IT WAS 3 IN THE MORNING ON JUNE 25TH, 1943, WHEN THE BLOODY HUNDREDTH HAD BEEN ASSIGNED THEIR FIRST OFFICIAL MISSION... With thousands of hours of flight training back in the States, they had to believe that they were prepared; but deep down, they all knew that they were not. Physically, they were unmatched, the pinnacle of prowess. Yet mentally, they stood on the precipice, unshielded from the icy grasp of mortality's embrace. No amount of words or fanciful daydreams could steel them for the impending onslaught awaiting above. After all, there's no substitute for the lessons taught by experience.
"Sir... Sir, you're flying today." Whispered a guard, sent to wake the senior officers up. "Major Cleven, sir." He shook the blonde awake. Without another word, the man rose from his bed, quickly tidying up before heading to the restrooms to freshen up. He took not more than 10 minutes to get ready, before marching to the Infirmary to check up on his fellow commander. To his surprise, y/n was nowhere to be seen. 'Guess she must be flying today; she is, after all, a very formidable leader.' He frowned, acknowledging that he couldn't perpetually shield her, for she possessed the strength to safeguard herself. Their purpose, after all, was to defend the nation; not each other...
However, contrary to his assumption, the girl found herself in the commanding officer's office, engaged in a fervent debate about their upcoming mission. "I wouldn't have assumed I'd need to explain to you the gravity of your responsibilities." Sighed the Colonel. "You are aware that this isn't just about how well your crews make their beds, right?" He scoffed, trying to justify his reasons behind the unforeseen reduction in her position. "I am, sir — which is why I prioritize their flying and security more than their folding and sobriety." She reinstated boldly, making no attempt to conceal her profound disappointment.
