Black cat I’m happy owned by a cat shirt

Black cat I’m happy owned by a cat shirt

My grandfather passed about 15 years ago. When asked what I wanted out of Black cat I’m happy owned by a cat shirt, I only wanted his chunk of shrapnel. He told me the story behind it when I was about 12. He was a Bombardier in the 57th Bomb wing in WWII. He flew missions mostly over Italy dropping thousand pound bombs on bridges and fuel storage facilities. He had seen some horrific things and was in horrific situations regularly. If you’ve seen the film Memphis Belle you can get an idea.

Black cat I’m happy owned by a cat shirt, Hoodie, Sweater,  Vneck, Unisex and  T-shirt

He was on a bomb run and said the flack (anti aircraft fire) was so thick you could walk on the Black cat I’m happy owned by a cat shirt of smoke from the shrapnel expelling flack explosions trying to shoot them down. The plane next to him was blown in two and he watched them fall in two pieces with screaming airmen alive as the plane was falling and burning. Other things he wouldn’t talk about. Then he produced this piece of shrapnel from flack fire. He said he kept it because it almost killed him. He was scoping a bombing run target, looking down through his spotting scope, sitting up and checking his map on a board adjacent to the side of the plane where he sat. He looked down, sat up, then looked down again and the shrapnel blew through the side of the bomber and went right through his map board and stuck in a support beam behind it. It was in direct line through his head if he was sitting up lookin at the map. I wouldn’t be here today if he was lookin at the map and not the target. I wanted that shrapnel and its all I wanted. I have it. I also received his aviator glasses, bombers jacket and oxygen mask.

Best Black cat I’m happy owned by a cat shirt

Somewhere over Italy, a B-25 exploded in front of my grandfather’s plane; the explosion threw the pilot into the Black cat I’m happy owned by a cat shirt, and his body hit my grandpa’s plane. The pilot of that other plane was grandpa’s good friend, his best friend of the war. Grampa would talk about “Ryder” sometimes, and that “he didn’t make it.” Nobody knew about exactly how Ryder “didn’t make it” until after Gramps had died, and his wartime diary was found. People don’t realize how terrible it was up in the sky.