There once were brave men Worthy of the Title HEROES. He woke up one day from his job as a builder, shop assistant or a car mechanic. This day he woke up he was called for by his country. He was young just a teenager but he had no choice he was to help the War Effort.
Skies once blue turned grey, vehicles green and black camouflage, window curtains to Blackout. Candles burned many a flame looked through with thoughts of their return. Dinner plate looking so big with few items of food to choose from.
Engine roar, thunder and lightning echoes in the night, flames rising on the council estate, another Doodle Bug from a land never seen, the play area in the garden now a bomb site.
Silhouette as the lad from the shop corner selling milk and bread, sits proud, leather jacket fur collar, goggles clean. Like geese they disappear into the distance, Royce engine fading.
I wait in my bedroom looking to the skies for the lad from the shop to fly past, face full of oil, bullet holes fired in anger, light passes through Spitfire wings creating beautiful shapes on my bedroom window.