B O M B A L L E Y
Looking through the Bridge windows it is a glorious sunny afternoon in the calm blue
waters of San Carlos Harbour. Outside on the Bridge wings, chatting away but watchful, the
Gunners and Marines, armed with rifles and machine guns look like a team out for a day's
Suddenly, out of a valley in the hillside a mile or so away across the smooth water, three Mirage aircraft appear and head straight towards us. The shout goes up, "Aircraft!" A line of tracer from the 40/60 Bo f ors gun shoots out towards one of the three although nothing will stop them. A line of water spouts race along the water from the aircraft, then there is a "Clang, clang, clang!" as their cannon shells hit the side of the ship. Now the three are close enough for the machine gunners and riflemen to engage. They bravely line up and open fire, "Pop, pop pop!" like a motor bike with no exhaust.
The three aircraft get nearer and nearer and nearer. Now they are only a few hundred yards away: two bombs drop away from one and look as though they will smash straight through the windows. "Whoosh!" the aircraft disappear overhead, and then "Bang, bang, bang!" as the 40/60 on the other side of the ship opens fire. The rough shooters run around the front of the bridge and start shooting again at the escaping aircraft. Left in the air, getting closer, are the two bombs.
They are dark green - shaped like giant Walls sausages with a spike in the end. They make little noise. One falls short: the other disappears from sight above the bridge roof ..... will it hit ..... or won't it ...... it doesn't' t ....... it splashes into the water, and a big plume of water shoots up as it explodes.
Bomb Alley ........ here were are.