I was just headin’ into work, like I do every day. I make ammunition at the factory, most of the town does. I had waved at Bill, he’s the guy who does the security desk at the main gate, and I was stopped to chat to Helen and Marjorie when it happened.
There is talk that some folks saw the bombers’ faces, that they were just ordinary looking guys, without any hate or madness in their eyes. Me I never saw them, all I remember was lighting Marjorie’s cigarette and then being knocked off my feet by the blast. The noise was incredible, you know there was a ringin’ in my ears for well past a week after?
I was out – I hit my head on the ground when I fell – and, well I’m glad about that. I didn’t see the broken bodies and the blood, I kinda slept through it all. I’ve heard folks talkin’ since the factory re-opened and I wish I hadn’t heard. Friends of mine were ripped open by those two fellahs, for what? They say that they were protestin’ the war, but how can you protest a war by killin’ folks? I don’t see how.