This is a bit from an interview with Robert Johnson, a P-47 ace credited with 27 victories on the Western Front.
In the air, combat was not man-to-man, face-to-face, as it can be on the ground, like in the infantry. It was an airplane-to-airplane contest—impersonal. We didn't know the people we fought. We had no idea who they were. We did know they were going to try to kill us and we knew that we were going to try to prevent them from doing that—and in very few cases did I ever want to kill somebody. The only times I wanted to kill were when I saw enemy aircraft firing on our parachutes and in another case, when I saw a bunch of people on the ground who took one of our pilots and literally tore him limb from limb. They tore off his arms and legs with their bare hands. That was war, then.
WHAT. THE. FUCK?
Robert S. Johnson about the act of killing
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Re: Robert S. Johnson about the act of killing
Your turn soon, Onebad. Welcome to the Eastern Front, fascist dog!
Adjutant, No. 111 (Fighter) Squadron. Adstantes
Nor law nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds.
A lonely impulse of delight
Led to this tumult in the clouds
Nor law nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds.
A lonely impulse of delight
Led to this tumult in the clouds