Heavies B-17/B24 In the thin cold blue of the stratosphere these bombers ply their trade; Contrails streaming along their wakes foretell the coming raid. Oxygen sucked to straining lungs—the piercing cold—so fine— Eyes alert for things that flash—(contesting fighters sign). Turrets spin as the gunners peer-- await what is to be— Landscape and cloud flow far below—up north-- the sparkling sea. In “boxes” the big ‘birds’ seek to fly-- to maximize defense— The sky is black with aluminum shapes---ten thousand men are tense. The coming raid is known— flak bursts come to stay— Mushrooming puffs of blackish smoke greet bombers on their way. Shrapnel flung from exploding shells seeks to do great harm— Gunners firing far below aim-- to make this welcome warm. Some planes are hit, and some will fall and others take their slot— The pace though fast seems very slow-- as they practice what was taught— The initial point has now been reached-- formation starts its turn— The bombsight now will fly the lead-- their drop point will discern. No evasive action now—the final course dead straight--- Ground-bound gunners can take dead aim-- fill the sky with hate— With bombs away—those who can---turn--and northwest fly— Form again to defend themselves-- in a very hostile sky. The flak bursts stop—this means one thing—fighters are in the air— Starting their runs from “12 O’clock” since fewer guns will bear— Gunners yell on the ‘inter-coms’ as they fire-and alert the crew— The path an enemy fighter takes--- if it passes right on through. Planes are hit and blossom fire as fuel tanks alight— Parachutes are seen from some-- ere they tumble out of sight— Some fighters also share this fate and parachute out too— But they may live to fight again—unlike a bomber’s crew. “Little friendlies” now appear-- clear the air for the homeward bound— What is left of what went out--- seek the safety of the ground— Flares announce “wounds aboard” and priorities are set— Landing aircraft fill each field---welcoming ground crews—met. This was but a one day’s work, and tomorrow’s another day— After de-brief—a good night’s sleep—they’re earning that ‘hazard’ pay!! Bill Woodall