I was asked, "If you could choose your method of dying and the place in which you will die, where would you like to die and how?"
Screaming orders into voice-tubes from the bridge of my Panzerluftschiffe (Amoured Zeppelin), demanding continued fire of all flak batters and cannons, launching fighters to intercept, and to commence our bombing run onto the metropolis below.
All would be going to plan until a lucky shell would manage to penetrate the command deck plating. The utter surprise that I am fallible shocking me, I would not notice my still smoking pipe drop from my mouth, or my own impact with the deck moments after. And as I lay blee