Flying over the streets of France, I feel free as a bird. I still remember running down the pavement, dodging old ladies and sprinting underneath ladders, coins jangling in my pocket. That was my first toy plane. And now I’m actually flying! The exhilarating rush left as soon as it had come and with a sinking feeling in my stomach, I remembered what I was here to do. I pushed the red button on the joystick. Five 250 kg bombs dropped on to the city below, killing millions. Tears came to my eyes as I flew away.