The fire crackled on the sandy beach. Rafe glanced at the last of Evelyn's letters one final time, before setting them ever so gently into the flames. He leaned back against the bark of a dead tree, and watched the smoke drift into the darkening sky.

"I've been lookin' all over for you," a voice spoke from behind him. He turned to see Danny standing above him.

Rafe motioned for him to sit, and he did. "Danny…this ain't the time to leave things unsaid."

"You got that right."

"The fact is, we both love the same woman."

Danny looked down at his feet. "You're not going to hit me again, are ya?" he asked, looking up with a crooked grin, remembering the night at the bar all too well.

Rafe turned and looked at him, his facial expression not changing. "I'm alive because of her…loving her kept me alive…"

"I know that, Rafe. But I couldn't have stopped what happened between me and Evelyn, any more than you could have quit loving her."

"I…" he struggled to find the words he wanted to say. "You're my family, my brother, my friend. I don't wanna lose you."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, you're a good man, Danny…" Rafe said, and began fidgeting with a small stone in the sand. "You'll be a good husband; and a good father…someday."

Danny looked into the eyes of the man sitting beside him. Could it be? Forgiveness?

"You've always been like a brother to me, and…and I don't want you to go on this mission."

Danny's eyebrows furrowed together. "How can I not go on this mission?"

"She's already lost one man to the war, don't make her lose another," Rafe replied, looking at the burning remains of Evelyn's letters in the dying fire.

"It's my duty to go," he stated simply.

"Don't you preach to me about duty," Rafe replied, their conversation echoing from one in the past.

"You're not leaving me. Not this time! I'm not gonna let you," Danny burst out, his eyes narrowed.

Rafe sighed in defeat, "Then you listen to me, Danny Boy, you come back alive, do you hear me? Don't be tryin' to pull that hero stuff. You leave that to me," he said with a grin.

He smiled at being called "Danny Boy," something he hadn't heard since they were kids. "Always tryin' to look out for me…"

"Damn right, kid," Rafe replied, and embraced his younger friend, ruffling his chestnut colored hair. "Land of the free…"

"…Home of the brave!"

--

Danny lay silently in his bunk, staring aimlessly at the bottom of the mattress above him. He looked out the small square window on the wall across the room and out at the sky, while the same scene played over and over again in his head.

"Bandits at two o'clock!" a youthful boy of eleven shouted.

"Powerdive!" another a few years younger responded.

The two boys sat, one in front of the other in a makeshift airplane shooting down fantasized enemies with imaginary bullets. Danny swiveled back and forth in his small seat, making machinegun sounds with his mouth and finally, an explosion.

"Good shootin', Danny!"

"Good flyin', Rafe!"

"Land of the free…" the older boy began, turning around in his seat to look at his friend behind him.

"…Home of the brave!" he responded with a large grin on his dirt covered face.

The occupant of the bunk above his stirred, causing a loud creak to fill the silence of the army barracks. Danny was shook from his memory, but only for a moment.

A pair or arms grabbed him from behind, and shook him. "You no-count boy!" Danny looked up to be face to face with his unshaven, drunken father. "I done told you, you spend time playin' with this stupid boy who can't even read, you ain't never gonna amount to nothin'! Now come on!" he exclaimed, dragging his son by straps of his overalls.

"He ain't stupid, Daddy," Danny pleaded, "He…" Before he could finish, his father raised his large hand and slapped him so hard, he fell to his knees. His father yanked him up again, and began to drag him across the open field.

Filled with rage, Rafe ran to their beloved airplane, and pulled off the two-by-four that had been used as the propeller. He ran after the father and son.

"Da…Daddy…" Danny stuttered, trying to keep up with his father's large stride. But still, his father yanked him along, until CRACK! The two-by-four came down with a thud at the base of his neck.

"Leave him alone!"

Startled, the old man looked around and saw Rafe McCawley standing in front of him with the board raised above his head, breathing heavily. His eyes bulged open wide as he staggered towards Rafe.

But Rafe stopped him, "I'll bust you open, you dirty German!"

As soon as the words were spoken the man froze, looking more hurt by them, than by the blow to his head. "I fought the Germans in the trenches," he mumbled, his words slurred together, "And I pray to God that no one will ever see the things that I saw…" He looked down at his son, shameful of what he had just done, turned, and continued his walk through the field.

Danny put his hand on Rafe's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "You're my best friend…" he told him, then turned and ran after his father.

Rafe looked across the room at Danny, looking dreamily out the window, and a smile crawled upon his face; the childhood promise echoing in his head. You're my best friend.

--

The two men sat side by side in the briefing room, doing all they could to keep their heart from leaping outside their chests.

"Gentlemen," Doolittle began, pacing up and down each row of pilots. "We'll take off late this afternoon. We'll drop fire and then we'll leave, it's as simple as that. We won't have enough fuel to get back to the carriers, so they'll head back to Hawaii as soon as we take off."

A flyer behind Rafe and Danny raised his hand, "If the carriers leave, where do we land?"

Doolittle stood still for a moment, and looked him straight in the eye, "I have a phrase I want all of you to memorize: Lushu hoo megwa fugi. It means: I am an American; in Chinese."

The room grew silent, until another pilot asked, "Colonel, what do we do if our planes are damaged and we have to bail out over Japan?"

"In that situation, I can't tell you what to do."

"What would you do, sir?" Rafe asked.

Doolittle looked down at the young pilot, who was like him in so many ways. He pressed his lips firmly together, then finally spoke, "I wasn't built to be a prisoner. If my plane goes down, I'm gonna have my crew bail out, and then I'm gonna dive into the sweetest military target I can find and kill as many of those Jap bastards that I can, " he paused, "But that's just me. Hell, I'm an old man. You boys are just starting out in life, so what you do is up to you…"

Both Danny and Rafe nodded, somehow knowing that from that moment on, neither of their lives would be the same.