136 | John W. Warner IV Norwegian physicists and their home-brewed Aquavit, some halfway decent flying hours under my belt. The usual boring mix. Youre a mystical sort, you understand. He leaned back on an elbow and made a pebble pile. Loud and clear. Did you know.. .it was I that recommended you to McMaster for the Porsche job? Ill bet Uncle Winnie was flushed with pride when you gave in. I only recommended a woman, but later on I found out via Drummy that they zeroed in on good olBeansy. She pinched his arm while he laughed harder. You? It was you? Bloody.. .old… hell… Dont be miffed old girl, awfully proud of you. Really was, you know. Dont be. I mucked up the job., .most of it anyway.Sorry.But as I just said She perked a bit. Wait, did you and Alice ever…? He sighed audibly. A dalliance. You were off wintering somewhere in the Alps in 39-4O with Jerry, lost and out of touch, she said. Dead maybe. Just a whimsy, mind. Said I was a rarity, said she doesnt prefer us great white hunters of little note and smaller manhood. Bea giggled. Shed scrub up well in pearls, perfume, and Chanel for old Gwafa over there. In her blood n all. Congolese Hear? of Darkness and all that. Miss her, too. Great book. Your two other school chums? Dee and Peach are dead. The Blitz. A hospital was hit. He straightened up. God almighty. Im so very sorry. Your Poppy? She drew deep breath. Fit and fierce. Supply job back in Blighty, guns and butter, salt beef and dried peas. Miss him dreadfully. Letters are few. My father actually got out of his stuffed chair at Whites, put down his beloved whiskey, donned a tatty uniform, and joined the Observer Corps. One night during a raid he was searching for incendiary bomblets and…accidentally fell to his death at St. Pauls, the roof you know. Funny, he and I thought very highly of Hitler once, and now.. .1 could strangle that filthy dog Fuhrer personally, the Io? of them. Bare hands. She cried again, overwhelmed with the wars suffering and loss and the days stress. Ill be at your side, Patches, by Gods holy light I truly will be someday. I dont care if revenge is a fruitless endeavor, this unholy fight has me in botheration up to my sandy eye sockets. Ive killed so many of the enemy Im beginning to like it, crave it. He held her tight, the nightly chill creeping around them, uncomfortably cooling their grungy pockets of sweat. Easy, Beatrice, the men might hear… he whispered.