...our Poem of the Day:
[size=4]The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner[/size=4]
by Randall Jarrell

From my mother's sleep I fell into the State,
And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from the dream of life,
I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.

Eric The(AlwaysBeenMyFavorite!)Hun[>]:)]

Now, aren't you glad I posted that! [>]:)]

Very.  Makes me wish I was a tail gunner...

Eric:

Probably my all time favorite poem (not that I’m much into poems).

The dead ball turret gunner is simply discarded like a used oil filter – a cold, hard reality of war.

Being small statured, I always figured if I were a B-17 gunner that’s where they’d have put me.  Good view, though!

If I recall correctly, tail gunners had the highest mortality rate.

A Shakespeare snippet Henry V, I think):

There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which taken at the flood leads on to fortune.
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and miseries.

"Statistically the safest place on the plane was inside the ball turret.

Tell that to the guy who was stuck in it for a wheels up landing due to the same flak hit that disabled the turret.

Gives me the shakes.

One of my favorite poems too.  Some interesting things to note is the relation to the turet gunner and a mother in the first line, the ball turret being very fetus like.  The surealness of watching the earth below you in your iron mothers womb.  Her protect you, you protecting her.  Also hose hear has a double meaning, hose being a line of tracer fire and hose as in your guts all over the place.  

I'm more partial to Yates myself.

An Irish Airman foresees his Death

I KNOW that I shall meet my fate  
Somewhere among the clouds above;  
Those that I fight I do not hate  
Those that I guard I do not love;  
My country is Kiltartan Cross,          
My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor,  
No likely end could bring them loss  
Or leave them happier than before.  
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,  
Nor public man, nor cheering crowds,    
A lonely impulse of delight  
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;  
I balanced all, brought all to mind,  
The years to come seemed waste of breath,  
A waste of breath the years behind  
In balance with this life, this death.  

Kyle

i think 'statistically' the ball turret was one of the worst places in the plane to be..get the video 'suicide missions, the ball turret' that was on the history channel..it's pretty good.  my grandfather was a bombardier in b17s and b24s.  my mom's boyfriend's dad was a top turret gunner who was shot down (POW) on the shcwienfurt (sp?) raids 8/43 on his last mission.

Sad....if you think on it.......