“Trevelyan, Sir” “Hayes, Sir” Major Stanhope nodded slowly, “Hour many hours flying time?” “Fifteen, Sir” “The same, Sir; fifteen” “Solo?”, asked Stanhope. “Two, Sir” Trevelyan lowered his eyes, “One, Sir” “One”, repeated Stanhope mechanically. He forced a weak smile, “Well, I’ve assigned you to ‘B’ Flight; Captain Osborne will look after you. See the orderly; he’ll show you to your billets and you can get unpacked.” The two subalterns saluted and left. When the door was closed, Stanhope slumped back in his chair. Sergeant Cranham whistled and pulled open a filing cabinet. Pulling out a bottle of Talisker, he poured out a generous glass for the major. “Getting younger, Sir. Do you think it’s worth getting them unpacked?” Stanhope drank pensively, “We ought to, Cranham”, he said after a while, “if only for the look of the thing”. * * * I’ve finally got all the painting and stands done for a Western Front campaign which I’ll be playing with my son, Henry. Today I received my new ma...