The Private
When the new Private walking in, I was surprised at how serious he looked. He was already dressed in his olive-green uniform, which includes his shiny black boots, loose fitting pants, a black leather belt with a silver buckle, and a button-down shirt. I believe that his ID tags were tucked into his shirt. He was fairly tall, about five foot six, with a medium tan. He also had straight brown hair and big brown eyes.
Since he was going to be my wingman, we had to form a system of trust and get to know each other. We didn't use first names, just our titles. He decided to call me Miss. The only information he would give me was that he is twenty-four years old and will NOT work for or be commanded my someone younger than him. That was one of my problems since I had just had my twenty-third birthday.
Later that week, while practicing to see how well we fought together in the air, the age problem started. This is how I remembered it.
"Private, you are going too fast. Slow down immediately!" I commanded.
"Why should I listen to you? You are just a little kid," he replied harshly.
"Why should you listen to me? If you don't listen to me you could get killed."
"If I don't listen to you I could get killed! More like IF I listen to you I WILL get killed!"
"Fly back to base right now, you are done flying for today," I ordered.
After that day, he learned to listen to me. His confidence was proven when we were fighting in an actual battle. During the dogfight he proved his trust and another side of him that I had never seen before and never will again, from anyone.
"There they are. Follow me," I said.
"You lead the way, I've got your back," he replied reassuringly.
"They don't even notice us," I commented.
"Miss! Watch out! One's coming on fast!" the Private yelled to me.
"Shoot at them!" I yelled back.
Then my plane was hit and crashed hard into the ocean. The last thing I remember hearing was "I could have saved her. It's all my fault." It sounded like Private's voice, like he was being protective of me. I don't know for sure if it was him or not. Then I saw the doctors take me off the ventilator and life-support. The few people in the room were crying. Private was crying also, it showed that he did have a soft spot inside of him that I never saw before. They were also blaming themselves thinking that they could have stopped me from fighting. I still would have fought, though. Fighting was my life. I wish they wouldn't cry because now I am going home.