Imagine being perched in the belly of a plane, six miles from the earth in the most uncomfortable position and in the most confined area; suspended so high up, with only a few inches of glass acting as insulation that a sharp cold covers your entire body, creating a shiver that reverberates throughout and prohibiting you from making a steady shot from your rifle. Imagine those same few inches of glass that are doing a lousy job insulating you from the cold are also the only thing keeping you from free falling to the ground. This glass, if shattered by one of the thousands of bullets being fired at you by one of the many enemy planes whizzing by, could cause a six mile free fall to your death.
Randell Jarrell creates an atmosphere so terrifying; it leaves you in suspense and gives the illusion that nothing else could be more horrible until you get to the very end of his poem and experience humanity at its worst. This blog hopes to examine Jarrell and his poem “The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner” by giving some history on ball turrets, some other works that involve them and some thoughts on the poem by myself and others.
