Flight to Glory
(To Our Proud and Brave Buddies Who Never Came Back)
By Charles W. Nanney

In the days of Hitler's folly
When the bombs were falling free,

From the fields of dear old England
To the heart of Germany;

From the Forts and Liberators
Led by Jugs and Little Friends,

Fell a stream of thousand pounders
Only highest bravery sends.
-

Up there in the brains of Pinetree
Where they settle all accounts

Were the records of a Fortress
That they called the Jersey Bounce.

There it was upon the records
Like a thing of guilt and shame,

"Seven times she flew to battle,
Seven times she turned back lame."
-

Came a crew of lazy bastards,
Short on brains and long on lip,

"We've no plane to fly tomorrow,
Let us fly the hoodoo ship."

The C.O. took up his pencil
With a curl upon his lip.

"Put 'em down upon the roster.
We'll be rid of crew and ship."
-

The flak was thick, the fighters eager.
At the high altitude they rode.

No one drifted near the hoodoo,
Fearing that she would explode.

From 12 o'clock they made their passes,
Rolling over in their turn.

But those watching in amazement
Saw the hoodoo would not burn.
-

They could see her props were feathered
As she plowed on through the flak,

And the Jerries split asunder
As she nosed into the pack.

But they saw upon each engine
Something soft and full of light,

Like four angels from the glories
Now descending from the height.
-

On she flew. They could not stop her,
And then all attention drew

To the bright and shiny halos
On the faces of the crew.

To the I.P. and the bomb run,
"Bomb doors open. Bombs Away!"

And she clobbered the whole target
More than any ship that day.

-
In the days to come they sought her,
Sending searchers near and far,

And they wrote her off as "Mystery !"
And stayed busy with their war.

No, they never found her wreckage,
Parachutes nor any thing.

Jersey Bounce had flow to glory
With four angels on her wing.