In the bitter fight for the road, they'd worked almost as the limbs of one body; loading, aiming, firing in rhythm. She waited for the shouts; 'clear,...' 'clear, ' 'clear, ' the calls that each of the crew had performed their task and were clear of the recoil. A mistake could see a crewman hit as the gun leapt back upon firing. They had to rely on each man knowing their job. They proved that was the case, they were a good team.But their old gun was tired. Any gun has a service life, after which. She rubbed her fingers in the pomade, and fluff throughmy hair, then twist individual unruly strands into compliance.Gosh, I looked great!?What do you think Riki??I think my smile said it all but a small ?Wow? did escape my lips.?Have you thought about make-up for your big day Monday??Sharon asked. You?ll probably want to stay away from the brightreds with that hair color. Here, let me show you.?Sharon deftly applied powder, blush, lipstick and eye shadow tomy face. She was an artist. I. More

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