One night I remember just watching this sunset. It looked just like the Japanese flag. It was a beautiful thing to see. I don't know why, but it was just beautiful.

I wanted to be a pilot but I washed out. I washed out-I wanted to be a bombardier after that, but by then they didn't need any more bombardiers. So it was either electrical or mechanical and I couldn't mess with that electrical so that's how I became a mechanic.

It made for some long goddamn nights I can tell you that. They were out to kill us.

They were still taking the island with bulldozers and flame throwers–they still had the last third of the island to take–but we were in there, fixing engines.

B-29–worst plane ever made, just awful. The engine had a life of less than 250 hours. The air couldn't get to the back of it and the cylinders just blew up. We were always fixing them.

Last Night When We Were Young: