-FOREWORD-
This Sbng Book was the property of the l8th*Pursuit Group of the
p<re-World War II period* It has been reproduced from the original in
the interest of our unit esprit de corns which, in the past, has rarely
been equalled. The original Song Book was loaned to the lSth Fighter
Bonjber wing by Major General Kenneth P. Bergquist, Director of Operations,
Headquarters USAF who, as a Captain, was Operations Officer of the 18th
Pursuit (later Fighter and Fighter Bomber) Group from June to February
19411 and ComiTander of the 44th Pursuit (later Fighter and Fighter Bomber)
Squadron from 27 February to 3 October 1941. Captain (now Lieutenant
General, Retired) Roger tf, Ramey, former Commander of Fifth Air Force,
was Executive Officer of the lSth at that time.
Other songs and poems at the rear of the book were accumulated from
various sources as representing a more recent era, and will, no doubt,
be more readily recognisable to airmen of the present. The addition is
by no means all inclusive. Where there ie no iausic to the potass*.
recourse to a Tin Pan Alley hopeful is recommended*
It is my hope that you - the officers and men of the 18th Fighter
Bomber Wing - will read this book from cover to cover, and that you will
discover in it some of the valuable heritage and popular history of your
predecessors in the Wing* This history has been accumulating for thirty
years, in which the Wing has garnered more than its share of honors in
two wars and has, in times of peace, efficiently prepared other men for
the coming conflicts. These songs are a part of that heritage; the words
were born of the ingenuity of its personnel. Be they humorous, sentimental
or sad, or even tinged with good-natured vulgarity, it is hoped that we
shall hear these 8ongs loud and long at such times as fighter pilots,
maintenance and supply men, and administrative personnel get together
for the time-honored American Old-fashioned bull session.
W^d e.(kou.
ROBERT C. ORTE v
Colonel USAF
Commander
1 January 195?
&
FOREWORD-
This compilation of Air Corps Songs is an attempt to fill a
long felt need* By searching available resources and through
contributions of individuals, wo have collected herein a number
of songs written during the World War No* 1 and thereafter at
different times and under various circumstances.
Many of the verses are well known. Others are not. The music for
most of tho verses is not included but all render themselves adapt-
able to some well known air. Appearing also are a number of songs of
other services, well known for their melodies and usually rendered
by all service "Barber Shop Quartets" at about 2300 on Saturday
nights•
We are grateful to all contributors and express our appreciation
to the Order of Daedalians ("Songs of the Army Flyers") and to
the authors of "Songs My Mother Never Taught Me", from which song
books many of the versos herein were taken. The contributors
listed are not necessarily the atithors of the verses. To the un-
known authors we therefor express our indebtedness. We are most
appreciative of the "pick and shovel" work of Lieutenants P. Smith
and G. L. Wertenbaeker, S/Sgt. J. H. Balster, and Corp. N. J* DcBoor
in tho preparation of this song book. It is hoped to improve it by
adding other songs. Any contributions contributing to this will be
gratefully received.
Air Corps tradition is predicated upon meeting grave and difficult
situations with light hearts and high spirit; upon viewing poss-
ibilities of sudden death with detachment and levity* It is a
tradition which carries us through trial and tribulation to ultim-
ate successful accomplishment* That tradition is expressed in songs
of the Air Corps. We hope that, by the compilation of this group
of songs, we have contributed our little bit to the esprit do corps
and traditions of the Air Corps.
