>We met only briefly and never talked, but I'm glad our paths crossed.

Poor guy probably was carrying a lot with him.

There is a famous poem[1] about ball turret gunners that immediately came to mind:

>From my mother's sleep I fell into the State,

>And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.

>Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,

>I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.

>When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Death_of_the_Ball_Turret_G...

Edit: Formatting