Being in communications we would always set up on the tops of hills or mountains. Sitting in my shelter one afternoon The loudest sound I have ever heard in my life exploded all around me out of nowhere. I almost shit my pants (literally) and flew out the door hitting the dirt face down, fully expecting to be engulfed in an explosion of flames and most definitely dieing from the experience. This was one of the few times during the war my body shook uncontrollably from fear.
After laying there a couple minutes, and realizing I was not dead for some reason, I rolled over to get a look at what had happened and saw nothing but blue sky and camouflage. A moment later a british war plane flew above my shelter close enough for me to see the pilot waving with the same explosion of sound accompanying his flyby as I had just experienced a few minutes before.
By now I could not really hear anymore but at least the shaking had stopped and I determined that if I ever ran across a British soldier out in that desert I was going to kick his ass in repayment for his countryman's antics