w\
For the Officers and Men of the 18th Pursuit Group J
K« N. Walker,
Major, Air Corps,
Commanding*
20 June 1940.
(Note: This book is not for sale and is not to be sold)
TABLE OF COHTMTS
SONGSs-
Eighteenth Interceptor Group
'Its A Long Way to Hickam Field, Boys
Frankie and Johnnie
Bombed Last Night
'Twas Friday Morn
The First Pursuit
I Havo Taken the Air As I Found It
Memories
The Instructor's Lament
Beside the Brewery at St* Mihiel
The Jolly Pilot
Don't Send My Boy to Randolph
The Old Pilot
The Ki-wi Song
The Bomber's Song
My Wiled-eyed Cadet
The Formation Leader
Stand to Your Glasses Steady
A Poor Aviator Lay Dying
'Twas A Warm Summer's Night
Old 97
Marine Hymn
Fogs Above the Channel
Oh, Now I Am A Kaydette
Army Air Corps Song
Old Soldiers Never Die
Mother, Take Down Your Service Flag
Sing Hallelujah For Maneuvers
Shanty at Old Kelly Field
Look at The Ears on Himl
Come on and Join the Air Corps
Eight Bucks a Day
Hi, Hi, Up She Rises
I want to Go Homo
0v3r. Land and Over Sea
The Student's Song
POEMS:-
The Secret of the Airplane
An Airman's Hymn
A Thousand Thoughts
The Last Bouquet
Yea, Verily
Cadet Lament
ARTICLES:-
How To Fly A Jenny
Primary Training in Chicago
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(Reprinted from "Songs My Mother Never Taught Me")
It is a well known fact that the Air Service (flying personnel,
Ki-x^is and others) made a considerable hit with whatever ladies were pre-^
sent. Infantrymen-will say, "No wonder, the aviators weren't bothered by
the war particularly. They had to spend tfctpir time doing something. With
the trick uniforms. Once in front of the Air Service Headquarters at 445
Avenue Montaigne, Paris, France, a group ofrAmerican Aviators found them-
selves saluting a General. Tho General was; a very well-known American and
famous for his hard-boiled manner. He gavel the pilots one look. Their
uniforms nearly caused him ho art-failure* "j
"What Army do you belong to?" he roarfcd*
"The United States Army, Sir," answcrSd one informative young
Second Lieutenant* I
"Well," continued the General, "1*11 bh God-damned if you!d ever
know it from the uniforms you're wear in*." J
In every community there are a few folks v/ho know the "only authentic
version" of "Frankie and Johnnie"* Avo5.d them I Under certain conditions
(particularly when crossed in an argument) they become violent. The Army
versions noted below lack quite a lot of the Rabelaisian verve, found in
the original. For, according to the "authentic" St* Louis ballad, Frankie
was a simple lady of the streets, living in a "crib house with only two
doors", who gave all she earned to Johnnie, who in turn spent it on some
of his other sweethearts, thereupon two-timing Frankie. "He was her man
and he done her wrong," etc.
As in the case of most songs of the olden days, Frankie and Johnnie
(wjp are told) dates back to 1850j the lyrics are of necessity quite sad.
Folks, it seems (in the olden days), wanted to know about tho poor little
dead baby, or the murdered lover, or the husbandless wife, or about tho
wrongs men do women, etc* In practicrlly every version of "Frankie and
Johnnie" someone gets bumped off and in the 45th verse, the moral is brought
out, namely, "There ain't no good in men," fcause "he was her man and he
done her wrong•"
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FRAKKI£ AND JdH#tE
Frankie and Johnnie were Ibveis.
They were both making the war*
Frankie! she knew her sweet Johnnie,
And she didn.'t trust him
So far* She was his gal*
Bus she done him wrdng.
Frankie, she worked for the Red Crossf
Johnnie, he flew in the Air*
When Frankie and Jotmnie went walkin1,
Soldiers saidf ttMan, what a pai^!H
She was his gal, but she done him wrong*
__C£T
Orders said Frankie and Johnnie
Should not be together no more,
Then Frankie was ffraid her sweet Johnnie ^g
Would do her as others before
She was his galf but she done him wrong.
There was a Colonel who wanted Frankie,
Wanted her for his own girl*
And when he popped her the question,
Ke gave her a necklace of pearl*
She was his gal, but she done him wrong.
