As a wee lad we used to visit relatives in Lincolnshire(South of England)and in about1944, I well remember the B17's and the Mustangs. I well remember seeing the Lancasters of the RAF coming home after their night raids and the B17's just starting out on the day raids.We used to sit and try to count them back in,we never could of course. How some got back I shall never know, one, two engines shot out, and often on fire, huge holes all over, one wheel down,bomb doors not shut, sometimes parachutes near the airfield as the crews baled out before the pilot tried to land the flying wreck------- and the huge palls of smoke from those that did not make it. For a brace of wee lads from the Highlands it was really exciting, but I will never ever forget the tears from the onlookers, who understood the price that was being paid, as these brave people limped over us at 100ft.