Devil...
It has been a long time since Nick could sit in a Cobra but for different reasons than alluded to.
When the gunnys went up against .51 caliber machine guns.....they earned their pay many times over. Being a devout pacifist I always tried to stay as far away them as possible with the exception of one occasion when I discovered the AK fire was merely bait for a Doofus and when swallowed....the big brothers took up for the small caliber guys. Nine hits from the .51's that joined in convinced me to stick to haulling underslung loads.
To be in the Cobra and flying down the line of tracers as Nick describes....chills my heart to think about it! The ramifications of the Bad Guys having a good day are not a thing I wish to think about.
I flew Chinooks and they have some very hard thick metal in them in places....and none of it even slowed a .51 hit down. I had a glancing hit from one in the cockpit and can attest to the fact it all happens very quickly. A big "BANG", a flash, and your pulse rate gets right up there with the Nr.
It was not until I saw some photographs of my aircraft that I realized the left brake pedal departed along with the chin bubble....leaving my foot behind in one piece although stuffed back under my seat.
No....I take my hat off to guys like Nick who got out there and exchanged courtesys with the Gomers oft times while at a real disadvantage. Heavens knows...I am here because of how good some of them were.
However, if pushed, Nick will probably admit Adrenalin is an amazing thing....brown, semi-liquid, collects in your un-tied boots, and reeks of poo!