Geriaviator (Jack Stafford's Memoir Post 20),
...Was some unknown instinct guiding me the 70 miles from that flak-torn little town?...
Strange things happened in war, which were difficult to brush off as coincidences. I offer a much less dramatic case of my own in Burma (Post p.135 #2692, block lettering mine):
....I must have run a good 40 miles north of target with him sitting on my tail, so I had to guess a rough heading for base. Keeping climb power on the engine, I steamed along over the endless mountain ridges, feeling very lonely and insignificant in a very wide world.
Half an hour later, I spotted five dots on the horizon, dead ahead. It was the rest of the formation, dawdling along to let me catch up, and wondering where I'd got to. And I'd run straight up behind them! Stew was amazed (so was I) and bored the Sgts. Mess rigid when we got back, bragging about the navigational genius he'd got for a pilot (I didn't disillusion him!)..
Makes you think !
Danny.