91热爆

I was standing on the road outside Earls Colne Grammar School,waiting for the quarter to four school bus to arrive to take me over the 4 miles to Halstead and home. The weather wasn't particularly cold,nor was it wet, but I was wearing an overcoat, and as I began to write this history I could not remember why. Then suddenly the floodgates of memory opened. The bus had been attacked by a German fighter some days before and there wasn't a whole window in it and the seats and backs were full of neat 20mm holes.It was exceedingly draughty.
Anyway, the bus was late, so I occupied my time by watching a flight of Lancaster bombers droning overhead at about 3000 feet. They were in a very neat and tightly packed formation as they droned from my left to my right.
So, unfortunately was another flight of Lancasters, going from my right to my left.
The two clusters of aircraft were obviously at different heights as they appeared to intermingle...but were they? Suddenly, two of them reared up and broke into pieces as they impacted with each other while the rest of the two groups scattered wildly in all directions. What was left of the two colliding aircraft were locked firmly together and whirling round each other with such rapidity huge panels flew off.
I was paralysed with shock. I stood with my mouth open and watched the falling debris. It passed right over my head without a single parachute blossoming. I came out of my coma, and without a thought as to what the two planes might have been carrying I hared after the plummeting debris.
I found it...or rather, part of it. It was the tail turret, snapped off from the fuselage, and standing on four Browning machineguns, their barrels embedded for half their lenghths in the soft earth of the fields. No body. No blood, and I had seen no parachutes...so what did the gunner do? Get out and walk?

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