It was a rather strange sensation but I swore I saw Brundie today. Or at least I could feel him. Walking by me, oblivious to my state or existence. And how could he?

But Brundie had passed. A very long time ago. I remember the call; November 11th back in 1956. A Sunday. I was in my chair reading when an old friend from the service reached out. Funny, I don’t remember his name, now. Damnit! We had all flown together during the war. Germany.

Harold Brunden was our pilot but we all called him Brundie. I didn’t even know his first name was Harold until I saw him once reading a letter from his mother. He was fearless – goddamn legendary daredevil. And a womanizer. Good ole Brundie.

For all his bravado and grace under fire – his calm through all those dreadful missions, the endless bombs, the explosions, the return fire, he never wavered from our task at hand, always got us back to base safely. Some guys cried, some guys frozen in shock as bullets rattled the fuselage, even sometimes piercing the metal. It’s a sound I still can hear when I take my mind back. Metal on metal. Nothing compares. Still makes me shiver.

I would close my eyes and pray. Let the angels guide me through. I made promises above and honored those promises my whole life. Those angels sure delivered.

Now Brundie was fearless. He baited the Germans – practically begged them to challenge him. Howling and catcalling like an Apache warrior! The plane, the bombs, the mission – they were all extensions of his very existence. He looked death right in the eyes and spat in its face.

But he still had demons of his own. I guess we all did. We never disobeyed our orders, never wrestled with the ramifications of what we were doing. To the German populace or even to ourselves. Krauts had it comin and we delivered.

But it inevitably came at a cost for all of us. I found solace and redemption in the good book. And my angels. Brundie found his medicine in the bottle. No one questioned any of our choices or direction. It was no one’s business how we reconciled our deeds. As soldiers, and as men. History blessed us as heroes. Still, I never really felt that heroic. And guessing Brundie didn’t either.

I lived a long and fruitful life. Beautiful and loving wife. 4 kids, 5 grandchildren. I look down upon them and feel great pride in all they do, all they’ve accomplished, the joy they bring within their lives. And I sit in peace, recalling my journey and all that had crossed my path. Everlasting tranquility is my beautiful reward. I feel blessed – the angels continue to shower me in kindness.

I do hope Brundie is here, and I hope that he too has found peace. I’m encouraged. Crazy, but  I really felt his spirit today. There were never any doubts when Brundie entered the room. Today was one of extra enlightenment. I love this. All is good.