High Flight 

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds,-and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of-wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark nor ever eagle flew-
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God

"There's a mission today"

by S/Sgt. Edward A. Greenlaw of Tacoma, Washington - North 1 Compound
 

There's a mission today - you're scheduled to fly.
So you wait by the ship and look at the sky.
It's cloudy up there and the wind starts to blow.
But the mission ain't scrubbed - get in and go.

Your nerves are on edge, you cuss and you sweat,
if this damned ship flies you lose your bet.
But the ship takes off and you settle down
and cast a longing glance at that lovely ground.

The ship will fly while the engines run
so you take your post at your trusty gun
and check to see if it's working right.
If the round ain't short nor the head space tight.

You check your chute and try your phone
It doesn't work and you have a groan
You struggle and test with the blasted thing
And it's finally fixed for you hear it sing

You call the pilot and tell him you're set
And the radioman breaks in on the net.
The rest of the crew all check in turn
Except the nose, they'll never learn.

You've joined your squadron and joined your group
the vapor trails are as thick as soup.
Your breath comes short and you check your hose
and cuss like hell cause the damn thing's froze.

You clear the ice and you breathe again
It's the life for birds - but not for man.
Your face is cold and your masks too tight
so you pull it off and fix it right.

You're climbing fast as you look behind
To see if the Squadron's all in line.
Formation looks good and is staying tight
So you figure everything's going all right.

The hours pass slow till you're nearly there
Your eyes smart and burn from the ceaseless glare
Of a sun that's cold as a chunk of ice
For the temperature is far from nice.

You've never seen it so damned cold.
It tightens you up with a square hold.
Your fingers freeze to the grips of your guns.
You wonder who said that flying is fun.

But you stick it out and stay at your post
If you leave your gun the reports read "lost"
If heaven's this cold you'd choose to dwell
In the hottest furnace they've got in H*ll.

The pilot call that your getting close
Re-check your guns and oxygen hose.
You pull your helmet and flak suit tight
And pray to God that all goes right.

Navigator calls you're on the I.P.
But your eyes are froze and cannot see.
So you pull out the ice and frozen lash
And you see a fighter come in like a flash.

You grab your gun and fire a burst
The b*stard's gone down but he's raised a thirst
That burns in your throat and your mouth goes dry
As you spot another way off in the sky.

You line him up in the ring of your sight
And get all set for a d*mn good fight.
He's coming in and doesn't stop.
Till you hear the upper start to pop.

Then there's  a puff and a burst of flame
And you add that fighter to your engineer's claim.
Now your rid of two but you call in more
You cuss and pray that their aim is poor.

It makes you mad and you feel mean
But you think of home and places you've been.
It's just a thought and it passes fast
And you fire like H*ll as a Jerry dives past.

You never know if you knocked him down
No time to watch him, keep looking around.
They're swarming  now like angry bees
A "twenty" come through and you feel its breeze.

They make their attacks in a steady pass
And you're willing to bet they've got your *ss
But you track 'em in and get their range
You're enjoying yourself 'tho that sounds strange.

It's fifty below but your wringing wet
And your forehead's covered with frozen sweat.
With a final pass the Jerries drop back.
Then you know d*mn well you're heading for flak.

It's coming up now and bursting fast
And coming so close you feel its blast.
So you make yourself small and try to pray
And hope that this is your lucky day.

Your bombardier calls, you're on the run
You wait to hear that the job is done.
The "bombs away" comes over the wire
But you're watching a ship go down on fire.

The stuff is still bursting thick and black
And you cuss the guy that invented flak.
It pounds on the ship like an angry surf.
You're scared to h*ll, but you keep you're nerve.

You're skipper is wise, he's dodging the stuff
But there in the tail the riding is rough.
The ship is hit cause you feel the lurch.
Your guns swing free as you lose your perch.

You feel her lurch and start to drop
And over the 'phone comes "feather the prop!"
Smoke streams back from Number Two
But your pilot is quick and pulls her through.

Now she's under control and flying level
That skipper of yours is a cool headed devil.
You're out of the flak and the ship still flies
And you look behind at the smoky skies.

The group behind is in flak now
And catching H*ll from stern to bow.
You watch two ships go falling down
They both blow up when they hit the ground.

But you're feeling good 'cause you've got your hide
You've beat the flak, no fighters in sight.
There's still three engines running good
You're heading for home and think of food.

