The gardens of the Achilleon

Squadron 540 was a squadron of a dozen 30-year-old something battle-hardened Canadian and British veteran pilots. They were the Canadians that reasoned 'war crimes for the fatherland'... the Brits that flew into the jaws of beasts with a smile on their face and a cigar in their mouth.

Hardened farmers, blacksmiths... people used to getting their hands dirty. It was only logical that this squadron rivalled Jasta 11 ever since the first whisper of the infamous flying circus was dropped on the side of the entente... they were the ones witnessing the wrath of the Red Baron first-hand.

And then there's Master Sergeant Montgomery Achillieus Armstrong... Sir Montgomery Achillieus Armstrong, the youngest son of Baronet Wilbur Caelen Armstrong, the owner of Armstrong incorporates, was a self-made noble who made it big by investing in dying businesses... an eighteen-year-old bourgeoisie noble that not at all fit in with these older proletarian pilots.

And what is it with him always running into the Red Baron? What is their history?

{This story includes time-accurate opinions, which may come over as misogynistic or homophobic, but as a female-bodied and queer writer I think it is very important to include these opinions in the story. If you can't handle historical accuracy then I'm sorry this book is simply not for you}