He was taken aback, seeing it suspended from the ceiling among the other examples of World War II fighters.
The aeroplane had been dredged up from the English Channel, where it had sat undisturbed on the sea bed for forty years. The bullet holes that had ripped open the fuselage and destroyed the engine had been repaired, the bodywork had been restored and gleaming yellow and blue livery had been freshly applied.
He remembered watching this aeroplane ditching into the water as he had floated down. It had not disintegrated on impact, but skipped across the surface before gradually sinking.
He had seen the burning Messerschmidt hit the water too. The pilot had not been so lucky. His machine somersaulted, capitulating in a ball of flame. There had been no ejection or tell-tale parachute.
He had survived, his enemy had not. Such were the vagaries of war.
As their daughter and grandchildren walked away, he silently thanked the aluminium and steel that had held together just long enough all those years ago.

Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story or poem in around 150 – 175 words, based on the weekly photo prompt. Thanks as always to the challenge host Priceless Joy. For more information visit HERE.
To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.
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