Homer is looking out the front window of the B-17.
“You can see them so plain, you can even see the people in them!” says Homer, looking at the cars on the highway below.
“Yeah, it looks like we’re flying by roadmap,” says Fred, smiling. “Is this your first ride in one of these things?”
“Yeah, this is my first plane ride,” says Homer, sardonically. “I saw plenty of flying, alright. I was on a CV – that’s a flattop. But I never knew things looked so pretty from up here. Sure is beautiful.”
“I never thought so,” says Fred. “This used to be my office.”
“Bombardier, weren’t you?” asks Al, looking at Fred’s insignia.
“Yeah,” says Fred, pointing at the triangular window. “That’s where the bombsight was. Spent a lot of time on my knees up there.”
“Praying?” says Al.
“Yeah, that, too!” laughs Fred. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes. “Cigarette, Homer?”
“Thanks!” says Homer, taking one from the pack. “It’s alright – – I can get it.” Homer reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a pack of matches. “Here, I’ve got a match, Captain.” Homer deftly pulls a match from the pack.