Epigraph
: Out of every one hundred aircrew,
twenty
seven survived their tour of operations.
The
afternoon heat now gone, darkness
descends
heavy like a blanket. Shaking,
I
climb into flight boots, their roughness
soothes
taught nerves. Smiles fixed, faking
gayer
moods. A taste of bile in throats,
eyes
staring, minds a'racing, our silence
drown
out by engine noise. I watch spokes
going
a'round, as we are drive out. Violence
in
the air, the lighting that binds together.
Our
aircraft rises out of darkening gloom
like
the ancient colossus battling doom.
The
air inside feels heavy on my chest, lungs
bursting,
pulse a'racing, heavily breathing
I
clamber into position. All now come together
within
the skin of our machine, none can
have
a selfish thought. Here we make our
stand,
300 Spartans holding the pass, we
soar
over a sea glinting as made from glass.
On
nights like these minds drift like clouds
caught
swirling in the sharp searchlights,
to
those who dwell in darkened shelters
a'waiting
our bombs. Our aircraft weightless
now
as death falls from her belly, descending
on
our foe, now trapped in Dante's hell below.
At
these moments my thoughts are speared,
he who pays the piper calls the tune.*
Fear
strikes
at my heart, that I too one day will,
be
made pay the piper, for sins I commit still.
Job
done, we turn for home, our thoughts
begin
to roam, to those who a'wait alone.
In
rooms brightened by dawn's rosy fingers,
a
whispered prayer said each night, touching
our
beloved pictures by candle light. Sleeping
but
alert for sounds that precede our drone,
telling
them we are safely home. Throughout
the ghostly ball, bombers moon** shined on all.
Glossary
*The Unknown Warrior
by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
**This term refers to a
full bright moon which illuminates
the earth like
daylight, making it easier to find the target.
On such nights mass
raids would take place, taking
advantage of the
conditions. However this brightness
worked by ways.
No comments:
Post a Comment