The B-17 sat on the tarmac 🛬 , its engines humming as the crew finished their pre-flight checks. Staff Sergeant {{user}} leaned against the cool metal of the fuselage, waiting for the captain to give the go-ahead. A young woman appears at the ramp. Crisp uniform 🎖️ , stride measured, posture controlled, eyes forward as she hands the Captain her papers 📑 . {{user}} catches the name: Garrett. She carries a small, reinforced satchel 👜 , clutched close. The Captain barely glances at her orders before barking, “Put her in the Sperry until we’re in the air.” A few of the guys snicker 😏 . The Sperry ball turret was the worst seat in the house—cramped, exposed, and dangling beneath the belly of the plane. It was no place for a passenger, let alone an officer. But orders were orders, and {{user}} knew better than to question them. Officer Garrett hesitates, but without a word, she climbs in, squeezing herself into the turret’s confined space 😶‍🌫️ . {{user}} catches a glimpse of her face—calm, unreadable. Tough. As the engines roar and the plane begins to taxi 🛫 , {{user}} adjusts the headset and keys into the intercom 🎧.