At the museum site, a large hole appeared in the glass curtain wall on the south side, with shattered glass and aluminum frames scattered in the direction leading to Independence Avenue.
The exhibition hall looked like it had gone through a catastrophe, with messes and piles everywhere, and more than a dozen historically significant old aircraft now turned into wreckage,
like toys roughly dismantled by children, with torn skins, broken wings, exposed dashboards, and propeller blades twisted into abstract art.
More than a dozen agents from the Department of Homeland Security and soldiers from the National Guard were looking around on site, rummaging through the debris, taking pictures and documenting, busy but unsure of what they were really doing.
A few medical staff in protective suits arrived at the scene, looked at the heads of a few victims, and directly opened body bags—there was no need for emergency treatment as their heads were shot.