The pilot calls at twelve thousand feet
Pull off your mask and turn down the heat.
You strike a match and light a fag
Inhale deep that first sweet drag.

Soon you're over the field and circling round
Then into the pattern and on the ground.
Then take her up to the parking place
You've made it again with the good Lord's grace.

Clear your gun and raise up its cover
Then scramble out to look her over.
The ground crews there with a silly grin
They ask "Where in H*ll have you been?"

She's full of holes from nose to tail
But she went and came and didn't fail.
Just above where your head has been
You could drive a truck thru the vertical fin.

But it's time to brief so you grab a truck
And you realize you've had good luck.
Talk the mission over on the trip to group
Where S-2 briefs and gets your "poop".

Your job is done so down to the tent
Then head for chow like a man h*ll bent.
Those empty seats sort of spoil the meal
You've lost some pals, but it doesn't seem real.

You wait a while and watch the door
But they don't come back like they've done before.
So you try to forget it and think of tomorrow
You've paid for the flight but not the sorrow.

It's cloudy tonight and looks like rain
But the bulletin board reads "OP" again.
The target tomorrow? It's hard to say
Sweat it out again in the usual way.

This story goes on, it has no end
You lose a ship and you lose a friend.
Maybe some day you won't come back
And they'll chalk you up to 'fighters and flak'.

It's a hell of a life and you feel the strain
But you'd do the whole thing over again.
Still you pray for the day when there'll be no war
So you can see what in h*ll you've been fighting for.

You're doing your job. You're winning the fight
Doing your best to make things right.
Just hope you'll live thru it and someday see
That "lasting peace in a world that's free" -

Can You Take It?

by Anonymous - this poem was found on the wall of a solitary confinement cell at Dulag Luft, the German interrogation center where all POWs shot down were taken to be questioned..

You can always tell a Gunner by his greasy hands and vacant stare - and
You can always tell a Bombardier by his manners debonair - and
You can always tell a Navigator by his pencils books and such - and
You can always tell a Pilot - but you can never tell him much.

by: George Lesko                                  

As Flak Goes By - Author unknown

You must remember this
That flak don't always miss
And one of you may die.
The fundamental thing applies
As flak goes by---

And When the fighters come
You hope you're not the one
To tumble from the sky
The odds are always too damned high
As flak goes by---

110's and 210's knocking at your gate
Come on you jokers, come on kill that rate
And should a bomb hang, salvo don't wait
The targets passing by---

It's still the same old story
A tale that's too damned gory
Some brave men have to die
The odds are always high
As flak goes by.

You'll Never Mind - Author unknown

Come on and join the Air Corps
It's a grand branch so they say
You never do no work at all
Just fly around all day---

While others work and study hard
And so grow old and blind
You take to the air without a care
And never never mind. (chorus)

You'll never mind, you'll never mind
Come on and join the Air Corps
And you will never mind---

We are a bunch of heathen
We do not give a snap
For the groundlings point of view
And all that sort of crap
We want about 10,000 ships
Of every other kind
And then of course our own Air Force
And we will never mind. (chorus)

Come on and get promoted
As high as you desire
Your riding on a gravy train
When you're an Army flier.
And just when you're about to be
A general you will find
Your ship blows up the wings fall off
But you will never mind (chorus)

A Handsome Young Airman - Author unknown

Oh, a handsome young airman lay dying
Surrounded by wreckage he lay
And the mechanics who stood all around him
Swear these are the words he did say, did say.

I never should have joined the Air Corps
Mother, dear Mother knew best
For now I lay here in the wreckage
Pratt Whitney all over my chest, my chest.

From the small of my back take the crankshaft
The piston rods out of my brain
The cylinders out of my kidneys
And assemble the plane again, again

When the Board of Inquire assemble
Tell them the reason I died
Was a very flat spin that resembled
The maximum angle of glide.

Here's to the land that bore me
Here's to the land that I love,
To fight for death and glory
And to die in the sky's above.

Stand by your glasses ready
For this is a world full of vice
Drink to the dead already
And here's to the next one that dies.

I never should have joined the Air Corps
Mother, dear Mother knew best
For now I lay here in the wreckage
Pratt Whitney all over my chest, my chest.

 

---

A similar version

Fortress Blues

Why did I join the Air Corps?
    Mother, dear Mother, knew best.
Here I lie 'neath the wreckage,
    A Fortress all over my chest.

