For Love of Country Military Police Woman (for your signed copy order from me directly at www.silvaredigonda.ca) I accept invitations for readings, book stores etc...

I awoke at five to Rebecca’s knocking at the door. We spent some time reminiscing and talking about our future aspirations. Sally came to the house at 6: 30. About 15 minutes later, we departed to take Rebecca home. Sally would be driving me to the Toronto Base. My mother stood by the doorway waving goodbye. She tried to hide her sadness, but the tears flowed. It made me very nervous. Sally drove me to the Toronto Base, leaving me at the Recreation Centre. Now I was completely alone. I walked up to the second floor, which had a snack bar with a huge serving counter where I ordered a coffee. There weren’t too many people there. I didn’t have long to wait before an old green bus with “Canadian Armed Forces” printed on it in white paint arrived to take me to Trenton. The ride was quiet, with only a few on the bus. On arriving at Trenton I met two women who had also just joined: Marie and Rose. They were going to the same place as me for basic training – Cornwallis. I spent the day walking the grounds and found a post card to mail home. As nightfall slowly approached, I walked to the military airport to await my flight. I looked around me and again noticed that there weren’t a lot of people waiting. An elderly couple was walking with a woman about my age to a bench a little ways from me. The young woman wore glasses, had mousy-coloured hair and was horribly dressed in shades of brown, but she glowed with happiness. Another new recruit, I presumed. I heard her address the elderly couple as her aunt and uncle. Her parents must be dead, I thought. At 8: 55 PM, 11 October 74, I found myself on a military plane flying to Ottawa. Surprisingly, I was not afraid, though I had never been on a plane before. (I had once turned down a trip to Europe for fear of crashing.) “I’m a photographer,” the huge woman who sat beside me remarked. Her hair was cropped short and she appeared very masculine. Stories of how homosexual women were attracted to the military entered my mind. “I’m six feet tall,” she stated matter-of-factly “How tall are you?” “Five foot six,” I responded. Actually I was five foot five and three-quarters. One-quarter short of the required height. I had stood nude on the weight/height scale. As the doctor focused on my weight, I stood on my tiptoes in an attempt to obtain the minimum height. I believed I had fooled him at the time. “I would like to photograph you in the nude, some time,” she remarked. I thought I was going to die. So it was true what they said about military women! Her manner was as casual as if she had asked me to join her for tea. “I don’t think so,” I replied. “I don’t let just anyone see me in the nude.” I refrained from encouraging further conversation. It was about a half-hour flight. We had a brief stop at Ottawa before continuing to Nova Scotia. My thoughts dwelled on the future and all the prospects that were open to me. The rest of the trip to Cornwallis was pleasant. Excerpt From: Silva Redigonda. “For love of country : military policewoman. www.silvaredigonda.ca