Johnnie knew then why the order
kept him and Frankie apart*
So with his hard shoot in1 isidearm
The Colonel was ahot through the heart
She was his gal, but she Mono him Wrong*
So Frankie, she got a new pilot,
A pilot who knew how to lpve.
They swore they'd be true to each other,
As true as the stars up above*
She was his gal, but she done him wrong*
Poor Johnnie went off to the prison
And carried a ball and a chain,
because he had bumped off the Colonel,
For tryin1 to pick up his Jane.
She was his gal, but she done him wrong.
There was another "Johnnie and Frankie" dirgo, known to us at_thc
"Day Bomber's Lament", It was about two fine young American aviators
who were caught in a D«H*4t known to the great common people of the U.
as the Liberty plane.
Frankie and Johnnie were bombers,
Oh, my God, how they could bomb.
Frankie, he had a Croix de Guerre,
And Johnnie, ho had the Palm.
Those -ooor damned fools - they done
•em wrong*
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Frankie, he flew ii fe*Sili.,
^Twas just a damned flyihg liter sd^
iJent *em over to the A#3#F.,
'Cause they didn!t have nothin worse
Those poor damned fools - they done *em wrong %
Heinie sat up in his Fokker,
Fokker was built to fly.
Heinie pulled back on the joy-stick,
And she reared right up in the sky*
Those poor damned fools - they done fem wrong.
W
Heinie slid South overvConflans,
Some nice easy meat to;-spy,
'Till way down below h| saw the D#H.,
A slowly flop-floppinf by.
Those poor damned fobl| ^ they done 'em wrong *
Heinie nosed down on tile D#H.
His guns, they went tifck, tick, tack,
And the second burst o| hip Spcmdau,
Caught Johnnie square in th$ b?ek.
Those poor drmned fools - they done 'em wrong.
Frankie, he turned to Johnnie,
And he said, !tehoot aai»%
But Johnnie was up at the Pearly Grtss,
A-hoarin1 the Angels toot* ^
Those poor damned fools - thoy1 dorte !om wrong <
"~>" Heinie dove straight on the D.H
'*'•■%■ V»^ All(* ilG ^eld *k° trigger back,
'cv,/vy\ •Till the D.H. whirled in a c
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i ?-?-"*-And the smoke was nighty black. /
Those poor drmned fools - tihey done/1 em wrong •
Forty-*seven flea-bitten Heinies \
and one burlap sack, •
Carried Franiio and Johnnib to the tionoyrrd,
And they aint a-Qomin1 back. )
Those poor damned fools -(they done.'1 em wrong*
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' "L'OIIG WJ TO KICKAM FIELD"
(Tune - "Long Way to Tipperrry") (Words by Lt. G.L« Wertenbaker)
It's a long way to Hickam Field* Boay;
It's a long way to go.
It's a long way down to the Bombers,
To the strangest place I know*
There's no pursuit there, 1 mean at Hickaiaj
All Bombers on the lino.
So We'll have to shelve our loops and our snaprolls
'Till some other time.
"BdffliiD LAST NIGHT"
(Tune - "Drunk Last Night11) (Krom - "Songs My Mother Never Taught Mc")
Bombed last night,
Bombed tha night before,
Gonna got bombed tonight,
If we never get bombed no more*
When we're bombed, we're as scrred rs wo can be*
Oh, God drmn the bombin' plrnos from Germany*
They're over us,
They're over us,
One dug-out for the four of us,
Glory bo to God there are no more of us,
♦Cruse one of us could fill it all alone♦
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"'TWAS FRIDAY MORN"
(Tune - »Twcs Friday Morn")
(Words by Lt. P. Smith)
fTwas Friday morn, when wc took off
In the midst of a dawn mirage#
Then tho Captain spied some Hictem Bombardiers
All pink and grey camouflage*
CHOIdJS;
Oh, the B-18's may roar, najr roar
For very soon they* 11 be no more,
*Cause we peashooters arc climbing to the sky,
To divo on the Bombers down below, below, below -
To (Ave on the Bombers down below•
THE FII:ST PURSUIT
(Tunc - "I'm a Rambling Wreck") (Contributed by Capt. R.M. Ramey)
When I was but a little lad,
My Mother, she said to no,
"Listen to no, nay son, my lrd,
And you will eventually see.