If you ever lose an engine,
    And you don't know which way to turn,
Just reach right up on the dashboard,
    Push the button marked spin, crash and burn!

The Fort is a very fine airplane
    Constructed of rivets and tin,
With a top speed of over 100,
    The ship with a headwind built in.

If you ever run into ack-ack,
    Or a Messerschmidt makes a good pass,
Just pick up your chute and start walking;
    To hell with the crew, let 'em crash.

Why did I join the Air Corps?
    Mother, dear Mother, knew best.
Here I lie 'neath the wreckage,
    A Fortress all over my chest.

Beside A German Waterfall - Author unknown

Beside a German waterfall
On a very bright summer day
Beside a shattered airplane a navigator lay.
His pilot hung from a coconut tree
He was not yet quite dead
So listen to the very last words the navigator said.

We're going to a better land
Where everything's all right
Where whiskey flows from telephone poles
Play poker every night
We'll never have to work again
Just sit around and listen
We'll have beaucoup wild women
Oh death where is thy sting.

Thanks for the Memory - Author unknown

Thanks for the memories, of flights to Germany
Across the Northern Sea, with blazing guns
We fought the Hun, for air supremacy.
How lucky we were!

Thanks for the memories, of Me-109's
And Flak guns on the Rhine
They did their bit and we were hit
So ended our good times...we miss them so much!

We drifted far out of formation
We jumped-and what a sensation
And now we sweat out the duration
Our job is done, we had our fun.

So thanks for the memory
Of days we had to stay, at Stalag Luft 1A
The cabbage stew which had to do
Till Red Cross Parcels came
How thankful we were.

So thanks for the memory
When "D" Day came along
We changed our marching song
From "Forever and a Day" to "War ain't Here to Stay"
We thank God for that!

Title and Author unknown

It was late in the evening
The guests were all leaving
O'Riley was closing the bar,
When he spotted this woman
This Red headed woman.
Get out, you can't stay where you are
She shed a big tear in her bucket of beer
As she thought of the cold night ahead.
When out of the crapper
Stopped a gentleman dapper
And these are the words that he said--

Her mother never told her
The things a good girl should know.
The ways of means of Air Corps men
And how they come and go.
Now age has stolen beauty
And time has left its scar.
So think of your mother and sister boys,
And let her sleep under the bar.
 

Roll Call Thoughts 
This poem was found in the photo album of a Stalag Luft I German intelligence officer, Heinrich Haslob known as "Henry, the butcher" to the POWs.  Henry had lived in New York prior to the war and had worked as a butcher.  The author is unknown.

We've stood in the rain, the snow and the sleet,
We've stood there for hours with nothing to eat
And why have we stood there, so "Browned off" and mad?
Because Unterofficer Noyes just couldn't add.

We've dug nice long tunnels through miles of sand.
Made fancy clothes and hid in tin cans.
But why have we failed to leave "Kriegie" Land?
Because Henry the "Butcher Boy" is always on hand. 

We don't like this camp, so windy, so bleak,
And the barking of watch-dogs that bother our sleep.
Oh, Major Von Muller please give us a break;
Just call of your Blood-hounds and let us escape!

A Gunner's Day - Author unknown 
 

A gunner's day is never done,
Up at dawn before the sun.
With the roar of engines in his head,
Wishing he could have stayed in bed.

Chow at four, fried eggs and such,
Won't have time to eat too much.
Briefing at five, the crew is all there,
And ever anxious to be up in the air.

See to your chute, ammunition and guns,
For the boys all know its not for fun.
Jerry will be there high up in the blue,
Waiting for someone, perhaps for you.

Take off at six or maybe at six-thirty,
Hope no one has a gun that is dirty.
Form with the group at 12,000 feet,
See the formation, they really look neat.

Put on your mask the air is getting thin,
Off to battle, some with a grin.
Were over the water, now test your guns,
Enemy coast, here comes the fun.

Flak at six and flak at twelve,
Look out! you hear the bombardier yell.
Here come Fighters, coming in low
Maybe they're ours, don't shoot till you know.

P-58's and P-38's
Our escort is here, they're never late.
They're fighting fools, each man and his ship.
There is never a Jerry they couldn't whip.

The air is cold just fifty below, 
Turn up the heat so you don't freeze a toe.
A sharp lookout boys, the target is near
We don't care to meet the enemy here.

