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To date I have never piloted a biplane, but for many nights before I had any thought of writing this book I dreamed I was sitting in the cockpit of a 'black' biplane. Although I could not see the wings, I just somehow 'knew' it was one. There was a tiny, half-moon windshield, an instrument panel with some gauges and a joystick in front of me. I could feel the wind on my face, icy cold in my bones, vibrations and movements of the aircraft through 'the seat of my pants, 'and a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach... A few nights later, the silhouetted head and shoulders of a young man...