Post by callmedelta on Sept 17, 2022 0:31:37 GMT -5
Fort Vanier, eastern Franerre
Air Marshal Yvon C. Leclere stared out the window into the cold overcast winter avenue, waiting for the train from Alcasse to arrive. It hadn't snowed yet, thankfully, but he still didn't envy the men working out in the frigid temperatures. If they were the Fort's normal garrison of professional soldiers, at least they would have signed up for the job, but the division normally staffed here had been sent south, replaced by conscripts. If it got much colder, Leclere would see if he could get some mercy for those poor souls out of Major General Cortot. The Air Marshal may have technically outranked the man, but this fort was still the Major General's. He took a sip of the warm tea from his mug and let the heat diffuse throughout his body. Yvon hoped the weather wouldn't impact training for the pilots at all. The temperature left much to be desired, but at the very least it was a mostly windless day.
"Air Marshal Lecere, sir!" Airman Guy Remy said as the Air Marshal turned to face him. As the most experienced Franerri pilot who'd ever lived by this point, Guy was the closest thing Yvon had to a second-in-command in this still evolving structure that was the Corps Expérimental de l'Aviation Royale de l'Armée Franerre (Experimental Royal Franerri Army Aviation Corp/CEARAF). The newest branch of the Royal Franerri Army, CEARAF would be the organization tasks with managing all aspects of Franerre's military aviation, the entire might of which was supposed to be arriving any minute now after a long voyage from Lusatia.
"What is it, airman?" Yvon asked, taking another sip of the tea. He still wasn't sure whether 'airman' or 'soldier' would be the proper way to address someone in the CEARAF, as they were still a part of the Army, but that was a matter of splitting hairs.
"Well, uhh, the others and I were wondering if we could fly in this weather," Guy said, "With the clouds like this, who knows what the winds will be like up in the skies? No one has flown in weather like this before." That definitely boded well.
"We'll wait for the Lusatian's decision. I'm not going to offend anyone here by saying the Lusatians are much more knowledgeable about the subject than us. Speaking of which, where is that damned train?" A loud train whistle rang out as if to answer the Air Marshal's question, the train slowly rolling into the Fort's station.
Air Marshal Yvon C. Leclere stared out the window into the cold overcast winter avenue, waiting for the train from Alcasse to arrive. It hadn't snowed yet, thankfully, but he still didn't envy the men working out in the frigid temperatures. If they were the Fort's normal garrison of professional soldiers, at least they would have signed up for the job, but the division normally staffed here had been sent south, replaced by conscripts. If it got much colder, Leclere would see if he could get some mercy for those poor souls out of Major General Cortot. The Air Marshal may have technically outranked the man, but this fort was still the Major General's. He took a sip of the warm tea from his mug and let the heat diffuse throughout his body. Yvon hoped the weather wouldn't impact training for the pilots at all. The temperature left much to be desired, but at the very least it was a mostly windless day.
"Air Marshal Lecere, sir!" Airman Guy Remy said as the Air Marshal turned to face him. As the most experienced Franerri pilot who'd ever lived by this point, Guy was the closest thing Yvon had to a second-in-command in this still evolving structure that was the Corps Expérimental de l'Aviation Royale de l'Armée Franerre (Experimental Royal Franerri Army Aviation Corp/CEARAF). The newest branch of the Royal Franerri Army, CEARAF would be the organization tasks with managing all aspects of Franerre's military aviation, the entire might of which was supposed to be arriving any minute now after a long voyage from Lusatia.
"What is it, airman?" Yvon asked, taking another sip of the tea. He still wasn't sure whether 'airman' or 'soldier' would be the proper way to address someone in the CEARAF, as they were still a part of the Army, but that was a matter of splitting hairs.
"Well, uhh, the others and I were wondering if we could fly in this weather," Guy said, "With the clouds like this, who knows what the winds will be like up in the skies? No one has flown in weather like this before." That definitely boded well.
"We'll wait for the Lusatian's decision. I'm not going to offend anyone here by saying the Lusatians are much more knowledgeable about the subject than us. Speaking of which, where is that damned train?" A loud train whistle rang out as if to answer the Air Marshal's question, the train slowly rolling into the Fort's station.