[b]Officer’s Mess, Tofrek Barracks East, Hildesheim

November 10th, 1983[/b]

Jon was sat on his own in the mess bar. His sky-blue beret was on the table in front of him, and a steaming mug of very black coffee was next to it. He was wearing a DPM flight jacket over his flightsuit in a bid to keep out some of the chill; although in some ways he was used to it. Winter in Germany seemed a lot less severe compared to winter in the Falklands, after all. It was also a lot less boring; at least sitting around in Stanley there was still the sense that the Argies might be coming back over the horizon at any moment.

In Saxony, however, there wasn’t as much tension. The Russians had been quiet and the NVA just sat at the border glaring from atop rusting tanks.

With a heavy sigh, Jon drained his coffee, picked up his beret and straightened the belt his Browning was holstered on as he stood up and looked out towards the flightline.