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.