I remembered the way a Phantom pilot had talked about how beautiful the surface-to-air missiles looked as they drifted up toward his plane to kill him, and remembered myself how lovely .50-caliber tracers could be, coming at you as you flew at night in a helicopter, how slow and graceful, arching up easily, a dream, so remote from anything that could harm you. Based on the sensory details, what can be inferred about the narrator’s feelings toward the airstrikes he witnessed?
He was fascinated by the way they looked.
He became drowsy from their slowness.
He despised them because they were destructive.
He feared them for their unpredictability.