Some Day I'd Like To Cover A

About Every Two Minutes A New Wave Of Planes Would Be Over. The Motors Seemed To Grind Rather Than Roar, And To Have An Angry Pulsation Like A Bee Buzzing In Blind Fury.

I Try Not To Take Any Foolish Chances, But There's Just No Way To Play It Completely Safe And Still Do Your Job.

In Their Eyes As They Pass Is Not Hatred, Not Excitement, Not Despair, Not The Tonic Of Their Victory - There Is Just The Simple Expression Of Being Here As Though They Had Been Here Doing This Forever, And Nothing Else.

Someday When Peace Has Returned To This Odd World I Want To Come To London Again And Stand On A Certain Balcony On A Moonlit Night And Look Down Upon The Peaceful Silver Curve Of The Thames With Its Dark Bridges.

Our Artillery... The Germans Feared It Almost More Than Anything We Had.