There is the target, plenty of flak,
Bombs Away! Boys now we turn back.
Coming out of the sun, there  are enemy ships,
Aim true boys, we've still got more trips.

There goes one down, another one too.
Our Fighters are busy to see none get through.
There one flames in the sky, as another goes down
The pilot bails out, he makes it safe to the ground.

Then in our tail our guns start to roar,
There's blood on your guns, you shoot as before. 
Your ship is hit but still flies through the air,
You think of your loved ones and whisper a prayer.

Smoke from the target leaps high in the sky,
We'll show the damn Jerries we know how to fly,
The Fighters have left us, the few that are left
Our Fighters got some, we got the rest.

We've been up six hour, two hours to go
Though were doing 200, it seems very slow.
England at last, the tail gunners learn
We think of our buddies who will not return.

We're over the field the crew gives a sigh
We have finished another to do or to die.
Wheels touched the ground with a screech and a bump,
Our ship brought us back over the hump.

We're tired, dirty, thirsty and sore,
The sun has gone down an hour before. 
First clean your guns, do it good boys
For that gun's life is mine or yours.

A sandwich and coffee, your chute you turn in,
Down to the briefing room, turn in your gun.
Two meals, both in the darkness of night,
Get on your nerves, but you're still ready to fight.

The mess hall is warm in the cold of night,
You sit down to eat, talk between bites.
You talk of Fighters, theirs and ours, too
And of the boys that didn't get through.

Of ships going down exploding in air,
The bullets that missed your head by a hair.
Your ship full of holes, guess Joe is in bed,
He has a flak fragment lodged in his head.

Then head for your sack at nine or ten.
A letter from home, another from her.
I love you she wrote, then you know you've won,
A gunners day is never done.

FOR YOU DER VAR IST OVER - Author Unknown 

When your bombs are gone
And the course your on
Promises a view of Dover
You'll get a surprise
When you realize
"For You Der Var ist Over"

When you chute slaps your back
With a jerk and a smack
As you light on the verdant clover
You feel with dismay
That starting this day
"For You Der Var ist Over"

As you march thru town
With an uneasy frown
Cause the guard has folks in Hanover
You get the idea
That in this area
"For You Der Var Ist Over"

When the harmless Flak
Breaks your "Libs" back
No longer a skyward rover
And your hearing them say
In their guttural way
"For You Der Var ist Over"

Then when your a Kriegie
And no longer free
When you would like to be a rover
You look for the date
When they will open the gate
And the damn Var ist Really Over.

We are the men who no longer fly
Mid the threat of fire and flak
We are the one's who are forced to stand by
To the fight we can never go back

Our small domain is encircled by wire
Not even the ground can we roam
To wait quietly by the war does require;
Please God-Why can't we go home?

On days when the weather is very clear
And we gaze into the sky
Sometimes we can see what our captors fear!
Our own planes flying by!

Then we on the ground see the scorching flak,
So send up a silent prayer
To ask him to guide them safely back
Our classmates in the air

They are the brave boys we flew with
Some of whom have yet to die,
Others will come here to join us,
While the rest continue to fly

Some day when the war is over,
And we hear the battle is won
Let's hope that he'll have a record
Of the various deeds we've done

MY BUDDY

(Dedicated to Mike Shanley who gave his life ditching on his 6th mission)

KRIEGIE THOUGHTS -  Author Unknown 

Barbed Wire! Barbed Wire! Barbed Wire!
To the North, South, West and East
Will it always hold me captive
Without hope or joy or peace

Must I ever curve this eager flame
That burns within my chest
Or know once more the joy of home
With pleasant hours of rest

Such questions to my mind do crowd
When deep in thought I sit
But ever with it comes the cry
It won't be long, don't quit

And so it goes from day to day
A never changing scene
But someday soon I will leave it all
As though it were a dream.

A DREAM - Author Unknown 

Last night I held a lovely hand
A hand so soft and neat
I thought my heart would burst with joy
So wildly did it beat
No other hand unto my heart
Could greater solace bring
Than that dear hand I held last night
Four Aces and a King.

ONE HAS GONE - Author Unknown 

We drink to him as comrade must
But it is still the same old story
A coward goes from dust to dust
A gunner from dust to glory.

THE  GODS  FALL  DOWN - by Ralph Parker

Perk and Fran celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary in 2003.