He is Approaching the Dive. Midway.

He is numbered among eight
Approaching fleet
Of Japanese.
West Coast USA
Hangs in the balance.
Intel had been incredible.
But still the biggest game
Of poker.
Gave his group the
HEAD DOWN order.
Good luck gents.
Training for the dive bomb
Drive had been constant.
Rear gunner readying.
Zero fighters coming soon.
Eyes fixed fearless
On that ship’s deck.
Those perched aircraft.
(Just so much scrap metal.)
Down and down.
Ak ak black patches
To confuse, mess up vision.
No confusion at this moment.
Lining up with the
big ship’s movement.
Wildcat to his left
One wing burning, turning.
Ditching.
Bullets like storming rains.
Coming up and past him.
Down and down. Can almost see
Facial features of yellow sailors.
Lookng upward, praying
To their Emperor
BOMBS AWAY.
Joystick jerked to ascend, quickly.
Burning ship behind.
Going home, smiling.
Whistling some Glen Miller tune.