So I thought of this story when reading a gizmodo article about containers and a discussion about world war II bombers commenced. One of my childhood friend's grandfather was an airman in a B-17, I think he was a radio operator. My mom asked him, giving the mortality rate of B-17s, how they got up enough courage to go on each new run. Dead pan he said, "well, we were still pretty drunk when we took off." Which I thought was the perfect answer.