Tag

Air Force

Poetry

No 3 Squadron RAF

Like soaring eagles through distant skies, defending the Western front, Galiantly fought in Battle of the somme, and enemies we hunt. The Battle of britain, our medal of honour, for our people and our land, our home defence in '45, assisted by the almighty hand. The hurricanes at Biggin Hill,…
Emad Qweitin
11th July 2014
Poetry

A Classic Design

I have a fascination For all things aviation Piston engined string-bags That once flew over sand bags Goggles and a silk scarf Today would make us all laugh Then came the S6B A sight for all to see This sleek and speedy flier Was one we could admire The plane…
Don Holmes
5th January 2012
Poetry

My fate lies

The morning dew is on the ground The wings are getting fed with rounds, Gallons of fuel fill my plane It’s the waiting that drives me insane, I’ve cheated death I don’t doubt The day will come of my last shout, This war will end of that I know Will…
Gordon Bruce
9th April 2011
Poetry

The Few

So peaceful by the Nissen hut, waiting for that fateful call, ‘Scramble, Scramble’, a swarm of Spits and Hurricanes all around. Was the scheme for this sortie to defend our shores at Dover? Or worse, cross foreign fields to fight the foe in his fatherland. Please Lord; grant my safe…
Tom Porter
23rd August 2010
Poetry

Battle Of Britain Tribute

When Britain had its back to the wall The Air Force came to our aid They fought in the Battle of Britain Many scarifies alas were made Those brave pilots fought with courage They fought, as attacks did not cease Defending this country of ours So this nation could live…
Malcolm G Bradshaw
13th June 2010
Poetry

WW II

Lancaster,Spitfire,Hurricane they saved our country time and again,after the war most of them got scraped even though some are flying today. Most famous of them all is the Lancaster bomber,used for squadron 617.The Lancaster bomber will all-ways be remembered even if they get scraped.
James Tattersall
7th June 2009
Poetry

Tally Ho!

One bullet in my wing, another in the fuselage and a firework in the cockpit. Biggin Hill we have a problem! I"m about to land on a runaway runway. Oops lost a wing. LIKE H... h..h......HELP! Farewell Jack. Remember me if I don't come back.
James Tattersall
6th June 2009
Poetry

A September Day

Lacy ribbons of vapour trails criss cross the morning sky, Tracing the path of fighter planes and young men born to fly, They took off at dawns first light and climbed into the heights, Eager to see the Hun come into view, in the cross hairs of their sights. From…
Len Payne
6th April 2009
Poetry

Target – Berlin

The night was dark and starless; the wind was fresh and keen, The bombers stood in readiness, silent and unseen. The pilots waited tensely the long appointed hour Some were grave, some were gay, others quiet and dour. A few were looking quite relaxed with laughing happy eyes Others with…
Daphne Creer
25th February 2009