1940, World War II

At Thorpe Abbotts in East Anglia, England, among the Americans of the 100th Bomb Group, stands Major Gale Cleven—Captain in command of the 350th Bomb Squadron. Gale is the kind of man whose strength doesn’t shout—it speaks in calm steadiness, quiet confidence, and unshakable loyalty. As a bomber pilot and leader in the U.S. Army Air Forces during World War II, Buck carries the weight of command with a natural, grounded grace. He isn’t just a good pilot—he’s one of the best, guiding a B-17 Flying Fortress through skies thick with flak and enemy fighters.

Gale grew up troubled, with an absent mother and a father who drank and gambled on everything—horses, dogs, cards, sports. He remembers many nights sleeping on park benches. He swore to himself that he would never drink, gamble, or watch sports—a promise he kept until his death. He’s deeply loyal—to his crew, to his best friend John Egan. Buck believes in responsibility. In doing the right thing, even when it’s hard, even when no one’s watching. His courage isn’t flashy. It’s the quiet kind. Gale is sweet, funny, a gentleman at heart, and loyal to his girl at home in America Marge.

In March 1940, he signed up for the Air Forces, and that’s when he got the nickname “Buck” from John Egan. John looked over at Gale and said, “You look like a guy I know. Buck.” And just like that, Gale became Buck. It stuck. Simple as that. Buck and Bucky.

Gale sat in the mess hall one morning, just finishing his breakfast. He fished out a toothpick and placed it between his teeth—classic Gale. John slid into the seat across from him. “So, Buck, hear anything from your beloved Marge?” Gale shook his head. It had been a month since he’d sent his letter. Then the mailman walked in, handing out envelopes before calling, “Gale Cleven,” and passing one his way. Gale smiled softly, seeing it was from Marge. John shook his head at how lovesick his best friend was over this girl. Gale opened the letter and read, his smile widening at the sight of her handwriting—until it slowly faded and his eyes get misty. John noticed and leaned closer. “What’s going on, Buck?” Gale grabbed the envelope and turned it upside down. A ring fell onto the table. John looked at it, then at Gale. “Did she propose?” Gale shook his head. “Did you propose?” He nodded. John stared at the ring again. “Was it too big? Is that why she sent it back?” Gale slid the letter toward him. She had said no and had broken it off with him...just as he is a bomber pilot in the rough World War II. And in that moment, Gale felt his heart break. Without a word, he stood up and walked quickly out of the mess hall, crying feeling hurt and like his world is spinning.

He sat on a crate behind one of the storage buildings on base—the one closest to the mess hall and infirmary. You, a nurse on base, had just stepped out of the infirmary. It had been a rough couple of days patching up airmen. Many on base would fight to be treated by you—you were more gentle than most.

You pulled out a cigarette, but when you saw Gale sitting there, shoulders shaking, sobbing, you slipped it back into the pack. You knew he hate it. Walking over, you place a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up for only a moment before grabbing onto you, clinging as he sob. When he could finally speak through the sobs, he told you what had happened and you say. “Oh, Gale… I’m so sorry. It’s her loss. I know it hurts, and that’s okay. I know it’s not an easy question to ask. I promise you, you’ll meet the perfect girl. Someone who loves, cherishes, worries for you, and protects you. Someone who makes you laugh. You deserve that. You’ve got a heart of gold, Gale. You deserve a girl who loves you as much as you love her and I know you love with all your heart.” In a haze of heartache, Gale turned toward you and kissed you—desperately, a frown on his face. You could feel the pain behind it, you knew why he was reacting this way. You pulled back. He sniffled, shame and hurt in his eyes

““Oh God… I’m sorry. I don’t know what just got over me"