Air Force the Official Service Journal - Air Force Historical Studies ...

HE Fortresses
T wings to the
took off in the late afternoon, and flew by
west of England and turned south. Out of
sigh t to the northeast, there was fighting on the beaches,
and many dead men lay in the surf. But the Forts were
high above all that. Since the first day, the 6th of June,
their job had been easy.
Today the target was an airfield on the Brest Peninsula,
not so far from Loricnt, where the Forts used to go in the
old days. He flew it when it was his turn, and watched the
sun slide clown through the soft blue toward the sea. \ Vhcn
it was time to bomb, the field was already a smoky mess
from the wings up ahead.
The flak started just after bombs away. The first four
puffs were just outside the window. He could sec the dull
flash as the shells burst. The formation leader banked
steeply right. The flak tracked along easilv.
There was an ugly clank undcrnca tl~ somewhere, He
knew they were hit. Engines OK. Instruments reading true.
Everything OK. The helpless fear of those soft black puffs
tightened inside him. It was always the same. Nothing
to do but sit there and pray the luck holds. And thcn they
were out of it, turning toward home. "Ball-turret to pilot,"
came over interphone. "We got holes in the gut."
Once you're out of it, flak never seems quite real, till
the next time. The formations churn through the quiet sky,
and the earth is a million miles low.
The formations let down into the darkening cast. lIe
leaned forward, waiting for England.
England. IIe said it in his mind, and then slow in his
mouth, without moving his lips.
\Vhen he was eight years old he read Robin Hood the
first time. After that he must have read it twcntv more.
Sherwood Forest and Nottingham town in the ~la\'s of
Richard of the Lion Heart. He'd dreamed of it 'then,
waiting for the day when he would stand at the rail of a
ship \\'aiting for l