You sat on the wing of your B-17, drinking whiskey from a small flask as you gazed at the stars after the hell of a mission you just came back from. You felt the wing dip slightly, an added weight had sat down beside you.

"Sergeant." He nodded, sitting beside you and taking the flask from your hand, taking a swig of it before screwing the lid back on.

"Pretty aren't they?" He spoke, holding the flask in his hands as he looked at the stars with you.