SITTING IN THE SUN

(Pocklington. 1943)

It’s pleasant to sit with legs outspread

And cheerfully reminisce about the dead

Here on the steps in front of the mess

While some read papers, others play chess

In the heat of the summer sun and take

Warm advantage of the lunchtime break

And others tunics off, are lying

On the lawn, gossiping about flying

The airs so very much alive with fun

Yet who will see tomorrows sun?

Yesterday long Tom was here

Tom who drank his pints of beer

In three great gulps and last night flew

To Stettin with his Empire crew

A motley crowd from overseas

We had a signal words like these

Three men wounded, hit by flak

Tom and his men did not get back

But here the summer’s scented breath

Gives unreality to death

Peter Humphrey and Canuck Joe

Were here twenty four hours ago

Peter sat on the old torn chair

By the rose brush over there

And joked about his deeds with dames

Hi aircraft spluttered down in flames

We saw that some of the crew baled out

That Peter stayed we do not doubt

But let us live each moment as it flies

Drinking deeply of the blessed light

For we whose destiny is in the skies

Are down for ops, again tonight