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"My name is Flight Lieutenant James of the RAAF," muttered Emily's grandpa from the corner of the room. He always said this as an opening to one of his war stories. Emily was still asleep and the blinds were open revealing the moonlight of an early morning. She wiped her blurred eyes, looking over at her nightstand. "Grandpa give it a rest, what time is it?" Her eyes fell upon a alarm clock waiting a moment for her eyes to focus, the time read; 2:15 AM. "Grandpa what are you-" The seat he sat in only moments ago was emptied. Emily thought nothing of it, believing her mind was still dreaming. She tugged the sheets up her shoulder falling back asleep on her soft pillow.

As soon as her eyes closed, her head was filled with the buzzing and roaring of an engine. Her eyes turned from the black darkness to a bright blue sky. She was in the cockpit of a Hawker Tempest, with the others in formations beside her, although she knew them... they felt familiar somehow, "Brett and King?" thought Emily, remembering one of her grandpa's boring war stories. Brett was the Squadron leader and King was the Pilot Officer her grandpa mouthed off about. Something was off, her hands were muscular and her breathing felt gruff... . Brett's voice boomed over the radio through the muffled sputters and buzzing of the engines "Red Leader to Red-One. James, you copy?" Instantly Emily's hand rose to the oxygen mask dangling off her helmet, pushing it against her mouth to speak into a microphone inside it. My grandpa's young voice shouted over the roaring engine of his plane. "Red-One to Red Leader, Go ahead Brett."

"Red-One. We got some Me-109's heading south east climbing up to our level. Lead right wing down and give them a scare. We'll be right behind you." Emily nodded looking over to his cockpit on the left giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up. Smoothly Emily pushed her foot against the right rudder, the plane started turning before flipping over into a roll and heading straight down to the Luftwaffe planes below. The right wing consisting of three other planes falling in wedge formation, heading straight to the Me-109s which intruded the airspace. Just as we closed in to the minimal range for our weapons to hit the Me-109s, they scrambled, "Damn, they saw us." The planes had split from formation and were scrambling. "Break!" Yelled Emily in her grandpa's voice and instantly the two planes with her broke the formation following a plane in their respective directions as she followed a Messerschmitt in front. As soon as she was close enough she squeezed the trigger. Beams of tracer incendiary rounds left the wing mounted machine guns leaving small fiery explosions on the German's left wing. The German pilot reacted quickly, jerking the joystick to the right. it proved to be a mistake as the aileron flicked to turn to the right, the speed breaking the wing off sending the pilot into a spin straight to the sea below.

Emily smiled as she scored her first aerial victory before Brett's panicked voice yelled over the radio, "Red leader down!" More bullets flew over Emily's head and throughout the sky as a flaming ball of what used to be Brett's tempest flew down into the sea. The velocity he was falling at almost dousing the flames. Eager to save her friend, Emily pushed the joystick down following the pilot gunning down Brett. The grey smoke emitting from Brett's aircraft dimmed as the fall extinguished the burning aircrafts flames allowing the engineless aircraft to drift as he pulled up, while simultaneously allowing Emily to line up another shot. She squeezed the trigger as the incendiary shells directly hit the engine of the 109 turning the cockpit into a live furnace of fire. Slowly and lifelessly the German slowly dived down towards the ocean.

Brett continued to yell the same line over and over again, although the voice wasn't coming from the radio. It was as if it was ingrained in her memory. The skies died down of gunfire and metal dinks. The five of us we started with reduced to two excluding King. Emily's stomach churned, unsure whether it was the rounds that put an end to the burning pilot or if it was the flames. Nobody liked putting others in agony, most of the pilots didn't. Some even carrying a pistol to put a bullet through their head instead of enduring the fate of being burned alive.

As Brett's lifeless plane slowly rested on the ocean and Emily was thrusted awake by her mother knocking at her door. "Emily? It's me... We need to talk." She slowly opened the door. Her eyes puffy and red from crying. Emily went pale and speechless, questioning what could have happened. Her back was stiff from not even being able to stretch yet. "Your grandpa died last night in his sleep... I'm sorry..." Emily's face drained of colour and she turned even more pale. Her dry throat managed to mutter "What time?" slowly looking up to her mother, trying not to burst into tears. "The paramedics say around 2:15 AM."