7:30 PM
It was one way of seeing your new squadron, Captain Doubletree could definitely say that - walking into the "Welcome Dance" thrown by the little English town he'd just recently been transferred to. He'd barely been off the plane into the new base before they directed him to the get-together. The man knew none of his fellow officers, hadn't seen any of the men he would command, and had arrived at a field that wasn't even fully built yet.
He didn't know whether to be happy about that. However, a promotion was a promotion, despite the circumstances (in this case a field commission), and he'd keep his chin up and always hope for the best. He knew he did his job well, and perhaps it was a flipside to walk into a party only thinking of work, but Sam Doubletree was nothing if not a workaholic.
Captain Doubletree knew the song playing as he strolled on in slowly, keeping his hat on, as he definitely believed he looked so much more dashing with it on. You got more dance partners when you looked dashing - he knew that from experience. Then again, he always thought he looked "dashing," and just liked the word in general.
For the time being, however, he stayed close to the door of the old English meeting hall and watched the other men attempting to dance with their partners. Yep, he thought to himself as he wryly smirked, if their dancing is any clue, we've all got our work cut out for us.