Requiem for a 408 Squadron Airman
The nation sends its sons once more
To fight for freedom on a foreign shore,
They fly into the dark night sky
To bomb their target, and, perhaps, to die
These airman had no time to see
The graves of their paternity,
In Flanders fields, or otherwise,
Before they died in the dark night skies.
The briefing’s done its time to go,
We’re off to Essen to see the show,
And take a load of a nasty surprise,
To drop it out of the dark night skies.
Round and round the fighters go
Searching for the Lancs below.
Runways behind us in the evening light,
The Dutch coast ahead, but out of sight,
To get to our maximum height we try
Before we enter the dark night sky.
Round and round the searchlights ply
Seeking victims, in the dark night sky.
A change of course and we’re running down
To Happy Valley and old Essen town,
Where the fighters, flak and searchlights rise
To welcome us in the dark night skies.
Round and round the flak does fly
Seeking to kill in the dark night sky.
The target’s marked, bomb run to go,
Bombers silhouetted by the lights below,
We’re sitting ducks for a fighter’s sharp eyes,
He’ll! bring us death in the dark night skies.