"He looked better than he did the night before." Was Belle's assessment of her navigator when he climbed aboard. The drunken raving boy had been replaced with a timid young man. But she could still hear his cries, silent now but just under his carefully crafted cool exterior.
"I don't want to die!"
"I don't want to die!"
His desperate pleas accompanied by their own special swig of his wine bottle were broken only by Belle's answering replies. He couldn't hear her. He never could but the B-17 spoke them anyways if only for her own reassurance.
"You won't die."
"You won't die!"
Whatever assistance she could offer could never change the outcome of a battle or the war, but if she could somehow, be it through sheer will or some kind of miracle, be able to bring all her boys home safely just this one last time. That then, would be what she would do.
"You won't die. I promise."