TheBanyanTree: I was The Last Casualty

[Scott Daniels]

Not sure if the pic link will work, but here goes. 

[IMG]http://mysite.verizon.net/respd8l2/b17.jpg[/IMG]

I can lay claim to being the last casualty inflicted by a Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress. 
There is a small airport nearby, which is interesting in itself as it is the place where John Glenn learned to fly. About 8 years ago, the Confederate Air Force visited the airport with a couple of their aircraft. These fellows are devoted to the preservation of WWII planes in flying order. It was a big event for the local folk - one fine old gentleman who had served as a ball turret gunner visited the plane, a chair was brought up, and he spent a good amount of time sharing stories he had not mentioned, even to his family, since the war. It was fascinting and one quickly realized that  being assigned the ball turret gunner position was extremely dangerous and stressful (that's the ball, under the belly of the plane. Once you were shoehorned in there, getting out was nearly impossible without help). You could very easily be hit by flak, and if the plane became disabled and had to make an emergency landing sans landing gear, your fate was sealed and you could only watch as the earth rose underneath to scrape you into the next world. Many very brave young men met just such a fate.
We visitors were permitted to enter the planes and get a feel for them. I can only say that our fathers had serious guts. 
My oldest daughter was around 3 years old. Of course, what she enjoyed most about the day was running. In turn, her mother and I spent the day chasing. 
As I stood under the wing of a B-17 talking to one of the CAF members, I saw her dart out of the corner of my eye, and instinct took over: catch her! I quickly excused myself, turned and ran in a bent position with arm outstretched, trying to catch hold of her dress. All I remember was the terrible thud of hitting something very hard with the top of my head, and then falling backward onto the deck. I had hit  a propeller squarely. Those things have just no give at all. 
I opened my eyes to find I was surrounded by old men in flight jackets asking if I was alright. I wasn't sure. I slowly got to my feet, felt the top of my head: blood! Just a bit, and just mild dizziness. Anyone who has fallen down in public will understand that the need to make them stop staring is overwhelming. I just kept saying, "I'm fine, I'm fine. Man, that sucker is HARD! hahaha..." 
And it was fine, fortunately. And it gave me the ability to say that I was the last bloody casualty of an encounter with a B-17 Flying Fortress.