Stay rvay from those Bonbrrdmcnt Groups,
The Observation, too.
Just strap a P~l on your—5
It!s tho First Pursuit for you.51
No so down; wide out.
Pull her up in a zoom.
We'll get on your tail;
You111 fall down and go boon!
I like my women crooked
And I'll take my viskey clear.
Ifm a noubcr of the First Pursuit,
And a hell of a guy for boor.
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|;..I HAV3 TAKEN t-]'/mSXZQffiJL.Hp
(Tunc - Kipling's "The Ladies") (Contributed by Major Kenneth N. Walker)
I have taken the years as I have found thornj
I have looped and- rolled in ny time.
I have had sone grand old cross-countries,
And nost of the lot, they were fine#
But the end of it all, it were sudden*
I woke in c hospital ba**e, •
With the echos of barroWed tine
Doing wing^oVers in the rir*
Now I have taken ny fan whore I have found it*
But now I nust pay for ny fun.
For the hours you spend in the sky jazzing
Must be paid for one by one.
The doctors rebuilt vxy expression?
My walk is painful to scej
So be warned by rxy lot,
Which I blow you will not,
And learn about flying fron iao»
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Tunc ~ "I Love You Truly")
(Words by Lt. G.L. Wertenbakor)
Over the clouds, lads;
Come, we will geu
We have the spirit;
We!11 show the foe.
S jlo will return, ;
And only they can tell,
Whic'i went to Heaven
And which w6nt to Hell•
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THE IHSTRUCTQR^S UMSM
(Contributed by Ulijq? Konnoth N. Walker)
!• VJhon you give her the gun,
DonH try to zoom,
For in the graveyard below you
Thcro is plenty of roor.u
"^ CHORUS:
I don't wcr$fc. anynoro flying;
I want to stay on the ground*
"~;—-^ 2% VJhon you'rcJclose to the ground,
I Don't try vertical eights,
For they'll ship you away
In yellow pine crates»
^y 3# When you give hin the stick
Be sure you're high,
For nost of those cadets
V_ Don't know ground fron the sky.
4-» VJhon you're up in the air,
Prey ho don't freeze the stick,
For some of the ground
Is nighty damn thick,
5« Have your ship inspected
By a First Class Sorgo;
Or you will wear silver handles
On your fusclcge.
6« You'll hear the guy
Who'll say, without turning a hair,
"Why, ny friend,
"I've had 10,000 hours in the airJ"
j^+ * f><t j^ EFjdK £ y^y fcjslJ lily
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BESIDE THE BI£tt£lY AT ST, MIHIEL
(Reprinted fron "Songs My Mother Never Tr.ught Me")
"Oh, I1:.: going to a better lend,
They souse there every nightj
Where cocktails grow on crab~apple t
And everyone stays tight •
Where bugles never blow at all,
Where no1on© winds, the clocks,
And drops of Johnnie Walker
Co:.;o trickling down the rocks."
The brave young lad was bouncing off
But as he passed away,
We saw his lips were noving,
"My friends, it was this way:
The God dannod notor wouldn't hit,
The struts were far too few,
A trrctor hit the gas tank
And the flanin* juice cane through."
"Oh, Irn going to a better land,
Where riot or s always run,
Whore house-wives hand out juleps
&And pilots grow a bun.
