Waiting for the Jasta to Return Memory

I am looking at the ground at my feet. I'm standing on short grass that is mixed with green and gold. My boots are black and lace up with shin guards like in the photos. I can't tell what my pants look like. Brown? I'm wearing a heavy leather coat, the one in many of the photos. I look up and the sky is clear and it is the afternoon. I'm at one of the airfields. I'm waiting for one of the Jastas to return from a flight. I'm expecting six planes to return. It's cool out. The planes come in. I'm standing not far from the airfield facing southwest. There is a grove of trees on the other side of the airfield. It is early Fall.

I see the first plane come in and land. They come in from my left and land going to my right. The second and third planes come in close together and somewhat haphazardly. The third lands a little roughly, which makes me grimace a little. The next three come in close also. After the last one touches down I walk across the field into the dirt and to the hangars where the planes have been parked close to. I'm close enough to see the pilots out of their planes and others getting out. I'm expecting to hear something. It all seems very informal though what I'm expecting to hear is official. They seem to be disappointed, and I'm not surprised. Today has had little in event wise happen.

I walk with them and we discuss something. I assume we discuss the details of the flight. Somebody says something that make me laugh. I walk back to a building. I remember having to walk up a slight incline. Between walking up to the building and waiting for the planes, 2 1/2 hours have gone by. The sun has changed position greatly.