We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
A B-24 and a B-17 were touring the area about 8 or 10 years ago and were scheduled to land at Tweed New Haven Airport. I took my parents down to see them. Dad had been a navigator on a B-24 and flew his 30 missions out of England. He was in the 446th Bomber Group which led the air assault on D-Day. It was the first time he'd seen one up close since the war. We both climbed in through the bomb bay doors and he showed me where his small navigator station was located just behind and a bit below the pilot and co-pilot. He told me he spent most of his missions looking at the back of their legs.
I took a photo of Dad and Mom standing by the nose of the plane which I'm grateful for as she died 3 years ago and he is 94 now and is beginning to fade. All of his buddies from the Quonset hut they lived in are gone now except for one. The lead pilot for his group, Richard Cole, just passed away a few months ago. They're called the greatest generation now, but they didn't think of themselves that way. They had a job to do and the confidence to follow through and do it.