THE ''LITTLE MAN'S'' FLIGHT
by
Capt. Cecil Hoff
(466th Bomb Gp Flight Surgeon)
THOSE MIGHTY BIRDS AT DAWN AWAKE
THEY ROAR AWAY WITH LIVES AT STAKE
THEY GENTLY FOLD THEIR PONDEROUS FEET
OUTWARD, AWKWARD, AN IMPOSSIBLE FEAT;
UGLY CLOSE, MAJESTIC IN FLIGHT,
THEY SOAR ALOFT AND BANK TO THE RIGHT.
TWENTY-EIGHT STRONG, THEY LEAVE THE FIELD
ALL IS AT STAKE--NOTHING THEY'LL YIELD.
ALL OF THEM BRAVE, ADMITTEDLY FOOLS
THAT SIT IN THAT BIRD, THE LITTLE MAN'S TOOLS
WE OLDSTERS THAT WATCH THOSE BRAVEST OF BRAVE
GRIEVE THOUGH WE KNOW THERE'S ENGLAND TO SAVE.
SOME WILL RETURN, SOME WILL BE DEAD,
SOME WILL BE WOUNDED, THE VICTIMS OF LEAD;
ALL WILL BE OLDER IN MIND AND IN SOUL,
THOUGH THEY'VE RETURNED, THEY'VE RAISED THE DEATH TOLL;
HOW COULD A MORTAL HAVE STARTED THIS THING,
ALL FOR HIS ULTIMATE PLAN TO BE KING?
DARKNESS OF DAWN TURNS INTO DAY
ALL THOSE GREAT BIRDS ARE WINGING AWAY;
THEY TWIST AND TURN AND MILL AROUND,
SEARCHING THE LEAD UNTIL IT IS FOUND.
THEN THEY APPEAR WITH ALL OF THEIR MIGHT,
LEAVING CONTRAILS OF THE DENSEST WHITE;
SOUTHWARD THEY SOAR O'ER FRIENDLY TERRAIN
LIKE DUCKS IN THE FALL, AN ENDLESS CHAIN.
SPELLBOUND WE STAND AND HEAVENWARD GAZE
WATCHING THAT CHAIN FADE IN THE HAZE;
NOW THEY POINT EAST ON DESTRUCTION BENT,
DEMONS FROM HELL--TO SOME HEAVEN SENT.
THE BLOSSOMS OF BLACK SUDDENLY LOOM
WITH POLLEN OF IRON--THAT WHISTLING DOOM.
TUMBLED AND TOSSED, THE GREAT BIRDS ARRIVE
OVER THE POINT FOR WHICH THEY ALL STRIVE.
BELLIES ROLL OPEN AND OUT OF THE BLUE
PLUMMET THE EGGS OF HORROR ANEW;
EACH CARRIES DEATH FOR HUNDREDS OF HIS
MISGUIDED CHILDRLEN; BARBARIC IT IS,
HIGH IN THE AIR, OUT OF THE SUN,
LOOK QUICKLY--YOU'LL SEE ALL IS NOT WON;
TINY THEY SEEM AND TINY THEY ARE,
STREAKING IN FAST THEY STRIKE FROM AFAR.
SOME ARE DESTROYED, MANY TURN BACK
A FEW COME ON THROUGH--METEORS BLACK;
GREAT BIRDS ARE WOUNDED, MORTALLY SO,
FLUTTERING, FLAMING, EARTHWARD THEY GO.
HUNDREDS THEY'VE KILLED, NOW THEY TOO DIE,
INNOCENTS ALL, BUT THERE THEY NOW LIE
THE GIANT BIRDS CIRCLE AND FLY WEST AGAIN,
LEAVING BEHIND SUCH HEARTACHE AND PAIN.
NEVER SO LONG AS WE ALL SHALL LIVE,
GOD IN HIS GOODNESS, THIS HORROR FORGIVE.
THE DAY IS WANING--THEY SHOULD BE HERE SOON;
THOSE MIGHTY BIRDS ARE DUE BACK AT NOON.
A FEW HOURS ONLY HAVE SLID AWAY
THE GIANT EAGLES HAD LEFT THIS DAY.
TO WE ON THE GROUND A YEAR HAD PASSED,
THE MISSION SOON OVER--MAY IT BE THE LAST!
EYES STRAIN UPWARD, SEARCHING THE SKY,
"WIND IS BAD; THEY SHOULD COME IN HIGH."
SPECKS IN THE DISTANCE "CAN THEY BE THERE?"
THE TOUGHER WE ACT, THE SOFTER OUR PRAYER.
ONWARD THEY COME, THEN ALL OF US SHOUT,
MEN FACING EAST WHIRL ROUND AND ABOUT.
THERE THEY ARE! MAJESTIC AND FINE,
SAILING ON PERFECTLY, EACH IN LINE.
BUT SOME ARE GONE! "WHERE ARE THE REST?"
SIX WILL NEVER RETURN TO THEIR NEST--,
TWENTY-EIGHT STRONG THEY LEFT THE FIELD,
TWENTY-TWO ONLY WHOSE FATE'S LEFT UNSEALED.
SIX GREAT BIRDS AND SIXTY BRAVE HEARTS--
ALL OF THEM DEAD, THEY'VE PLAYED THEIR PARTS.
THE GREAT BIRDS CIRCLE AND SLOWLY DESCEND--
ANOTHER MISSION HAS COME TO AN END!