𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐩𝐞 - j.egan [masters of the air]

∣ 016; r o u t e s

(warning: implications to sexual violence)

. *. ⋆

The beginning months at Stalag Luft I were grueling. They were painful, mentally and physically, and Eloise's body always ached horribly.

That didn't mean she was tortured, however— well, not the way one would call torture.

The boys were treated humanely enough, Eloise supposed— they weren't beaten on the daily, or tortured for hours on end. They could have been treated worse, and though they weren't getting different meals every day— their meals consisted of turnips and potatoes— Eloise knew the men would rather eat that than nothing at all.

They were also given basic hygiene. They could read books and listen to music to cure their intense boredom. Still, that was never enough.

All any of them wanted was to go home.

Eloise had already been at the prisoner-of-war camp for nearly six months— it was the beginning of March 1944, snow still falling and leaving the ground a pretty white, a complete contrast to the horrible environment the camp provided.

She was standing in line for water with Heath and other soldiers. The soldiers closest to Eloise and Heath, standing right beside them, being Eloise's old friends from the 305th bomb group.

When she caught sight of the men in October— minutes after her arrival— she had been ecstatic upon seeing them. Not because of the terms they reunited, but because she swore she'd never see her old friends again. That and the fact she hadn't spotted them beforehand.

They had been just as excited as her, the three men from the 305th calling her name excitedly over the loudness of the crowd, instantly catching her attention— she was the only woman there and Eloise was positive there weren't any men with her name.

Her body had turned, her eyes searching the crowd of men behind the barbed wire fence— her eyes caught sight of Walter Simmons, a well-known pilot of the 305th with whom Eloise had grown friends quickly upon her arrival at the base.

She assumed she'd never see the men again, yet here she was.

She had called their names loudly, her hand gripping tighter on Heath's— she watched as the three men jumped behind the crowd like over-excited dogs, waving to her and calling her name, huge grins on their faces as they pushed on one another to somehow get higher, as to see if Eloise was truly there.

When she finally got to see the men again— without the barbed wire keeping them from each other— Walter was the first to pull Eloise into a tight hug, the grin on his face contagious as he patted her on the back.

Walter always tended to treat Eloise as if she were his younger sister— or brother, for that fact, given the number of times he'd pull Eloise into a headlock just for the fun of it.

He'd mess with her, piss her off more times than she could count, and would always ask for advice on what to send his girlfriend back home.

"Glad to see you're still livin'!" He exclaimed. "Did ya' do any good at the 100th?"

Eloise shrugged, "I'd like to think so."

"Ha," Louis Brown— co-pilot to Walter— nodded, smiling wide as he spoke, "You're just being modest, like always. I bet they loved you there."

Eloise hummed, looking to Heath, who was standing behind her, "Yeah, a few of the guys did— this is Heath. He was with me when I transferred and when we went down."

Walter nodded, extending a hand to shake with Heath as Louis and Andrew Bernard— one of the shooters on Walter's crew— did the same.

"So, how'd you go down anyway? When?" Andrew asked, looking behind Eloise. "Anyone else with you?"