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He hugged his mother, and firmly shook hands with his father. "Don't forget to write", his mother said in between the tears.
"Don't worry I will."
"Now Ryan make us proud and win the war." his father said, as usual making jokes at sad or tense moments.
Ryan gave his family a military salute, grabbed his bags and headed towards the plane. He looked back at his hometown, wondering when he'll see it again, and dated in his journal: September 12th, 1942. Heading towards Welford, England from Virginia.
After getting off the plane, Ryan met some of his buddies from boot camp; George and Matt. George was from up north, a tall, lean man, with black hair, he wore glasses that magnified his brown eyes, and was probably the smartest out of the whole camp. Matt was a southern boy, stocky, built, light brown hair, with green eyes. He was a ladies man, and he accepted the challenge of being in a foreign country, with foreign women. And with Ryan he evened them out, from Virginia, he was shorter than George, but taller than Matt. He had brown hair and gorgeous blue eyes, he wasn't the smartest, but graduated almost top of his class, he wasn't built like Matt, but he could hold out if ever gotten in a fight. During boot camp, the three gotten along because of Ryan, he was the neutral side of the arguments between a Yankee, and a southern boy.
As the three greeted each other, they all headed to the center of the reserve camp, just as the Lt. General called for the attention of soldiers. In a British accent the Lt. spoke " Ello mates, most of you won't see any action, but that doesn't mean you're going to lay hear like a bunch of lard asses. No think of this place as your Second Boot camp." Groans rumbled through everyone's throats. "I know you are all excited, because it’s going to be so much fun," the Lt. called, "But at least tonight, you will all get a break because the good people here are throwing you all a dance. Now go find dates, and not just you and your hand." The Lt. chuckled at his own joke, while everyone dispersed.
Ryan, George, and Matt left the camp to explore the town, and find dates. Ryan gazed around in this unfamiliar place, and was awed; none of it looked like his hometown. His thoughts were interrupted by the argument between Matt and George; "Who wouldn't want to be with a southern gentlemen?"
"I don't see any gentlemen here other than me."
No one wants to be with a Yankee boy, all any foreign people hear about is the South."
The two continued arguing until Ryan butted in; "What about me don't you think these ladies would want me too?"
"Fine Virginia boy, tell us your way of getting a lady." Matt said as he crossed his arms and waited for Ryan to apply. Ryan thought for a moment and said; "Okay, you see that café over there, when we enter the first woman I see, I'll ask her out and she'll say yes."
"Fine you got yourself a deal." Matt and Ryan shook hands, and all three crossed the street to the café.
Once all the three entered the café, Ryan glanced up and saw an elderly lady at the cash register. Before he can protest, Matt said, "So there's the lucky lady." Ryan punched him in the gut and replied, "You ass."
Good luck", said George trying not to burst out laughing, as he and Matt sat in a booth. Ryan coughed up the courage and went to the register.
He cleared his throat and said, "Hi"
"Hello", replied the woman, she was well into her late sixties maybe early seventies. She was wearing the uniform of the café, a baby blue shirt and skirt with a white apron that read; Welcome to Wally's.
