Throwing everything they have in the air from all their other fields, the Huns fill the sky between us and our home by the time we start for out lines.
Dropping down to a thousand feet above our last two bombers, we are in a position to see anyone attacking and set quick, if necessary. Our flight is in perfect formation, when a flight of Huns splits up and attacks from different direction. This is ideal for us, as we simply nestle down close to our lonesome bombers and pick the Hun off when they come in,.....
Copyright Frederick Libby. For permission to reprint this excerpt please contact horsesdon'tfly.com
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All The Gallant Men
The first memoir by a USS Arizona survivor, 75 years after Pearl Harbor.
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