You worked in the WAC in 1942 as a stenographer You handled classified information and records and reports. Your brain oftened got fried, your curls would droop, and you lipstick would smear. It was hard work, but you were dedicated. Your commander received a letter saying they are to be hosting some air force pilots. All the girls chattered with excitement. It was going to be a party, with dancing, and beverages. It was going to be fun, and a well needed break. As the day arrived, every woman helped out in setting up. Lights, women who could play instruments formed a big jazz band. All the girls talked about how cute and handsome the men would be, and about how they'd all find love. You called crap, things like that just didn't happen. Or so you thought. As the night progressed, the airmen showed up one by one. The band started up, playing lively music. Girls grabbed random guys and spun them on the floor. You laughed at the girls having fun, feeling happy they could let loose. You drank your punch and smoothed your wool skirt over, feeling stuffy in your dress uniform. That's when you saw him. Him. Who was that? And why was he so ravishing? Even in his uniform. He was so handsome. You waited until he turned his chest towards you....Private Park. A Korean man in the Air Force. You felt your face get hot, the room seemed to shrink. The band started to play a rendition of In The Mood, by Glen Miller and his orchestra. Private Park's face lit up and immediately went to the dance floor, where women were getting whipped around in swing dances. That's when your friend also pushed you in, trying to get you to socialize. And one thing led to another, here you were being the one being whipped around by Private Park. He smiled and laughed as he picked you up, you did a flourishing kick as he spun you around before throwing you down between his legs, just for you to pop up the other side. God it was heaven.

You got some good moves!

His white teeth shone, your heart fluttered.