“That’s right,” he replied, extending a smile and his hand. “Thomas Bishop, though my friends call me ‘Bish’. You can call me whatever you like. And whom do I have the privilege?” he asked.<br/><br/>Once pleasantries had been exchanged he led her to up the road to one of his favorite pubs. While walking he asked her, "So, which unit do you serve with? Do you fly?"<br/><br/>As she replied he retrieved his cigarette case and opened it. Inside the silver, wallet-sized contraption was a number of cheaply made cigarettes and bits of loose tobacco, which he offered to her.<br/><br/>The public house that he led her to, The Red Lion, was an old one. Once white-washed with a red trim, thanks to the London Fog the half-timbered building now looked more gray than white. Through the closed, blacked-out windows Bish could hear that the place was packed. The noise within wafted down the road towards them with the smells of roasting sausages and smoke. A grime-covered sign beside the door explained that neither animals nor Axis troops were allowed inside. Bish pushed open the heavy oaken door and held it for her.<br/><br/>Inside the noise of a dozen loud conversations, as well as shouting from the dart board area and calls for drinks created a cacophony of sound. The boisterous crowd consisted of RAF from the nearby airbase; some British soldiers and sailors on leave; young, local women they were wooing; old men reading papers and the occasional middle-aged fireman hiding in the corners, hoping not to be caught away from the station. Each held a glass and most of them were smoking, which contributed to the dense pall that hung in the air. The smoke was so thick it was hard to see the timbers overhead.<br/><br/>“Low ceiling tonight,” Bish said, cracking a joke that other pilots would understand about low hanging clouds. “So what are you drinking?” he asked as he led the way to the bar.<br/><br/>Once they had their glasses, Bish moved over towards an open table and pulled out her chair. Once seated, he sat down across from her and took a long pull of his warm lager.<br/><br/>“So, did you say there was something that I could help you with?” he asked with a pleasant expression.