The Flak House as they called it—a grand house for war-torn soldiers to get away for a little rest and relaxtion.

You worked at the house, helping soldiers settle in, and cope with the price of battle. But, Robert Rosenthal didn’t want any help. He didn’t even want to be there. Still, you tried.

“Excuse me,” he said, strolling up to you. “How long…do I have to be here?” he asked. “I’d like to get back to base—back in a plane.”

You sighed. Stubborn, you thought.