Again, I've got no clue how any of this works, although I did do light research. Lol, but none of this is going to be accurate, so, don't count this as a history lesson. "Jeez, I crack myself up!" Anywho…enjoy!
1943
Duke Mitchell was born into a family of three. Mama, Papa and himself. They lived just outside of Fort Worth, Texas where the air was warm, and the fields were long, and the winter was cold.
As a child Duke loved to chase the dragonflies, climb the trees and savage what he could find in the fields.
And when the sun would set out over in the fields…Duke could sit there forever and watch as the sky changed colors from pink to gold, it never grew old. The longing, the feeling to be up in the air with the birds, to feel the wind in his hair and the warm rays of sun in his face.
It was like a friend, beckoning and asking him to join them. And one day, Duke hoped he would.
Sometimes, he and Papa would go hunting out in the fields. They would sit there in the trees for hours on end, and Papa would point out all sorts of stars and constellations. And Duke would always tell him, "I wanna be up in the air with them."
Then Papa would smile and say, "Son, never give up on something you can't stop thinking about."
As the years went on, Duke grew to love watching the jets that would fly over his home and he was always fascinated with the way that the jets seemed to slice through the air and just be…free.
That's what Duke wanted to feel. Freedom. Physically he was free, but mentally, he was stuck on the ground. His mind was trapped in the wanting to fly. And just…be. And finally, the opportunity came.
1961
Duke had joined the Military at 17, he had been there for one year now and he was close to being done with flight school.
Duke gazed at the picture in his hands for a few more seconds. It was a picture of him, Mama and Papa. He smiled lightly, fondly remembering his father, who had passed away a few years back.
"Jett!" a voice called out across the lawn, breaking his reverie.
Duke tore his gaze away from the picture, quickly shoving it in his pocket. "What?"
Andy "Angel" Heartly came running across the lawn, a newspaper flapping around in his hand, he panted as he sat down on the bench next to Duke, "Have ya heard?"
Duke frowned, looking over Angel's shoulder to see the paper, "No, heard what?"
"Kennedy's expanded the U.S. support for the South Vietnamese government, an' he's doubling the military's assistance for it." Andy smacked the paper with one hand, turning to face Duke, his cigar on the side of his mouth. "Ya know what this means?"
Duke shook his head, eyebrows raised.
"It means that the U.S. is preparing for war." Angel said gravely.
"What? That's crazy! This ain't our war." Duke frowned.
"Yep." Angel nodded, "But the President's actin' like it is. I mean, have you been reading the newspapers?"
"No, not really," Duke smiled, his blue eyes tracing to the sky.
Angel's eyebrows went up and a smirk played on his lips. "It's that Garret girl ain't it? Whas her name," he tapped his chin, "Blythe?"
"What? No!"
Andy wiggled his eyebrows, "Yes! And it's obvious you're both in love. When's you gonna go an' propose ta her?"
"Propo-? Angel, we're just friends." Duke said.
"Yeah, right." Angel snorted, "Anyway back to what I was saying, the boys are sayin' that we'll be finishing up here then supposedly sent off somewhere else."
Duke stood up, brushing himself off. "Huh. Interesting."
Angel stood up too, taking the cigar out of his mouth and throwing it into a trash bin. "You wanna go over to the bar?"
Duke brushed a hand through his brown hair, enjoying the small breeze. "Sure. But I'm not drinking anything."
Andy laughed, "An' whys that?"
"Cause Mama always was strongly against drinking." Duke answered.
Andy gazed at him. "Oh." Was all he said.
Duke laughed his face crinkling in delight, he clapped a hand on Andy's back. "Come on Angel. Let's go and see who's already there."
"Besides Blythe." Andy said.
Duke rolled his eyes, "Drop it already will you?"
"Never."