Friday, May 8, 2020

Unlucky Hit


3 comments:

  1. Ouch... bad day at work...

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  2. The other guy thought it was a damn lucky hit.

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  3. The brief 1945 poem, The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner:

    From my mother's sleep I fell into the State,
    And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
    Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,
    I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
    When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.

    God bless these men on the 75th anniversary of VE Day.

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