Terror on Both Sides

(Kogo)

Of the only two flight-worthy in the world, I have seen one of them; a flying piece of history, the B-24 Avro Lancaster. For those who don’t know, it was one of Britain’s most important bombers during World War II. I was intrigued by the noise as it roared overhead. Its four engines with twelve cylinders each beat out a steady, throbbing rhythm, while the propellers spun out a steady whine. What a gloriously wonderful sound! Or was it? For a few moments I wasn't so certain as I slipped away.

The only thing that was the same was the sound of the engines. Through pitch blackness of night, I heard them faintly in the distance. My heart stopped beating. I knew what that meant. Through the darkness, the evil, throbbing rumble gained intensity. The air raid siren wailed to life. “Run!” it screamed. And so everyone did. Yet over the desperate pounding of feet and the piercing siren, you could hear them marching steadily on. The invisible foe was coming for us, identified only by the dreadful noise it made. The bomb shelter was supposed to protect me. Physically it did. Was it my imagination or did the thrumming sound of the engines follow me underground? Was it my imagination, or could I hear the whistling of the bombs, feel the earth-jarring collision, and experience the instant explosion that wracked the earth and shredded humans like paper? Was there relief when the danger passed? Would I stop shaking in an hour? Two hours? The eerie glow of fires met my eyes as I emerged. And fading into the distance was the steady throbbing rumble… 

In the air it wasn't any better. 

The throbbing serenaded us; it propelled us through the darkness. Us as in our aircrew, us as in our group of bombers. The vibration was fatiguing. And as we drummed over Germany, the terror began. A single pillar of light stabbed menacingly through the darkness. If only it had stayed single. Exponentially they multiplied until the sky was filled with the flaming swords that swished viciously and threatened our thunderous journey. The flak popped and pushed us around. Up and down, side to side we swung, trying to weave our way through the maze of explosions and blinding lights. Suddenly the searchlights converged on a single bomber. It glittered as it twisted through the sky, attempting to elude the fearful focus. A flash and a stream of orange. The aircraft became its own light, spiraling down, down, down. And still our engines droned on. Once the bombs were away, we left the city to its terror as we faced a terror of our own: weaving back through a dangerous night. Terror combined with tiredness as the engines throbbed on… 

And then I came back and the throbbing engines were only a harmless historic aircraft. Did I still find the sound so wonderful? Is it surprising that veterans don’t speak of their experiences?

Kogo. "Avro Lancaster." Wikipedia, 9 July 2005. Web. 26 June 2011. <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Avro_Lancaster_B_I_PA474.jpg>.