Where they1vo got no Sops, no Spads, no Sals,
And not a bloody, flanin1 four
And absinthe ftappos. cool and stout,
Are served at every store.
tdfs who flow sane tine with I tenant
later on the Piavoi
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In tho sotiond Vcfse, the reference nrde to the divo of the Fokkors
brings to nind tho intibility of the Nioiaports and other ships used by
Allied forfcc? to oiiWive the German pianos. Tho Nictiports often stripped
tho drnVn.s off tho entering "odgesi of tjigir tip wings in a vertical divo -nd
thus, wo lost mny good pilots•
In the third verso, the Ki-wi (pronounced Keew^o) is a ncn~ flying
aviator Officer, sonctines celled r ground-hog. (Soo the "K±*Wi Sons".)
In the fourth verso, one finds tho worst advice an aviator oveff
received* If a pilot wants to rot killed, let hin fly low and sloW. High
and fast is the only safo way of flying so far discovered*
To bo sung very solonnly and to be renonberod every tine sane
wild.flying idea is advanced by a non-flying enthusiast*
!• Oh, 1 an a jolly piloto*
I land like a galloping goose•
My notor barks like a coyote 5
My wings and ny wires rro loose*
CHORUS:
Oh, you canlt fool the soldier with tho
shovel and the spado
For pcrcontrges will get you bye and byo.
Then lady luck, I fear, will play
Tricks on you, old dorr, \
And the jolly piloto has to dio^
2. I know I ain't got a chance,
When the Fokkors start to divo, v
And when the Archies nako no dance, \ \ /
T Vnny Till nn+, n.n^.cy mit, nlivn. \ \\ 0
3* Nov; if I wrs a Ki-wi,
With flyin1 pay to boot,
I wouldn't give a poewoo,
■Who those s ons—a*- shoot*
4. Now when I joined up for the air,
Mana said, "If you nust go,
Save no tho worry and caro,
By flying low and slow."
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AN AIRMAN'3 HIMN
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When the Irs't long flight is ever,
And the hrpp^ lrndin:fs prst,
And ny altl:;ieter tells no
That the csr ask-up1 s cone at last,
1*11 pwirig her nose to the ceiling,
And 1*11 give ny cratb the gun*
I'll opoiihor up, and let her zoon
For the airport at the sun.
And the groat God of flying non
Will snile at no sort of slow
As I store ny crate in. the hangar
On the field where fliers go.
Then X!ll look upon His face,
Tho Alnighty flying Boss,
Whose wingsprcad fills tho heavens
Fron Orion to the Cross*
Above tho tronors of ;tho world,
Tho black norass of greed and hate,
Your wings of silver iaro unfurled
Whore the clean winds of Heaven wait
To berr you or*.,.and when tho night
Draws close around your lonely barque,
A nillion starry candles light
A shining path across the dark.
God grant your ship bay ever go
In peace...that you nay never rain
A leaden stroan of Death and woe
Upon sonc hapless town or plain*
May folks who hear your friendly roar
Look up to bless the course you fly,
Kor ever loam to cringe before
Your hostile shadow in the sky.
-Frances M. Miller in New York Tines**j ' ''
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A THOUSAND THOUGHTS
(Contributed by Lt. N.W* Worley)
Tho plsao was going down in flanosj
I pulled tho cord and dropped,
But sonothing happened to the 'chute,
For ny descent did never stop*
A thousand thoughts ran through my head
As I bogen to fall,
I'd had so nrny scrapes with Deathj
Was this to end it all?
I thought of all xzy childhood days,
And Ma so kind and sweet
In those last few jr ocious seconds
Ere Death I was to moot.
I thought of all those war-tine days
When Death I oft did cheat;;
I thought of all the struggles
In this life I'd tried to-beat*
I thought of (wife's name) waiting,
My adorable little wife,
And all at once I realized
Just hoi-; sweet was life*
Just then as I thought it ovc.o
That I would crash to the sod,
The 'chute pulled up with a jerkf
Stayed by the Hand of Godi
(By an airman before his last hop)
"DON'T SEJND MY BOY"
(Contributed by Capt. R,M. Ranoy)
"Don't send my boy to Princeton,"
The dying Mother said*
"Don't send nay boy to Harvard?
