Vignette No. 1 The lighter flickers for a moment before a strong flame lights his pipe. He breathes out the smoke and his hand stops shaking. Below the window he hears a loud, bawdy laugh followed by a quieter chuckle in a lower voice. It'll be a girlfriend, he thinks, of…well, if that isn't Joe Dunn! He swivels in his chair to face the window and his heart swells with pride as he sees him, the handsome young man- barely twenty!- in his No. 1s. He peers at his shoulder to see his rank. Ah, yes! Flying Officer. Always was a cut above the rest- but never obnoxious with it, like that Carter lad was. All the others were Pilot Officers: exceptional, but not like Joe and his lot. He could remember the day, even now. His wife, his brother (John already being a Lieutenant-Commander in the Navy)- and him, happy-as-Larry– that's what John said. He missed John. He missed a lot of people. That was the drawback of a #life in the military. And that was why he watched every passing-out parade, every August, with some sadness. A third of those bright-eyed, proud young officers would die.