No Return to Fulbeck
He's not returned as some one said, although he should have been
in bed
He left last night to fill a place,
the aircrafts lost without a trace
The
crews fell ill they're one man short, old Charlie said they'll not abort
A volunteer the CO said, old Charlie now is surley dead
Three sorties done and home for leave, his family have been left to grieve
I'll wait awhile on the watchtower roof, to know he's dead I want
the proof.
John
C Haywood Copyright © Poetry In Action
Lost
Without Trace Waddington
We met them in the White Hart pub, to sample Ted the landlords
grub
The crew a very cheerful bunch, enjoyed the darts, and wartime lunch
They seemed quite keen about the
flight, but never thought that on this night
That 'G' for George their faithful kite, would wallow then fade
out of site
But unbeknown to those at base, this ship would be a bitter waste
All contact on this fateful
trip, by morse had actually reached their ship
No hope they said, it's well past two, of any signal coming
through
Transmissions fading into space, on radar neither echo's trace
Youthful airmen of our time, extinguished
in their hour of prime.
John C Haywood Copyright © Poetry In Action
First Op's Hemswell
Bombed up and fuelled we are
waiting to go
but the pressure and tension is beginning to show
This is the big one the training is past
how long will it take us, how long will it last
The throttles are open ever nearer the fence
can we gain
height now, all faces are tense
A gasp as we unstick and climb through the night
thumb's up for the
a/c's who service this kite
We're soon over the target and the flack is quite thick
as the bomb-aimer
shouts loudly 'I've released the full stick'
We finish the bomb run and turn to head back
then
suddenly without warning comes a deafening crack
The port outer engine has started to smoke
but we all hold
our station no usual joke
We shut down and feather as we head for our base
and the radar shows clearly, not
even a trace
The battle is homeward soon Hemswell's in sight
but before we all know it, we're on the
next flight.
John C Haywood Copyright © Poetry In Action
