Which was a good thing because our squadron morale was pretty down. I called for a Roll Call at the end of the week to recognize the fallen and wounded. It can be a solemn affair but it’s usually done with plenty of alcohol to ease the pain of loss. I felt we deserved it. I made arrangements to hold it on the beach around a bonfire. Maintenance stacked up a pile of scrap wood and brush from the last few weeks and I had the hootch shack set us up a couple of kegs for the occasion. The master of ceremony for a Roll Call is called the Mayor. It’s usually a younger pilot and so I appointed Hank to be the Mayor. It was his job to keep the party moving and not let everyone get too rowdy or inebriated. Being so new to the service and this being his first Roll Call, I talked him through it before hand. Every fighter squadron has its own variant of Roll Call and the 389th was no different. It typically was held at the hooch shack, but I didn’t want anyone to happen by for this one.
