The ball turret is the one on the bottom of the B-17, shown above. Usually a small man, jammed in. A horribly dangerous place.
A five line poem, written by Randall Jarrell. Below the poem, the explanation -
From my mother’s sleep I fell into the State,
And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,
I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.
The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner
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