Friday. The Friday after a bombing mission the 100th went out for drinks on the town in London. It being 1943, it wasn't too bad, but you got drunk. And I mean drunk. And when you woke up the next morning in a hotel room of sorts, there was that all familiar hangover.. but something more unfamiliar.

You were laying on someone's chest. That someone who happened to be your mutual friend who you didn't feel so strongly about.. and a higher up. Major Gale, Aka Buck, Clevens.