The Pickle Barrel

The barkeep moved around the place with a well worn bomber jacket. Polish was applied to all the countertops and other wooden furniture. All furniture was rubbed down to a shine and ready for use. The barkeep moved to the walls where photos of pilots, past and present, were hung. Upturned shot glasses stood on a shelf of those who had fallen to enemy fire.

Taking a last look around and ensuring that everything was ready, the barkeep opened the door.

Belly up to the bar, boys. The Officer's Club is now open.

Tbar strolls in with no care in the world.. and take seat.. snaps his fingers at the Barkeep.. "Root Beer please !"

Land Hoy....

Having disembarked from the Randolph the RN Hellcat Pilot wanders into the Bar... Ahhh Barman, a triple rum if you would. Nice jacket. TBar, fancy seeing you here... Barman, another Root Beer for my freind and a pint of your finest warm ale for me please...

Gos