Johnston smiled, taking a sip of his own glass of wine. "Nearly twenty years, ago actually. Spads, Fokkers, and Sopwiths ruled the skies back then, and, well..." He paused, chuckling ruefully. "Even a junker with wings like the PR-1 would have been a very unpleasant surprise for the time."<br/><br/>He paused, straightening his tie fo a moment. "If you're interested, I could regale you with some tales of my own youth, though I doubt any of them are as daring or as brave as what you appear to face. But, in general, even back then there were, as the newsreels so aptly put it, 'heroes of the air'. The only question about who was the hero depended on the reel's country of origin."<br/><br/>Pausing as the meal was served, he nodded his appreciation towards the ship's cook, waiting for everyone else to be served before he touched his spoon to the minestrone. "I must admit, if I had known then what battle really meant, I'd have been somewhat less enthusiastic about volunteering within the conflict. My only regret now, is not being able to pilot a craft that makes my old Sopwith look much akin to riding a scooter next to a Rolls-Royce."