I enjoy reading about history, in particular about the Pacific theater of WW2, and I'm assuming that a bunch of folks that play WW2 fighter pilot for fun have at least a passing interest in the subject as well.
Every once in a while I come across a piece of writing that is particularly well-done. In this case, I think the author brilliantly conveyed the feeling of what it must be like for a young boy really, having graduated the equivalent of our Annapolis, having spent his entire life striving to excel at his schoolwork to become a pilot, and then, having been trained to be an expert pilot in his nation's military, is told,
"Welcome to the war. You're first mission is going to be to strap a 500kg bomb to this plane and crash it into the biggest ship you see."
One has to wonder what it must be like to be sitting on the flight line, seeing the clouds and weather clearing out, knowing that at any moment the orders that will send you to commit voluntary suicide will be coming over the loudspeaker.
This passage, in particular, really hit me in the gut.
I thought maybe others, with an interest in the period, might find it interesting as well.
I don't see the analogy to nazi death camps and marshmellow roasts, but whatever.
Adios,
Toonces
Oh, I didn't just bang their girlfriend...I drank their beer too. It was good.
