Medium Bombers Of World War 2 -

By the time they hit the open ocean, the remaining fighters had turned back, low on fuel. The Gray Ghost was riddled with holes, its hydraulic fluid leaking into the bay, but the engines held.

The turret gunner's twin fifties hammered away, a steady thump-thump-thump that vibrated through the floorboards. One Zero overshot, unable to match the Mitchell’s sudden deceleration as Elias pulled the flaps. The enemy fighter zipped past—right into the sights of the nose guns. Elias squeezed the trigger on his yoke, and the Zero disintegrated in a ball of fire. Medium Bombers of World War 2

"Twenty minutes out," Elias crackled over the intercom. "Gunners, check your belts." By the time they hit the open ocean,

As the carrier or the dirt strip finally came into view, the crew of the medium bomber knew they had done the dirty work—the close-in, face-to-face fighting that won the war one jungle clearing at a time. One Zero overshot, unable to match the Mitchell’s

Suddenly, the airfield appeared. Elias didn't use a bombsight; at this height, it was all instinct. He toggled the "para-frags"—small bombs attached to parachutes designed to drift into aircraft hangars and fuel depots. "Bombs away!"