The Wilmington Morning Star

Not Just A Game
Warplanes have been roaring overhead so steadily that we have become almost as accustomed to their noise as we are to tooting auto horns.

There is no particular novelty now in seeing a flight, or squadron, or formation-whatever it is technically called,-scoot here and there across the sky on some theoretical mission and, like persons who work constantly in some particular noise and hear it only when it ceases, most of us would be conscious of the planes only if they were grounded. It means nothing to us-nothing in particular-to have the air filled with the hum of motors. It's just maneuvers, just a game.

But if we would stop and think for a moment we would find it infinitely more than that.

In reality it is practice for war-a dress rehearsal for the saddest drama ever enacted by man. It is designed to teach the army's aviators how to combat, how to circumvent, an enemy air force which might send its bombers over Wilmington, or any other American city, to rain deadly missiles upon an innocent people, to shatter industries, destroy supplies, murder civilians, cripple children, burn homes.

That is something which must not happen in these United States, if human ingenuity, flying skill and strategic craftiness can prevent it. It has been happening in England with such dire effect that thousands are homeless, other thousands dead, for no other reason than that they were where they were when Nazi bombs landed.

If we see these maneuvers in their true light, if we recognize them for what they really are, we'll hear in their motor's humming the drumfire of war and send a prayer in their direction that their crews may develop a new technique that will not only save this country from air invasion but, if need be, make the decisive contribution to the defeat of the power which threatens the world with a slavery infinitely worse than death.