WebNovelWar Torn42.86%

Chapter 15

This was before the war moved into our

own country, the fighting along the edges of the U.S. like flames

crumpling the edges of paper before burning farther inland. I was

flying then, the 123rd’s crack-shot pilot who could hit a target in

a dead spin before pulling up and away—I made the hardest stunts

look easy, and I prided myself in my accuracy. No one shot like me.

No one had the aim, the grace, the sheer luck that seemed to follow

me, clinging to everything I did. In the cockpit of a plane no one

could touch me. My squadron called me “Ace” but I hated that, it

sounded so pretentious. I was just a boy with iron wings who knew

how to fly.

That May evening I managed to snag

some downtime away from the barracks and headed on over to the

Bulldog with Alden, one of the worst bars off post and the

only place to be on warm spring nights. This night was no

different, and by the time we sidled up to the bar, the place was