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Poetry of Direct Personal Experience
Our Collection of Aviation and Military Poetry

The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner
Randall Jarrell

From my mother's sleep I fell into the State,


And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.


Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,


I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.


When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.

Randall Jarrell (1945 - Ball Turret Gunner)



Ball Turret Gunner

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 • Last Modified: 26 September 2014, 14:42