The War that Saved My Life by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley

“Why do soldiers need bed jackets?” I asked. I wasn’t sure what a bed
jacket was.
“Who knows,” Susan said. “They’re for hurt soldiers, I’d say. Ones that
have to go to hospital.”
I hadn’t heard of any hurt soldiers. “The ones that get blown up in the
ocean fall into the water and die,” I said.
“I suppose so,” Susan said, shuddering. “But there are different kinds of
battles. Some hurt soldiers survive.”
A few days later Susan got her WVS uniform. She put it on to go to her first
meeting. She looked nice in it. She wore stockings, and leather shoes with
heels. “Quit staring,” she said as she pulled on her gloves. “You could come
with me. A junior member. Or perhaps a token evacuee.”
I shook my head. While she was gone I thought I might try out the sewing
machine. Or cook something. The weather was wretched; I didn’t want to
ride. “Why are you scared?” I asked her.
She made a face. “All those proper housewives! I don’t fit in. I never
have.”
“You’ve got the uniform,” I said.
She made another face. “True. But it’s not the outside that counts, not with
that group. Oh, well.” She went away to her meeting.
I stayed home and broke her sewing machine.