Book Description?Munich?s defences were widespread, and fighter flares hung glaring overhead. On our port beam, flame spurted from a slowly falling Halifax, and, like a scavenger, a Junkers 88 prowled and pecked about the dying bomber. Below, the bombing pattern showed a lack of concentration ? more widely scattered than of recent raids. As Larry Myring pressed the bomb-release button, squinting obliquely through the bombsight, Fox Two reacted to the loss of weight by jumping skittishly. Iturned the trimming-wheel to keep her level and the airspeed needle showed a few more knots. We flew on ten miles to clear the city, then turned southwest to make our track for home. We left a trail of bursting shells behind us, which grew closer as the gunners found their range. As Fox Two lurched and rattled, Lanham barked a warning from his threatened turret seat. I pushed the nose down, headed southward, and we fled away from danger.?

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