627 Squadron in retirement

 

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At Second Sight
Shot Down - Benny Goodman


      Smith got the chop last night, I watched him go
      A fiery streak across the savage sky;
      Burning and breaking up, a crimson glow,
      A fearful, searing, bloody way to die.

      He only joined our flight a week ago,
      A timid little chap, devoid of fun,
      And ill at ease deep down, quiet and slow,
      No time to make a friend of anyone.

      Last night a fighter jumped him, belching fire;
      The Mossie shuddered, then blew up and spun.
      Smith spiralled earthward in his funeral pyre,
      Another grieving mother’s only son.

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