The young and the brave. We owe them.
I sometimes think of those poor guys, pulled along in huge gliders, behind lumbering aircraft... how many ever came back, or even landed under control or alive? I must have been six or seven years old, watching them fly over where we lived at the time, not far from Northolt. I guess that's another reason I like Bailey. He feared for Bambi; I watched the glow of flames on the clouds, further down south in actual London.
Who won what, at the end of if all? Seems so pointless today, and I really wonder whether a Nazi victory would really have guaranteed the survival of that regime post-Adolf. Nothing is really cut and dried along roads not travelled.