Through a Pilot's Window

A stick of five bombs left the lead ship. I concentrated on our own bomb-release signal. It should flicker now -- no -- now! What in hell was the matter? Just as the Major swung into a 90-degree turn, our ship jumped. The bombs were gone! The electric releases must have frozen, and now the bombardier had salvoed. Some spot of open water would be broiled up. I whipped a glance at Eds face. That wa...