It was a great life. Being part of a squadron was just like being part of a big family or more precisely, a clan. We did everything together. The guys...flew together, training and honing our combat skills, and itching to use them for real. We were a bunch of young, hard charging, aggressive, studs with egos so big that we each thought we were the best damn fighter pilot in the world. You had to be that way in our business. We had a saying: In the fighter business winning is the only thing;. The dog, as usual, leaped over the stairs before us and waited for us at the top. “So do we have a problem, then? It’s not like he was going to impregnate that dog.”Ann gave me the side eyes. “Yeah, right. We will have this conversation again when Baxter starts humping chairs, shoes and pillows.”As soon as I opened the door to my small studio apartment, Baxter ran towards the couch and laid belly up, wagging his tail and looking at us. Ann, as expected, walked towards him and gave his much. More

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