This is my
second attempt at aviation fiction. It’s much shorter
and quite different from the first,
“Hello, Columbus”, which ran to five
chapters. This tale is all in one piece and is, I hope,
short enough to be digested in a single sitting.
Also unlike the first story,
"Waypoint" has no genesis in my
flight simulator experiences. I can promise, however,
that we haven’t seen the last of Boxwings Air Freight.
I’m not done with them yet and I feel certain they will
appear in future writings. This piece is different in
content and setting. It takes place in a time that I’ve
always had a great interest in – the war years, the
first half of the 1940s. I’ve tried to capture just a
glimpse of what that must have been like.
It was a time of hardship and a time of contrasts; a
time of heroes and of those who thanklessly made their
heroism possible. Even here in the US, there were deep
shortages of important commodities so that the forces of
good could have them in the required quantities. There
was great disruption of what had been routine day to day
activities in former times and the unwanted absence of a
great many people, many permanently. Overlying it all
was tension, worry and an uncertainty of the outcome –
but also a universal determination to contribute and to
succeed in the common effort that hasn’t been equalled
since. A contemporary author has referred to those
people as, “The Greatest Generation”. I believe he got
it right – they were.
I was born a little too late to have been of that
period, but grew up in the immediate post-war years,
steeped in the aftermath. I don’t have many regrets in
life, but I’m just a little bit saddened to not have
been able to live that first hand, and to have been a
part of that great generation. They did us proud and we
should be humbly appreciative of their individual
efforts and their collective accomplishment. If not for
them, the world today would be a very different place,
and not for the better.
So, I’d like to offer a dedication of this work to the
people of that generation, those who served and those
thanks is due to my protégé, the famous Mutley, of
Mutley’s Hangar. He’s been the illustrator, editor,
publisher, constructive critic, executive producer and
even mentor of my writing efforts and has contributed
much in both effort and creativity. I don’t have the
words to thank him properly, but I think he knows how
much I appreciate what he does.
Like many things, writing is fuelled by feedback, my
writing no less than anyone else’s. However you feel
about this piece, I would very much appreciate hearing
from you. Your encouragement drives me to create more
and your constructive comments help make the next effort
better. If you make it to the end of this story and have
the time and inclination, please take a moment to let me
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