F6F Hellcat I am big and blue and my wings fold too And my nose is humped a bit— My gear is close to my centerline-- Look fat as even I sit. When my wings unfold from their straight back hold, Rotate to where they belong--- My Browings (six) in a three pack fix--- Await my big Pratt’s ‘song’. From right in front you’ll see my grin, Where air will cool my oil— My sides show where-- my exhaust does flare-- In the prop-wash whirling coil. My pilot sits in my big cockpit— High above my nose— His view is fine through my big prop’s ‘shine’— See’s the wake and how it goes. For carrier life is my pedigree— I was born to this way of ‘work’— Designed to fight where no land’s in sight— And welcome the tailhook’s jerk. The Grumman “ironworks” turned me out— I am proud to bear their name— They did no wrong when they built me strong— Hold up my end of the game. My gear folds back and axles turn-- Put my tires snug in their bay— My drag is down when we leave the ground— And I do this night and day. I’m mostly seen in museums now— My “blue” is largely gray-- But way back when—when they needed me then— Saved that fleet that came to stay! Bill Woodall