Poems dedicated to aircraft

Discussion in 'Aviation' started by pbfoot, Nov 25, 2011.

  1. pbfoot

    pbfoot Active Member

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    Seems to me there are poems from the era dedicated to different aircraft if you have any please share them here. gotta couple for the B26 to come

    this one is from the guys in Ferry Command to the Mosquito which had the highest loss rate of any aircraft on the Atlantic crossing

    The I Have Landed Jitters

    Oh ,don't send my boy in a Mossie
    For he is my Favourite son
    Oh ,don't send my boy in a Mossie
    What dreadful thing has he done

    For he is my only boy , sir
    The best son a mother e'er had
    Oh ,don't send my boy in a Mossie
    For they make him feel so sad

    They give him the shakes and shivers ,sir
    He tosses all night in his bed
    And if you give him another one ,sir
    T'will send him right out of his head

    He's taken to drinking and girls sir
    He comes home stewed to the gills
    Oh ,don't send my boy in a Mossie
    'Cause the thought of them gives him the chills

    Sometimes he talks in his sleep sir
    And as he lies tossing his head
    I hear him muttering and groaning
    "Please give me a Boston instead"
     
  2. pbfoot

    pbfoot Active Member

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    From the b26 training base in Tampa

    B 26 Single Engine Procedure

    If you have altitoot
    Use your chute
    If its on take off your bent
    And a engine has gone and went
    Forget the bail out alarm
    Brother , you've bought the farm
    Naught to do but hope and pray
    For its certain death in Tampa Bay
     
  3. Crimea_River

    Crimea_River Well-Known Member

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    Unknown Author:


    Sure we're braver than hell on the ground, all is well.
    In the air it's a much different story.
    As we sweat out our track through the fighters and flak,
    We're willing to split up the glory.

    Well, they wouldn't reject us, so Heaven protect us
    Until all this shootin' abates.
    Give us the courage to fight 'em and another small item:
    An escort of P-38s.
     
  4. pbfoot

    pbfoot Active Member

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    to the B26

    if you fly that B Dash Crash
    Oh, if you fly that B Dash Crash
    Brother,your fixin to bust your ass
    Gonna kill myself .Oh Precious Me!!

    If you that B twenty Six
    Oh if you fly that B Twenty Six
    Brother your in a helluva fix
    Gonna kill myself .Oh Precious Me

    Who built the fire on the downwind leg
    Now, Who built the fire on the downwind leg
    Some dumb student went and laid an egg
    Gonna kill myself .Oh Precious Me

    Now if he hits that wrong feather switch
    Now, if he hits that wrong feather switch
    I swear I'm gonna kill that sonnabitch
    Gonna kill myself .Oh Precious Me
     
  5. nuuumannn

    nuuumannn Well-Known Member

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    I used to know one about the Avro Shackleton that was sung to the tune of that oldie "Bless 'em all", but for the life of me I can't remember it.
     
  6. A4K

    A4K Well-Known Member

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    RAF Lancaster crews song to annoy the 'over paid, over sexed, and over here' USAAF B-17 crews (to the tune of The Battle Hymn of the Republic):

    Fifty Flying Fortresses at Fifty Thousand Feet,
    Fifty Flying Fortresses at Fifty Thousand Feet,
    But they've only got one teeny, weeny bomb,
    Fifty Flying Fortresses at Fifty Thousand Feet...
     
  7. herman1rg

    herman1rg Well-Known Member

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    "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, or even[8] eagle flew —
    And, while with silent lifting mind I have trod
    The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
    - Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

    One of my favourites by John Gillespie Magee, Jr. (9 June 1922 – 11 December 1941)[1][2][3] was an American[4] aviator and poet who died as a result of a mid-air collision over Lincolnshire during World War II. He was serving in the Royal Canadian Air Force, which he joined before the United States officially entered the war. He is most famous for his poem "High Flight."

    Not specifically about an aircraft but still good
     
  8. herman1rg

    herman1rg Well-Known Member

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    THE MAN IN THE DEAD MACHINE

    High on a slope in New Guinea
    The Grumman Hellcat
    lodges among bright vines
    as thick as arms. In 1943,
    the clenched hand of a pilot
    glided it here
    where no one has ever been.

    In the cockpit, the helmeted
    skeleton sits
    upright, held
    by dry sinews at neck
    and shoulder, and webbing
    that straps the pelvic cross
    to the cracked
    leather of the seat, and the breastbone
    to the canvas cover
    of the parachute.

    Or say the shrapnel
    missed him, he flew
    back to the carrier, and every
    morning takes the train, his pale
    hands on the black case, and sits
    upright, held
    by the firm webbing.

    Donald Hall
     
  9. Readie

    Readie Well-Known Member

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    Windhover


    I caught this morning morning’s minion, kingdom of daylight’s dauphin,
    dapple-drawn Falcon, in his riding
    Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
    High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
    In his ecstasy! Then off, off forth on swing,
    As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend; the hurl and gliding
    Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
    Stirred for a bird--the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!

    Brute beauty and valor and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
    Buckle! And the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
    Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

    No wonder of it; sheer plod makes plow down sillion
    Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
    Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.


    Usually credited to the iconic and most English of fighters...the Supermarine Spitfire.

    John
     
  10. herman1rg

    herman1rg Well-Known Member

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    Gerard Manley Hopkins, nice one
     
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