We Must Never Forget.
By Iris Ruth Pastor….
I wasn’t the brightest kid. I grew up believing the tale my father told me — that I had spent World War II being toted around on his back. It wasn’t until I was about 9-years-old that I realized the impossibility. I had been born in August of 1947, years after the war was over. And my father wasn’t traipsing around Europe on foot in the Infantry, anyway — he was a ball turret gunner in The 8th Army Air Corp, operating in a confined space.
The ball turret gunner was one of the most dangerous assignments in World War II. Ball Turret Gunners on B-17 bombers were protected only by a glass bubble jutting out from the bowels of the plane. Permanently fixed and unable to be retracted, there was no hiding from enemy attack. It was an enclosure that at any time…
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