WHEN AN AIRCRAFT PLUMMETED EARTHWARD, THE MEN INSIDE TOO VANISHED INTO THE ABYSS, SWALLOWED WHOLE BY THE UNFORGIVING DARKNESS BELLOW... Were they captured as prisoners of war, or left to wither away in a desolate potato field? None could say, for they disappeared without a trace. Barely a year had passed at Thorpe Abbotts, when 32 crews out of the original 35 were among the missing, their fate a haunting mystery, which included the three revered leaders — Bucky, Buck, and Duck/Ducky... all of them just gone, their absence a gaping wound in the heart of the squadron.
The bond they all shared was simply legendary, a sacred pact forged in the crucible of war. They were inseparable and invincible, bound by blood and duty. Some even compared them to Huey, Dewey, and Louie, because that's how close they all were. Imagining life without them seemed almost impossible, and seeing them without each other was utterly devastating for even the Colonel, who never really cared about anyone but himself. The mission over Münster was a testament to their love, a blazing testimonial to their unyielding resolve. But now, their dearth hung heavy in the air, a chilling reminder of the fragility of life amidst the chaos of war.
The whispers of their survival echoed through the corridors of the base, each word dripping with sorrow and uncertainty. They were warriors, comrades, people-in-arms — and now, they were gone... ingested by the merciless jaws of doom. The silence that followed the disappearance of those crews was deafening, like a punchline without laughter. Confidence shattered, morale shaken, the once-unbreakable determination now hung by a thread. If the golden trio, couldn't weather the storm, who could? Everyone naturally assumed that if anybody was to actually die out of one of them, it'd be John Egan for drinking and flying, and not by the hand of the enemy.
