It was 0700 hours when orders came down: After nightfall, we’d be bombing the enemy hydrants east of Wang Chung — over 60 miles into enemy territory.
I took one last look across the airfield. A lot of good men would be on this raid — men with wives, men with puppies. Some of them wouldn’t be coming back. It’s a fact every flyboy faces in Wawa Squadron. Death isn’t just your destiny, he’s your friend — the face in the mirror every morning, the hands tucking you in every night.
I could hear the great engines whining as they turned over. It was time to go. Doris stirred softly as I brushed her cheek. “Don’t wait up for me, honey,” I murmured.
Photos by Toronja Azul.