We soar aloft in “Seventeens”
To Hitler’s hidden stores
Of gasoline and other things
He needs to guard his captured shores.
We climb above the friendly clouds
Below, the Channel coast is clear,
We check our guns and oxygen;
For death is instantaneous here.
“Coast in” at 20,000 feet
We start again to climb.
There are “bandits” in the air today,
And they’ll strike at any time.
Your throat gets dry and chalky
And you’re looking all around,
Wondering if God’s at thirty thousand feet
The same as on the ground?
There’s a running fight with “Jerry”
And your heart begins to pound.
You think of home and mother.
Yes, the same as on the ground.
Number one is burning now.
You pray til it goes out.
We’re a long way from the Target
And there’s flak along the route.
Three engines overburdened
And the flak bursts all around.
Isn’t God at thirty thousand feet
The same as on the ground?
Your target’s up ahead now
And you get your bombs away.
The ground below is blazing
Where “Jerry’s” oil stores lay.
The flak is really close now
You can almost hear the sound.
Isn’t God at thirty thousand feet
The same as on the ground?
Number four is throwing oil
And he “feathers” number three.
The tail gunner’s badly wounded
And Chuck’s bleeding at the knee.
You’re miles behind the “Jerry” lines
No friendly fields around.
Isn’t God at thirty thousand feet
The same as on the ground?
You’re losing precious altitude,
And strive to plot a course
Around the Jerry flak guns
And all his hateful force.
You pray a bit and think a bit
And steer the pilot ‘round.
Wondering if God’s at thirty thousand feet
The same as on the ground.
The Rhine is just below us now
Luxemburg’s in sight.
We’re coming up on Brussels; Ross,
Steer fifteen to the right.
We’ll hit the coast at twenty two,
Can you keep her up that long?
We’re now at thirteen thousand
With two engines going strong.
Turn left to steer ‘round Dunkirk
And we’ve cleared the coast at last.
We cross the Cliffs of Dover
But our fuel is going fast.
The base is off at “one o’clock”
We fire a red-red flare.
The Doc is there to meet us
And dispense his tender care.
You lift your eyes to Heaven
Thanking God that you have found
That he’s at thirty thousand feet
The same as on the ground.
By a Tired Old Navigator
(Stephen Quinn - 603rd)
Transcribed for the 398th Web Pages by Dawne Dougherty.
