We were down to about 500 feet and when we pulled up I saw the plane
in front of me blow up and I flew right through the pieces. I don't
remember the pilots name, but recall seeing something yellow go by me
and thinking it was the yellow "Mae West" life vast we all wore.
Anti-aircraft fire must have hit his tanks. I was flying with Bruce
and when we got back to the field he found several bullet holes in
his plane. Several times when we flew together he got bullet holes,
but I never did get hit. When going on a mission we would start our
planes and taxi out onto the runway. You taxied by zigzagging because
the nose of the plane was up while on the ground and you couldn't see
directly in front of you. We took off by twos with the second plane
at the side and slightly behind the other. The second plane watched
the lead plane only and kept the same distance from him. You didn't
look at the instruments on the runway, just the other plane. Sounds
hard now, but it was easy once you got used to it. We would then
climb by twos until reaching a specific altitude, circle until
everyone was in formation, then we would head for Europe. Sometimes
when it was cloudy you were forced to climb on instruments only until
getting above the clouds, anywhere up to 30,000 feet. The sun would
be shining there and the clouds as white as new snow. It gave one the
feeling that you were just above the earth and could step out and
walk on top of the clouds.
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