All was not well there when they arrived, those who were fortunate to make it. No real arrangements were made to house the air crews nor to service the planes. "Strangely enough," Crosby recalls, "my worst memories are not of the incessant beating that the 100th took; instead I remember an incident that happened while we were in North Africa. The mission was so fouled up with poor coordination between the 8th and 12th Air Forces that when we got to North Africa (at Berteaux and Telegerma), the only detachments that were there were a finance corps and some postal clerks. As a result, someone pumped 2780 gallons of kerosene into our B-17 wing tanks thinking it was high-test gasoline. We had to pump a hand apparatus for about fifty-six straight hours before we finally got the kerosene out of our tanks."
— an excerpt from Edward Jablonski’s 1965 book titled Flying Fortress : the illustrated biography of the B-17s and the men who flew them
This is the end... I'm going now I bid you all a very fond farewell
You still have an epilogue! But it’s DONE! You did it, you made it and I’m on my knees thanking all of you for going in this journey with me😭😭❤️🧎🏻♀️
If you want on or off the tag train for any updates regarding this or other projects down the line just LMK ... @iftheshoef1tz @born-to-riot @pathfinderofnight @fell-in-luvs @fieldofdaisiies @aktrain @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @pippsmcgee
To everyone who read, liked, commented. You are so kind and ILY.
To all the encouragement I have received to get this done from a needy gremlin or two TYSM... special mentions on this front of course my sweet @acourtofladydeath , @born-to-riot AND...
... To @pippsmcgee - I wish I could say I planned this to post the last chapter on your birthday but alas I'm not that coordinated. When I realized I could though, I went for it. Happy Birthday and thank you for all that you do and continue to do for me.
Azriel watched the door for a long time, gathering his thoughts and his strength before turning slowly to survey himself in the mirror one last time. He smiled at his reflection, something he couldn’t ever remember doing in the five centuries he had been alive. Staring back at him was a stranger, someone he wanted to know, wanted to be, but completely foreign to him. Even his wings were draped in ceremony, metallic flakes dusting the membranes, talons gleaming, having been freshly polished, only the shadows remained the same. They rose up and above him before draping over him like a blanket, dispersing into strips and wrapping around his neck and wrists. Playing, he realized. They were relaxed and being … playful. Maybe they had changed a little too.
Me… I’m gunna make them wait so I can breathe … also me.. fuck it we ball
If you saw this post before this edit, no you didn’t… I changed my mind
He was going to kill him. If Azriel survived this, Eris was going to string him up and cut him into tiny little pieces
If you want on or off the tag train just holla at ya boi ... @iftheshoef1tz @born-to-riot @pathfinderofnight @acourtofladydeath @fell-in-luvs @fieldofdaisiies @aktrain @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @pippsmcgee @secret-third-thing