If I thought I could get away with being mindlessly plastered in French night clubs for 3 weeks between patrols in RL without a peep from the g/f, I could go for that!
I can imagine the phone call to work though...
S5: Hi (croak)...I won't make it in today...
Boss: Are you ill?
S5: Not so much that: I had a serious divebombing in the bay of Biscay last night on the way back to Lorient and me and some of the lads have been getting drunk to relieve the stress...
Boss: You're fired!
S5: You aren't my real boss anyway, Doenitz is my REAL boss!
Boss: You're fired AND barking mad!
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