Their Souls Live on.

Brave is an under statement, the word Hero just a word, the Ultimate Sacrifice any human being can be asked upon.

They knife and fork will will not get used today, a new place at the table. The bed will have a new body sitting writing and if lucky sleeping.

Lancaster Bomber

Another telegram, postman rides to the gate, curtains move, knock knock, screams ring out through the cobbled streets once more.

Young eyes look down at the mother figure, brother and sister. I won’t be coming home for tea, birthday or Christmas. I won’t hold you anymore my job done now, hope it makes a difference for the future.

They never said my new job would last one day, one flight, one mission. Young lads in Grey, and Green, Flags, and nations float past me, rising through the clouds peace fills their burnt faces.

Come lad our time is now one shouts, join us, he waits for us with new White Uniforms made of Silk, free of pain laughter again. There’s my mate from down the street he waves, we meet and talk about our family.

Spitfire and Lancaster.

Did we make a difference, will my sister grow up to have children. Do we have Freedom and Peace. Was this the last War, I do hope what we did is appreciated in years to come. We only had 17 years to enjoy on our green and pleasant land.

Royal Air Force


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