I’ve done extensive research on the many roles of Red Cross workers in Vietnam. None of the Vietnam Veterans that I’ve spoken to ever had any contact with women referred to as ‘Donut Dollies.’ The term ‘donut dolly’ is a hold over from World War I when women entertained men at armories and the like. No doubt the men who came into contact with these women in Vietnam were no less impressed by their sacrifice and willingness to be where American soldiers were. There were very few women who served in this capacity during the Vietnam War and only one was killed.

Josie Devereux stepped off of the Red Cross bus and onto the dusty earth of Camp Barnett. She was one of four girls with the Red Cross Supplemental Recreational Activities Overseas units (SRAO) assigned to set up and present entertainment for the soldiers. Dressed in her powder blue shirt and culott’s and unaware of the oppressive heat, the dainty red head looked around at her surroundings, her green eyes finally settling on her newest friend Daphne. The two exchanged looks wondering what they were in for here.

Josie and Daphne had spent the past month in Washington D.C. with 14 other girls getting shots, physicals, and training for the twelve months they would spend here in Vietnam. They were part of 105 girls that made up 18 SRAO units in Vietnam. They had learned how to prepare clubmobile programs to present to the soldiers here. Along with their Red Cross uniform they had been issued fatigues, combat boots, dog tags, and non-combatant cards to be used if they were captured. They were joined on the bus by two other girls who had already been in country for nine months.

A slender, tall blonde walked toward the bus that had transported the four dollies. Her hair was cut short, but framed her tanned face nicely. At one time SRAO workers, or donut dollies, were required to wear their hair at collar length or shorter but over time it had become an option for the girls although they were expected to wear their hair up when in uniform.

"I’m Susan Finch. I’ll be your unit director and chaperone here at Camp Barnett."

"Great. A chaperone." Daphne mumbled in disgust.

Daphne O’Rourke was a voluptuous brunette with chestnut eyes. She was from the Atlanta society circle. Why she, of all people, was here in Vietnam was a mystery to everyone who met her. Daphne was a free spirited, vivacious 22 year old woman. She never liked being thought of as a "defenseless little girl." She had been raised within the confines of gracious living but rebelled often against her father. Dr. Benjamin "Stonewall" O’Rourke was a well respected surgeon throughout the United States and a much sought after widower in the Southeast. Sissy O’Rourke had died under questionable circumstances when Daphne was a small girl leaving her to be raised by her paternal grandmother. Her childhood was a painful memory and the outspoken woman refused to speak of it to anyone.

Miss Finch continued as she led the girls to their quarters, "Curfew is at 2300 hours. You’ll be responsible for all kinds of things besides just playing games here at the base recreation hall. Some days you’ll help in the serving line at chow, other days you’ll take your ‘bag of tricks’ out to the flight line or to an LZ or even by the side of the road when it’s deemed safe. You’ll work as a group on base but you’ll be partnered up when you go out into the field. Oh and don’t forget. If you’re on duty, which you will be at least six days out of the week, you’re expected to be in uniform with your hair up. Whatever you’re doing, smile for the guys. They’re the reason we’re here. To bring a little bit of home to the jungle."

Daphne was still complaining about being chaperoned as Miss Finch continued explaining other regulations. "You are allowed to have male visitors in the front room of your quarters. You’ll have your own latrine and your own shower. I’ll be by every evening at curfew to make sure everything’s all right. The door is to remain locked during the night. Your bunker is separate from the guys. You’ll be working most closely with the enlisted men - but only on a professional level, ladies."

Josie did not mind rules or regulations. She was the youngest of seven children and the only girl. She was all too familiar with being chaperoned and having a curfew. The quiet farm girl from Alabama thought of her brothers and how proud her parents were of them.

The oldest two, Jack and Rusty, had gone to college and then on to join the military. Jack was a captain with the navy seals. Rusty was an Air Force pilot. He had graduated from the U.S. Air Force Academy in Colorado. He had been shot down over North Vietnam in 1965 and had not been heard from since.

