Davesmbox@aol.com wrote
>I could only imagine what
>those 19 year old kids thought 55 years ago as they were strapped in the
>same
>section of floor that I sat in as they went off to war.
Worried about whether they were ever coming home I imagine.
>From Randall Jarrell's 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.
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