Sandra returned from the bathroom with a naughty smile on her face. For a moment my imagination raced at the prospect of her joining me in my bed, the...shedding of our nightshirts the beginning of what was to follow. How wrong I was…‘What are you doing?’ I asked as Sandra lowered herself into a squat at the end of my bed, whilst staring at me with her big round eyes. I was dumbfounded. What was she doing?Whatever it was, it appeared that Sandra did not want to move from her position, her hands. The one thing we couldn't control, of course, was the weather. Naturally, most of our missions were the result of extreme weather, and it was one thing to take off and start looking for your target with low ceilings, heavy crosswinds and icing conditions. It was another thing to head home, bone weary after hours of futile searching with no result, and try to concentrate on getting back in one piece. As time went on, that airstrip got smaller and further away, I thought. At the end of fifteen. More

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