“After I vomited a while I felt one hundred per cent better and I went to work pounding out the messages that had accumulated. It was impossible for me to hear any signals on the receivers due to atmospherics, so I sent blind, repeating myself over and over, in the hopes that someone would copy and relay to Miami for me. Our ships were vacating to Eglin Field that day and Sergeant Le Captain was standing watch on the frequency I was using. He came through with a receipt when I got to where I could hear in my receivers again. “The flight that day was the roughest I have ever been on and a lot of my time was taken up just holding on for dear life and watching the B-4 bags bouncing up and down en masse like a big rubber ball. I was glad when the wheels hit the runway at Eglin Field and hungry, too, for my breakfast had stayed with me for a very short time. I imagine I looked rather beat up when I stepped from the plane but the ground felt so darn good under my feet and I didn’t care who knew that I had been sicker than a dog.” Each member of the crew saw a little different part of the picture. Boys who flew these missions regularly became matter-of-fact in their reports and it was only when they were involved in a really big storm that they talked frankly about their feelings. Here is the story of the flight engineer, Sergeant Don Smith, in Kappler’s Hurricane on September 15: “The morning of the fifteenth loomed dark and formidable. This was our day to take a fling at the hurricane the other boys were telling us so much about. As a matter of fact it doesn’t make you feel as though you were going on a Sunday School picnic. From the time we took off until we hit the storm we encountered turbulence and white caps were dashing around like mad but they were mild compared to what was coming.