The V1 story reminds me of an anecdote told by sf author Christopher Priest (at a convention my daughter organised). Memory and its unreliability is a thread which runs through his work. He describes a vivid wartime memory of his, being in his mother's arms under a staircase, and hearing a V1's engine stop, and her look of terror as they waited for the blast, etc. But for objective reasons the memory must be entirely fabricated (his age, the fact that they were in Manchester(?) outside the range of V1s all the time...) Fascinating theme.

_{It is rightly acknowledged that people of faith have no monopoly of virtue - Queen Elizabeth II}