The mess behind us was dark. The few sounds drifting in were muffled, blurred and often lost before we could hear them. All of us were anxious, waiting for the sound which would bring relief. Patches of light hung on the hangar doors around them. Beacons flashed across the sky to guide the bombers home.
A sound was heard that slowly grew louder and then faded; after what seemed long minutes it was heard once more, and then changed to a steady drone. The first plane landed on the tarmac and glided smoothly up towards us with its green and red lights flashing from the wing tips.
Inside the only sound was that of laughing men and happy voices. My mate and I served them eggs and bacon, and hot buttered toast with jam. Then someone asked, "Where is Jimmy?" and once again silence fell upon all. Even when they all went to bed they still listened; listened for the sound that never came. When morning came they were listening still. for Jimmy and his crew to come.