The twins, Will and Steve, had both served in Vietnam. One with the marines the other decided to make the army his career and served as an army drill sergeant back in Georgia. Allen was Killed at Khe Sanh earlier in the year during the Tet Offensive and John was serving as a medic at a hospital in Tokyo. All of the boys had grown up listening to their fathers’ glorious stories of Patton’s 8th Army and how he had defeated the Germans. They never had a choice about what they had to do while a war was raging.

Josie was different though. The calm in the midst of a storm Whenever a fight broke out between the brothers there was Josie to settle the air. She loved her brothers but they had also been a great source of pain for her. The boundaries of a small Alabama farming community were tight for Josie and her brothers had never made it any easier. She was a pretty girl with green eyes that danced whenever her lyrical laugh was heard. She turned heads where ever she went. Her quiet, shy way intrigued everyone she met, especially men. Her brothers always kept watch. The one boy who had pursued her in high school quickly conceded when confronted by six strapping men. Josie begged her brothers to leave would be beau’s alone.

"Are you listening, Miss Devereux?" Miss Finch’s voiced pulled Josie back to the present. "Devereux, you’ll be partner’s with Norman when the need arises."

With who? Who’s Norman? Josie’s mind try to think of who Norman was.

"Kara Norman, Josie." Daphne reassured as she pointed to another girl. She could tell that Josie had traveled far away in her mind.

"Oh, ok." Josie answered, embarrassed to be caught daydreaming.

The group of women walked up to a wooden structure that appeared to be relatively new compared to the other buildings on the base. It had, in fact, been built especially for the donut dollies by the men of Camp Barnett.

"This is it girls, home. Get your things situated. I’ll be back in about 30 minutes and I’ll walk you over to the Rec. Hall." Miss Finch turned and walked away.

As the girls opened the door to a porch and stepped in, they stopped to take in the surroundings. Within the screen walls of the room were a few homemade chairs sitting around. Tables sat beside some of the chairs. They walked to the opposite side of the room and opened a door that led into the sleeping area. The bunks were basic and there was no place to put folded articles of clothing.

"Oh my gosh! You must be joking!" Daphne was mortified by what she saw. The room was meager in appearance.

"What did you expect little rich girl? The plaza?" Kara Norman was a forthright woman from Chicago. She had not attempted to hide her disdain for the southern aristocrat.

"I don’t know what I expected, but I didn’t expect this! Where am I suppose to put my clothes?" Daphne complained. "And where are the bathrooms?"

"You leave your clothes in your foot locker. The one you brought all of your civvies in." Kara answered snidely. Kara Norman was a despondent 23 year old woman. She had seen too much here in Vietnam. She and Elizabeth Waye had already worked for the SRAO for nine months. They had traveled all over the country and Camp Barnett was their next stop. They had entertained soldiers at LZ’s, on roadsides, in Recreation Centers and tents. Where ever there were American men in Vietnam, Kara and Elizabeth had been there.

The time spent here had taken its toll on Kara. Nothing mattered any longer. She would smile and wave at the men but she was just as tired of everything here as they were. She just wanted to go home.

"O’Rourke, why’d you come here anyway? Your debutante status not good enough?" Kara wanted a fight, an argument, anything that would take her mind off of her emotional pain.

"Kara, leave her alone." Elizabeth’s proper Massachusetts accent interrupted the escalating tension. She continued, "The showers are in the building next door, Daphne, and the latrines are out of the way. We’ll use different ones than the men."

"Yeah Daphne," Josie joined in, "It’s not so bad. We have a roof, our own latrine and a shower." Her quiet, warm voice shocked the other women and she took advantage of the silence, "Besides, you thought we’d be camping out in tents." The girls giggled at the prospect of seeing Daphne O’Rourke camping anywhere. Just like the boys, Josie thought, laugh and the world laughs with you.

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