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 sight,
Taking the fight to the enemies door,
Then going back many, many times more.

Some shot down over a foreign land,
It’s hard for us now to understand,
Or so badly damaged then lost at sea
Never more these English shores to see.

Some limped back damaged with loss of crew,
Crew and damage replaced, once again they flew,
We’ll never know the hell of a plane under fire,
To get that ghastly war over, that was their desire.

They flew their dangerous missions without fail,
Determined for peace to once more prevail,
Doing their duty and taking the fatal risks,
Bravery awarded by medals, metal discs!

Be they American or British, it matters not,
They paid the price and should not be forgot,
Airfields long abandoned, put under the plough,
As if they had never been there somehow.

I saw this photo and thought of these brave men,
Is that a phantom bomber to remind me again?
A near perfect shape appearing up in the sky,
I see a ghostly aircraft with a tear in my eye.