Suck It Up

Rumbling down several thousand feet of concrete in a heavy bomber loaded with bombs and gas has a man in a place of concentration. The procedures are set to memory, the feel of the machine........the feel of the machine is not unlike what he thinks of when he touches a woman. It reacts immediately to his touch, it can be obediant, or recoil depending on what he does. The weight of a b-24 against the controls was signficant until it was trimmed out. It would be virtually impossible to move her if she didnt want to be moved. In the case of this bomber Tom had to know when she would be at a place where she would take flight.

The total focus at the time of takeoff was nearly absolute. As soon as he was airborne though, Tom's mind drifted to the mission ahead. She was trimmed out for climb, and Jack was handling communication with the group to work out the sync up for formation flight. Tom would not show it, but he was nearly shaking. He wouldnt show it because they all had a job to do, and the guys would be scared enough on there own, if they thought he was afraid they would be so afraid they might not do their jobs, hesitate at a critical moment, and they all could pay the price.

Tom was almost swearing at himself. He was not a green pilot right out of flight school. He was now a seasoned veteran of dozens of combat flights. The briefing had only been slightly more negative about the resistance they would face. The stress seemed unbareable. What was going on! He thought my face must be betraying my thoughts. He was afraid to reach for a switch that jack might see his hand shaking. This is rediculous. Tom was not afraid, he tried telling himself.

Or was he? Through dozens of missions Tom had told himself, i'm doing the job. If i buy the farm, so be it, i will know i died for my country. But, what the....why the heck wasnt that working this time! Tom faced hell on many occasions, or so he thought. He thought, hey i'm doing my job for my country, its a valiant effort, right....., it was valiant right. Heroic even.

He was always able to shove the guilt of dropping bombs on people to the back of his mind. They frickin deserved it. They started this war. He knew the reports of thousands being killed in concentration camps. Bomb em to hell they would say in the ready room. He had no doubt the gerri's were goin to hell for startin this war....but Tom, he was a good guy.

Tom had seen it. He had seen a bomber hit by flack in a gas tank or the bomb bay go up like a roman candle. The guys inside he knew had only seconds of life left, if they werent dead already. Or worse, he had seen bombers auger in because of a complete collapse of the airframe. The bomber would turn violently, Tom knew that the G forces would pin the crew down in the crippled aircraft and they would ride consciously to their deaths after long seconds even minutes to the deck. Or worse yet, someone would broadcast an ill fated plea for help, or some last word a love note to a wife or a mother. Tom and the other guys would push that way back in their minds.

Young men would change to old men during their time in these bombers. Even though it was just a few years. They would never be the same. They would carry the losses with them. They would carry the death they had wrought and had received throughout their days. Tom was realizing this for the first time. He was not going to walk away from this the same man. He was not invinceable. Only by the grace of God did he come back . Only by the grace of God he thought.