The Flight
It was a typical cool October morning in the English countryside, there was no breeze and an endless light mist seemed to rise from the earth like frost on a wintered window. There would be no flight for me today, it seems the riggers can't solve my rides ailments in time. I was on my way out to see my squad off, on yet another fighter sweep. My pace was slow, as I walked toward my vantage point, dragging my feet and hanging my head, in attempt to show my sadness in not being able to accompany my mates.
The boys were in their rides and ready to go. With a series of sudden explosions the morning quiet was shattered by the percussions of the Merlin engines, seemingly angry to be awakened. The sounds of the violent explosions from deep within the heart of steel were only matched by that of the airscrews ripping into the still October air. The beasts sprung to life.
With throttles slowly opening and gas pouring down it's throat, the metal steeds rushed down the runway, lifting into the open air, in sheer defiance of mother nature herself. One by one they fell into formation overhead, like a train linking together pulled by an invisible magnet, they slipped into the distant skies. There was a certain beauty to these machines as they seemed to float through the sky, the way one can admire a shark gliding through the water, before it bears it's teeth and shows it's angry side. Man and metal working so closely in unison, it could have been a serene symphony of motion, if it were not for their intended purpose.
The squad was nothing but dots on the horizon now, and their roaring engines were diluted by the increasing breeze. As the wind blew past my ears, I could hear the whisper that has engulfed so many warriors of days gone by, a sound that has been heard throughout history. Unlike the Samurais or gunslingers, these men of battle would be mounting a thousand horses...how far we've come, yet nothing has changed.
God speed valiant fliers, and for those that make it back, I'll see you soon...and those who succumb to the odds of battle,...I'll see you later.
Baron von Bumba
I wrote this in memory of all the fliers.
