12
Glenn
Glenn got up from his bunk, tiredly rubbing his eyes. Once again, he’d barely slept all night, because flight crews had been coming and going constantly throughout the night. Most of the men tried to be quiet, but a dozen men walking into the barracks with their heavy boots, getting ready to sleep, was about as quiet as a herd of cows storming the place.
He envied those fresh and young men who could sleep through anything, since he’d lost this talent many years ago, during the war. As much as he loved the cowboy operation the airlift was, where he never knew what he’d be doing the next day, nor what schedule he’d be working on, or which aircraft he would be flying, he hated the fact that after a hard day’s work, he didn’t even know where to sleep.
Brigadier General John Smith,
