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Berlin II After Peenemiinde, it looked as if we might slip through the rest of August unscathed and I was in a languorous mood. What I'd seen of Germany seemed sufficient to last for quite a while, although summer has always been the best time to make war, so maybe a tactical or two might well be used to round out a memorable season. But the little left ofAugust brought us to our boots very early one morning, so early that nothing good could come ofit, and when the curtain was drawn aside, it was Berlin, my mission twenty-two. The noise was to be expected, and Colonel Bowman stood there with a patient look on his handsome face. Finally he raised his hand just a bit to ask for quiet and it was granted, except that the bombardier's fox terrier barked and set us back a few happy seconds. People were always ready to lighten up for such moments, so the dog's comment was considered germane, and we hoped that he would make another . But Bowman, with a tolerant grin, reminded us that we really had to get back to the purpose ofour gathering. "Gentlemen," he began, "today we are going to give the Berliners the first installment on a double whammy." The choice of words sounded a bit odd from such a formal man. "Today the Eighth is going to put a thousand planes over Berlin, and tonight the RAF will do the same. You will use 50o-pounders, eight per ship, and 123 Return from Berlin drop them by intervalometer. This will be a maximum effort, and it's hoped that it will help the enemy to take stock ofhis hopeless position . Our P-5IS will be out on seek-and-destroy missions, trying to make your day a little less exciting. Good luck." Goddamn, we were back to that eye-for-an-eye stuff. How many civilians would our 613th, with Lewis at the bombsight, kill today? I hoped from my heart that they'd gotten all their skinny little kids out of town. Hammering and burning cities did not work against the English. Why was it expected to work against Europe's most disciplined , bull-headed, people? There would be exceptions of course, but Northhamptonshire's warm southwest August wind normally favored runway two-three for takeoffs. It was so long and smooth, in fact, that it was often the runway of choice even with a mild crosswind at gross load. Straight, at full throttle after liftoff and up out ofground effect-our war for the day begun-we would cross the boundary road and a rocky field, then pass over my beloved Landscape; and after a mile with remarkable regularity, begin our long climbing turn to the left using the Yokehill Farm house as an ample distanced point of radius, the wing tip seeming to point at it during the passage around a halfcircle , setting us on our compass heading of 50 degrees in line for the formation radio splasher at Kings Lynn. On this, or any such similar morning, Elizabeth must have awakened listening to us while clutching her knees tightly to her chin until the roar ofthe great birds had died away and she could hear the hall clock ticking. There would have been a quickening ofher heart during those many long minutes, but then the deep relieving sleep of childhood would return for a few hours until the normal sounds ofthe farm's own early morning would awaken her to a long, loosely arranged day. With minor course changes we used nearly the same route in and out as we had in June. The whole area was so saturated with flak positions that the most important decision was how to get in and out 124 Berlin II over the shortest land distance- that is, after we'd passed the relative emptiness of the North Sea, which that day was a deep gray-blue. We coasted in at Heide, or just south of it, on the SchleswigHolstein peninsula, and before we reached Neumlinster we were treated to the heartwarming sight of 5IS hell-bent for some rapidly scattering Me-lIas. There were two or three more flights of FW1905 , and altogether the opposition was impressive, but the Mustangs did make things tolerable. Of course they steered clear of the barrages, and so did the German fighters, and we took the expected pounding from the 88s and I05S. My thoughts...

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