Death by Design

The chase was well in its top adrenaline zone. At Mach 1.8, I was almost passing out, the pressure was too much, I managed to zero my sights on her tail. I couldnt beleive that a lady could outdo me. To make matters worse, she was an enemy & she had downed 2 of my colleagues. I opened the cap at my thumbs end of the yoke and pressed twice I watched with pleasure as the two babies zoomed towards the tail. . .

Too much light, too much heat, too much pressure dizziness. . . She called out C.B. . .Who?

Then the movie started unfolding. . .
1.8 mach was too fast to follow the armed rockets.
After the explosion, with the excitement, confusion, too much action by the G Force. . . I passed out and flew head on into the flaming wreck. Then I started coming down fast. My jet and all.

After half an hour a rescue helicopter came and airlifted me to hospital. The doctor gave a sad nod of the head and made a small note on his pad in reference to his watch. I was wheeled to a room where the attendant was rather rough on ‘me’. Was he ripping me apart?

The calls were made. First one to the Immediate senior rank, it went up and in around 15 minutes The President put down his red phone sighed internaly and sank on his leather couch, heartbroken.

He got his personal secretary to call my wife. She had just arrived from a business trip abroad and the call did not come at the usual expected time. She sensed something was up.

She was devastated, She drove all the way to the school in tears remembering the days when they used to drive the children to school. His husband in generously decorated Royal Airforce Flying Suit, the boys arguing over who would be the first to hug their daddy when they got to school.

Never before had mummy come to school before the day ended. They were excited. Little did they know what awaited them.
The administration allowed her to take her children home.

Leo, Leeroy & young Lenox were jovial and couldnt wait to see what mum brought them.
“Its about Papa C.B” Lenox was too young to understand . . .

Family, relatives, friends, neighbors, colleagues. It was silence at the camps. Flags droped to half mast.
And stories started flowing. . .
Committees, Teas, Round table meetings, board rooms, enquiries, statements. . . It was tough at the base.

The wakes started, the family fashioned by circumstance, black. They sat sad and low in a corner wondering why it had to be them.

Galway ® Limited rumbled to life.
The law department began work on the documents.
The printing department worked the finishing touches for the eulogy pamphlets.
The cargo department delivered the custom made coffin.
The event management department received the go ahead & confirmation of attendance by The President.

Marching bands, Parades, People talking in low tones was the order. An occassional fly by, by an Army patrol helicopter.
Finaly the convoy arrived.

Ivory Make, Golden bars, Flag gracefuly laid over it. The Pal bearers matched in sync with the band.

My best friend read his story,
My Wonderful boys in unison read their story.
My Lovely Wife gave a tearful & touching speech.
Then The President. . .

It was time to go.

LAST RESPECTS.

Gun Salutes.
Fly by, performed by all the Jets in the squadron.
An airshow of sorts.
The envelop exchanging hands. . . Amazingly from The President himself.

Down I went with a Flying Helmet on my new “house”, next to a model of the Jet I was flying, on that fateful day.

Im I smiling?
My heart is.

Im I Scared?
Guess I should be

Will I Die?
By Design!

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