Cairo III
"Sure thing sport." Says Chalky, sipping his beer. "You'll 'ave to come out to the aerodrome next week if you get a chance, I'm about to change the big end bearings on the Liberty 400 Matt got us. She's sweeter than a shearer's daughter."
He took a long drag on his cigarette and looked at the mirror behind the bar. The image that looked back at him was of a middle aged man, short and stocky, with a smiling face and cheerful blue eyes. He was wearing a cotton suit and had his hair fashionably slicked back. The hand holding the beer had scarred knuckles from stubborn engine bolts, bar room brawls and was tanned from the desert sun. He was relaxed and sublimely indifferent to social class. He had another sip.
He grinned at the German, no animus at all in their conversation. The shared experiences of The Great War bound them all, willing or not, with ties stronger than steel. If one of them felt jittery the others just let it slide.
He had no idea he was about to experience another hell.