As the French country side rushes by below me, my world is momentarily peaceful.  The only sound is the steady hum of my plane’s engine and the wind washing over the cockpit and past my weathered face.  Leaning my head back I close my eyes for a minute and let the bright rays of the morning sun warm my chilled face.  Grudgingly I reopen them and squint into the distance, as my eyes readjust to the brightness.  Out of a broken cloud bank two black dots materialize.  I smile as I have found this morning’s prey.  Signaling my wingman, I begin a slow climb into the clouds above me.  As I near the clouds the serenity of the morning is ruthlessly broken by bullets flying over my head and tearing into canvas around me.  Twisting and turning in my seat I finally catch the chilling sight of two enemy planes on my tail just as I disappear in to the concealing but temporary safety of the clouds.

– Dan Pinkham