(continued)
T-Bolt left my tent visibly shaking after the dressing down he got from me. At least I thought it was from the reprimand, rumor has it he was in hysterics. Personally, I did not find his suprise of introducing our "Broadway Bomber" this late in the game as any where near funny. Rumor has it, I may have been alone in that view.
I could not find any way to describe the cloud of despair that hung over ASW as we finished our walk. T-Bolt was beside himself with laughter as I tried, in vain, to describe the torment.
"T," I pleaded " have some class, this kid is Crushed! For crying out loud, he walks into a coffee shop, has a mocha and is lamenting his woes to the first ear that leans his way. Going on about his dreams of being Lofted into the Clouds of success, being in the Spotlight with fans flocking to him from all sides, the fellow he was sobbing to had an easy mark, and took him in, and you find humor in this. You know those damndeble recruiters look for kids like this."
What I got, was further laughter. "T-Bolt, you should be ashamed of yourself. Here this kid buys the recruiters bit about ' sure kid, I can put you in the limelight, I can assure you, no less than 50 people will be seeking you out' and think's he is going to the show. He'll get a show alright, bet your seat warmer there will be 50 guys looking to find him!"
I looked in on ASW later that afternoon, just to make sure he would be ok.
"I'm good ROC.." he said, "I'm mad as hell, and I'm not gonna take it anymore!" "ASW," I replied, "they did that bit already, something about a TV News Anchor getting fed up, you gotta get ahold of yourself boy, there's no media here, no cameras, no script, this is the real thing, you gotta get in touch with reality, the truth of the matter is you are about to go into battle, for your life, there are no retakes here."
"Truth?.." He cried out "You can't handle the truth!!" and I promptly shot him in the foot.
Now, this is not something I am prone to do on a regular basis, but this kid needed slapped back into reality or he would get himself, or an entire wing shot to hell.
He bawled "What did you do that for?" to which I replied "when was the last time a script pulled pain from anything other than your heart? There is no script here, that was a pin salamander, would you like to know what it feels like to have that through your gut? There are people you will meet today that have every intention of letting you know this."
As the medic ran in, he looked at ASW, and to me, and frowned. He has seen this before. He get's incredibly pissed at me when it happens. He cannot argue the result though, as most of the boys who end up with my signature on their foot head for home with little else as a reminder of where they have been.
It grows late. There are several bomber pilots and gunners lying under the Bombers they will soon be joined with. It's close enough now, time to get their minds ready.
I walk over the napping boys, and for a moment, simply pause and second guess myself. This is a habit I need to break, and quickly brush away the hesitation.
Kicking the soil into the napping babes I yell " Get Up! Napping?? Sleeping?? Your souls have slept for thousands of years before this night, and there will be time to sleep when you are dead. Get Your Pathetic Brains Alive NOW!!"
In a hearbeat, the base erupts. There is movement and activity, and the sleepyness falls away, as they know I am right.
It's growing near. I hear reports that Command is on the way to the field, and Filth himself is with them.
"Good God" I sigh under my breath, "is it that big of a misssion?"
It was too loud. I knew this would be bad, but not this bad. over 75 Bombers were idling on the deck, fully loaded, each with enough ord to take out several city blocks. Fighters planes were manned with the best of the best. I don't know how they got them here on such short notice, but I have never seen the likes. We have Aces crawling out of the woodworks. Cripes what did Filth have in mind, ripping the mustache off of Hitler himself in downtown Berlin?? I had to walk, and pace, and get away from the road, the smoke, the smells.
I walked, and saw young fresh recruits laughing and worrying with the eldest of vets. If you closed your eyes you couldn't tell the difference, we all knew, instinctivly if not by experience, what today was. Our Broadway Bomber was there as well, in the middle, joining up as he could with people that were thrust into this as was he. I walked up, grinned at T for all of his effort to keep us sane, and placed him on my wing, as for all of his pomp and banter, there were few better to keep you alive and heading home. And I saw ASW, new, fresh, and having just been through a life changing experience, sold a bill of goods, and making the absolute best of it. "ASW" I said, within the entire group "You're with me."
If someone so new, so fresh, so tricked into entering this fray can be picked to be with the leaders of the lead, then what chance does the rest of the contingent have of surviving? This says, the chances are good. If we enter a fight knowing we will end our lives this day, we will work dilligently to make our visions come true. So I give them hope, choice, and life. This young star may very well make the center stage after this, and will take with him lessons no class or drama critique can ever offer.
God the noise is unbearable. We are center stage of an unimaginable thing. There is more metal in the air around us than seems physically possible.
The ack over that last refinery was unreal. I'm leaning out of the gunner positions trying for the life of me to keep track of the bombers, but there are so many, and so much smoke.
I turned over the lead to ASW, he is keeping a cool head, and I cannot keep track of the squadron and keep this bird flying at the same time.
I just pulled a piece of metal out of my arm. It was from Plinks plane ahead of me. He's not down...yet, but I don't know why it's still flying. There can't be anything holding it together other than sheer will. BRB, want to keep writing, but there's a bunch of 109s coming in.
It appears our target is a huge City deep in Axis territory. It's close now, but man we are deep. I don't think I've ever been this far behind enemy lines. If we get captured here, we are done for.
Cripes allmighty they have Jets! I've heard about them, saw a captured prototype fly, but had no idea they were in service, this is bad, really bad. They are getting shots off and are out of range damn near before I can spot them. Most of our gunners are dead, I've got spent shells littering the deck plates here. ASW is singing, he sucks, but he is singing and I'm just ok with that.
We are over the target, it is Huge. There are factories down there, many of them. I know this is a big one, as we approach the target and the bombadier is calibrating, I have my guns trained on no less than 6 enemy fighters. This is not good, not good at all, no time to write, but I have to keep logging this.
Bombers hit over 92%, this city is in flames, I don't know the name of the City, don't know of it's schools, houses or what, but I do know that cotton mills don't blow up as bad as those factories did, so we got something, and got something huge. As if the smoking pit below doesn't confirm this, we have more con's inbound than I can count to verify that we may have royally pissed someone off.
The smoke is too much, I can't see. I've crawled over, and slid through, every gunner spot on this plane. It's ASW and I. Upper gone, Ball is non existant, chin blown out, tail missing. There are some BBs left in right and left waist guns, but I may as well piss on them for all the good those will do. ASW is still singing, it's not good, his words are off. I move to the cabin.
The plane bucks and jerks, and I look out the left waist gun and we are missing a wing. I enter the cabin, ASW is listing to the left side, the windshield is blown out. It's bad in here. I can barely hear him. He is still singing. Some broadway tune I really don't know, but he sings. I tell him he made it, he's a star. He smiles, closes his eyes and smiles.
I'm going to stop writing now, I'm trying to find the chute. I couldn't wear it while I was running between the guns, far to awkward, but I think it's time I got ou
