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" princess and the wild crusader... never too shy for a mission of discovery " A STRING OF PEARLS — glenn miller
// THE WIND WAS HARSH, slapping against faraway trees, metals colliding and smashing with an unapologetic bang that left ringing in the ears. The spinners of the plane being the main cause.
Evelyn walked away from the plane, her midnight brown hair dancing in the wind. Her outfit caught the attention of many men that were stood outside the plane. Evelyn's slim body was adorned with navy pants and a matching shirt; which was not the typical outfit for a woman.
Many nurses had skirts and heels, while Evelyn wore flats. Being a flight nurse, it was almost impossible to move around the plane in a tight skirt.
"Pants?" One of the men that had been on the bomber plane whispered to another man. His eyes dancing across Evelyn's form as she got closer.
The man beside also had his eyes pinned to the woman, "Never seen it before, you?"
"Nah, never." He shook his head, tilting his head slightly.
Evelyn stood face-to-face to both men, her expression showing no emotion, her plump cherry lips formed into a line, gazing through her army green eyes, "You boys new as well?" She questioned, besides the men she had flown to Thorpe Abbotts with, she hadn't met anyone yet.
"Yes, ma'am." They answered at the same time, almost stuttering with nerves as the unknown beautiful woman stood before them, her eyes fixated on both, giving them her full attention. Almost like she knew how much of an effect she had on them.
"Evelyn Thompson. Flight nurse." Evelyn stuck out her hand in greeting, the men's eyes were wide when they finally comprehended what she said.
"1st lieutenant Roger Lawrence, and I must say, a flight nurse? That is quite impressive." Roger, the man on the left shook her hand first, surprised by the strong grip she held to his hand.
"Thank you." Evelyn sent a smile smile, only a twitch of her lips but it was enough to elicit a smile out of the men.
The man to the right stepped closer, taking her hand in his and shaking it, also surprised by the grip but kept it hidden as much as he could, "2nd lieutenant Arthur Paterson, ma'am. If it's alright, how many missions have you been on?" He asked, being polite in his questioning, not yet knowing the traumas of being in the bomber plane.
