The airlift was entering its second month when Victor was called to his commanding officer. He rolled up the blueprints he was working on, stuffing them back into their cardboard tube. A glimmer of hope filled his chest as he considered that maybe this time he was being called to sign his demobilization paperwork and not for another stupid and petty assignment. He’d become fed up with the Rhein-Mud airport, his asshole CO, and the utter poverty all around him, and longed to returned stateside.
“Sir.” Victor entered and much to his surprise, found along with his CO Colonel Dassel an unknown general sitting at the small conference table. He saluted and stood at attention.
“Sergeant Richards?” the general asked.
“Yes, sir. That’s me.”
“Please sit. I’m General Tunner.”
William Tunner? The
