Photos of airplanes, whole albums

My childhood was spent in the years of World War II. My father was a civil servant, and in those days the life of a bureaucrat’s family in small-town Anatolia was incredibly monotonous; there was no radio at home, and newspapers came three days late. To listen to the news my father would go to the ‘Halkevi’, a kind of town hall where people could gather, and when late at night he got back home he would tell my mother and me what he had learned about the war that day. So on a daily basis we knew where the German bombs had fallen, and what kind of planes had dropped them: Messerschmidts and Henkels. I would clip photographs of airplanes out of the newspaper and carefully paste them in a notebook. Even our toy planes were fighters and bombers.