Chapter Text
The Situation
September 1943, Vella La Cava.
VMF-214 has been ordered to provide continuous fighter cover for three olive-drab C-47s for the next two weeks. Officially it's a "routine transport and medical evacuation liaison." Unofficially, those Gooney Birds are flying Army nurses, blood, ammo and wounded Marines in and out of strips that are too hot for unescorted transports. And the pilots aren't happy?
Three planes, two women to a crew. They call themselves the Dairy Run, because nobody looks twice at milk run transports.
Chapter One: The New Kids
Boyington stared at the six women standing at attention in his briefing hut, all in sun-faded A-2 jackets and men's khakis cut down.
"Major Greg Boyington, VMF-214," he said. "You ladies lost?"
"No sir," Sam said, stepping forward with her orders. "WASP detachment attached to MAG-21 for forward transport and medevac. Three C-47s. We're your headache for fourteen days, Major."
Boyington read the orders, then looked up at Sam's sun-bleached hair and the way she held herself like a Marine's kid.
"Greene, huh? You got any time in a Gooney in a crosswind that wants to kill you?"
"Yes sir. And in a crosswind that already tried, sir."
A snort from behind him. Pappy was grinning.
Boyington handed the papers back. "Alright. Ground rules. You don't take off without my boys upstairs. You don't argue with my boys when they tell you to turn around. And you stay out of the officers' club unless invited."
"Understood, Major," Sam said, a little too quickly, and Elenor, standing just behind her right shoulder, pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.
Later, after the 214 had scattered, Gutterman leaned over to Boyington.
"Six WASP girls flying Gooneys into Bougainville? That's a first."
"That's a court-martial waiting to happen," Boyington muttered, but he was watching Sam show Lucy how to tie down a cargo net with a Marine Corps knot that only a general's daughter would know.
Elenor caught his look and whispered to Sam, "You're staring."
"I'm assessing the commanding officer," Sam whispered back.
"Uh-huh. Assess a little less with your eyes, Greene."
Across the strip, Gooney Two and Three were being loaded, and Anne was already quietly checking Lucy's harness twice, while Lily was lining up plasma bottles like they were eggs, and Sheryl was arguing with Anderson about weight distribution before they'd even said hello properly.