I stood behind the gate, watching the plane land. Having been in the command post, I knew that the Doolittle Raid on Tokyo had been nothing but a suicide mission. But, I also had faith that both of them came back. I hoped they had, anyway. I couldn't lose one of them again. I felt my heart jump as the door opened and the men walked out. The men that had risked their lives to avenge 37,000 others. I watched the other women and their children, running towards their loved ones. So far, it was unplausible for me to do such a thing. Then Rafe stepped out. I felt my smile grow larger, he spotted me, but still did not smile. My smile fell, and my heart skipped a beat. No. He's just tired. Someone else has died. Maybe it was Goos or Red. Not him. No, no, no. Then he turned around, reaching back inside the plane. What the? Then there it was. The coffin. The pine box that represented death. I felt my heart literally fall through me and to the ground. At that moment, I knew what they said was true. When you lose someone you love, they really do take your heart with you. I ran over to Rafe, gripping Danny's jacket, which lay ontop of his coffin. I felt my eyes well up. Daniel Walker was only a couple of inches away from me inside a wooden box, yet he was so far away. Wait, what am I saying? The minute that thought crossed my mind, I felt a presence. I'm not going all supernatural on you, but you know what I mean. He was scolding me for even thinking he was far away. I need to scold myself. I looked at Rafe in the eyes, and he took me close to him with his left hand, for he was holding the coffin with his right. I wept; Rafe wept; Danny wept. He was there. I could feel him, while holding onto his jacket for dear life. We finally let go, and Rafe gave the nod to the other men holding Danny's coffin that signaled the procession. Then we walked out of the airport; the 3 of us. No one else. My left hand holding Danny's jacket, my right holding Rafe's left, and his right hand carrying his right hand.

When the action is over and we look back, we understand both more and less. This much is certain: before the Doolittle Raid, American knew nothing but defeat; after it, nothing but victory. Japan realized for the first time that they could lose, and began to pull back. America realized that she could win, and surged forward.

It was a war that changed America. Dorie Miller was the first black American to win the Navy Cross, but he would not be the last. And it was a war that changed the world. Before it, America could watch Hitler storm across Europe and say it was a local problem; after it, even a civil war in a place as remote as Vietnam would seem to be an American problem. World War II began at Pearl Harbor, and 1,117 men still lie emtombed inside the Arizona. America suffered, but America grew stronger. It was not inevitable. The times tried the souls of Americans, and through the trials, Americans overcame.