The year was 1940.

The place was Europe.

I was preparing to take a flight over Germany.  The mission: bomb the Nazis.  I was willing to do the task.

Very, very, very early that morning, I woke up, and I boarded the plane, and I took off.  About an hour later, I was over Germany.  As I was looking for Nazi bases, bullets were hitting my wings.  I looked down to see Nazis firing from the tops of the trees.  I dropped bombs on top of them and blowing them to pieces.  As I wiped them out, my wings were starting to severe until, the wings tore off.  I was going down, and I was descending very fast.  The ground was in clear view and coming upon me very fast.  I was going to hit the ground hard and explode into tiny pieces, but wait.  I pulled hard on the brake.  The plane came to a screeching stop just three inches from the ground.  How glad I was that the plane… had air brakes.