down the aisle towards her. Don’t worry, doll, I won’t let anyone take you. Then she stretched out her arms at the counter like a security guard until they ached so much she was sure they would drop off.

That night when her dad came home from work, she heard him talking to her mom. Where’s Annie? She’s always at the door to meet me.

She saw the doll she wants at the dime store today and insisted on staying at its side until the store closed. I had to drag her away. She’s in her room now writing to Santa Claus.

He went straight to Annie’s room and gave her a hug. Annie, come and eat your supper. When we finish eating, I will help you with your letter and mail it special delivery in the morning.

All night Annie tossed and turned. Her mind raced with fears. What if my letter doesn’t reach Santa in time? What if somebody snatches up my doll? At breakfast she nagged her mom to take her back to the dime store. I have to guard my doll so no one will take her! But when she arrived, the doll was gone. She ran from counter to counter and cried so hard her cheeks felt like they were stinging with pins. And when her mom told her what PAST SEASON meant, she felt even worse. No one had bought her doll