by William Roe | Dec 20, 2024 | Poetry
Not since the wartime, when I was just a kid, When Jerry came a calling and in the shelter we hid, Now, since the pandemic, I’ve written poems by the score, I’ve come to the conclusion, that I’m not proud or sore. I’m going into battle, with all my poems ablaze,...
by William Roe | Dec 20, 2024 | Poetry
In the 1940’s during the second World War, American bombers were based here by the score, At airfields in East Anglia from where they flew, RAF bomber squadrons were also based there too. Taking off and landing both by day and night, It must have been an awesome...
by William Roe | Dec 20, 2024 | Poetry
Across the battlefield all was silent, Even the guns had ceased their roar, The terrain looked like hell on earth, Even the birds sang no more. The weeks and months of carnage, When death and agony took its toll, Trench and barbed wire filled the scene, It was as if...
by William Roe | Mar 16, 2024 | Stories
His voice cut the air like a sharp knife in the stuffy classroom that warm summer day in 1948. ‘Who can name me a famous battle?’ An arm shot up in the second row desk, the boy waving his hand for added effect. ‘Yes boy, what’s your name?’ commanded the teacher with...
by William Roe | Feb 27, 2024 | Stories
The first light of dawn had barely lit the sky over the airfield on that August morning when the orders to scramble broke the reveries, personal dreams and crafty cigarettes of the pilots stationed at the RAF base. 1940 had been a crucial year for the Royal Air Force...
