𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 | 𝐃𝐔𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊 [Collins]

Chapter 22 - One last time

(revised)

I think Freya and I had come to peace with the fact that we were living far from each other. Nothing could be done about it so we would just wait until I could go back home to her for good. We were writing a lot to each other, and I could see in her words that she was feeling better. To have her telling me about her everyday life made me feel as if I was there too. She had a talent for describing the most common events and turn them into something poetic, so I kept encouraging her to write more. The better if it was addressed to me. Two days before, she had sent me a new picture of her, one taken by my father. She had cut her hair shorter than usual and she wanted me to see it and tell her if I liked it or not. I loved it. She was as gorgeous as ever, and I wished I could prove her in person. I had sent her a letter instead, to prove it with words, and I had placed her picture in my inside pocket, alongside the one I already had.

I had joined the rest of the team in the meeting room after that, to pass time in good company. I was playing cards, laughing with my teammates, when the phone rang to signal that we had a new mission coming. We immediately stopped our activity and listened carefully to our commander agreeing to what was said to him, impatiently waiting to discover what we would be up for. We exchanged looks as he hung up, knowing names would be called soon.

"Boyle, Jones, David, Edwards. It's your turn," the commander announced.

I was glad I had not been called but David, the new recruit, seemed to welcome the news with some difficulty. He reluctantly got up from the couch to walk to the table covered with maps and documents, and listen to the briefing. I observed him struggle to stay attentive, his eyes lost in the void. I could see he was unwell and totally exhausted, and it wouldn't be clever to ask him to leave on a mission like that.

I joined the group around the table and interrupted them.

"I'm gonna replace David on this one sir," I told my commander, causing the young pilot to look at me with surprise.

"That's really nice of you Collins, but no. I need you here today," my superior immediately stopped me.

"Don't you see he's not fit to fly at the moment? He will put his life in danger, and that of the rest of the team! It's wiser to replace him. Let the boy rest," I argued.

The young fellow reminded me of myself when I had joined the RAF and ended up in Duxford. I had felt completely lost, and as much as fulfilling my dream of becoming a pilot had thrilled me, the whole war dimension had been a lot to process. I had had some down periods, being away from my family for the first time, fearing death, having to become an adult too quickly. But I had had the chance to meet James and to be able to rely on him when things were hard. I knew how morally important it was, and so I needed to be that supportive person for someone else now. In that precise moment, David needed me.

My commander severely looked at me, but he was used to me letting him know my honest thoughts. After all, he had chosen me to be squadron leader. Once again, he knew I was right and so he nodded and ordained David to have some rest, for the next mission would be for him anyway.

"Thank you, Collins," the young pilot told me as he was about to leave. "You didn't have to do that."

"Just buy me a beer later when I'm back and we'll be fine," I joked, giving him a gentle slap on the back.

"Sure," he agreed before giving me a grateful smile and leaving.

I moved next to Boyle to study the information we had and prepare the mission.

"What a good man you are Collins," my friend said in a mocking tone.

"I'm sure you'd have done the same," I chaffed him.