I'd sooner see him dead."
"Don't send my boy to Rutgersj
No better is Cornell.
Don't send my boy to Randolph Fieldj
I'd see him first in Hell'."
"EIGHTEENTH IOTifflCEPTOR GROUP"
(Words by Lt. P. Snith)
1. Oh, the pilot of tho Goldon Bug
Is in his cockpit safo and snug*
Is everything all okcy-doko?
No, there goes to earth in snokot
SLQBSS:
Away, away, with sv/ord and drun*
Hare they conic, full of run,
Looking for something to put on the bun,
The Eighteenth Interceptor Group*
2* Flickingor^ a Medical nan
Who fiddles around as nuch as he can.
Wo have to cough and we have to linger
While he probec with index finger*
3* The 86th, they wont too far
In getting that new Chevy car*
Tho rest of us arc just the nasses,
But they all can :iss our feet*
4* Hail t lose Hula naidens shy,
Dark Hawaiian Lorelei*
When oar airshipe lie in weeks,
There13 nothing like a little song*
$• Hero's to all br--.ss-hattcd cars
Who love to snoke those good cigars*
They pick the place whore we shall dwell,
And pick us all by lot - LIKE HELL*
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FOGS ABOVE TEi CHANEL
Here is the Air Corps version of the Marine Hyncn -
Contributed by Major Kenneth lh Walker*
Frcn"1 the fogs above the channel
To the top peak of the Vosgos
We have fought our country1s battles,
We have shot down all our foes*
If the Navyw and "ferine GOrpn -
Sven gain to Heaven's shores,
They will find the angels,
Sleeping with the Amy Flying Corps.
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MARINE HMJ
(Reprinted ft en "Songs My Mother Never Taught Men)
This is the hyrm of the U.S. Merino Corps. - as auch a part of their
rogiilar equipment as the bayonet. It typifies the spirit of non such rs the
one who got it in the belly - had screaried a bit in spite of hinsclf - rnd
then had spent the rest of the night rnd nost of the next day, dry-nouthod
and feverish under a leasing sun, trying to signal a conbrt patrol or a
stretcher bearer. When they finally got hin back, his words were, "An, I'll
tell the Sergeant that wo^d never o1 been caught by then flea-bitten goddaa-
ed stom troops if the rdvance could' 'a' kept up with us. Godar.iighty,
what's the good 'o1 eenbat trailing if the other people don't know the sane
tricks you do?"
Prora the Halls of Montezuma
To the shores of Tripoli
we fight pur countries' battles
On the land and on the sea.
First to Cight for right and froedon
And to ke-,p our honor clean.
We are proud to clain the title
QfUnited States Marines,
Eron the pent hole of Cabite,
To the £itch at Panana, -ci::r
Tm will find then t^rj needy
Of Marines. That's what we are.
We're the watch-dogs of a pile of coal,
Or we dig a nagaaino.
Though our job lots are quito manifold
Who would not be a 'aarine? -j&rzr'
Our flag's unfurled to every breeze,
Fron da\$j to setting sun;
We've foyght in every clinc rnd plrce
Where we could take a gun.
In the snows of far off northern lands,
And in sunny tropic scenes,
You will always find us on the job.
The United states Marines.
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Herd's health tov.you and to our coi*ps, ' ..
Which wo aye proud to servej
In nany a strife we have fought for life,
And neve . lpst our nerve.
If the Ariay and the Navy
Sver lock on Heaven's scenes,
leu will find the streets are guarded
By the United states Marines•
'TWAS A WARM SUMMERS' NIGHT
"The Wreck of Old Ninety-seven) (Words by Lt. W.L. Harker)
fTwas a warn sumors night, all the strrs shone so bright
And the South wind erne rolling up the line*
With a nap in his hand of the trip he had planned,
Ronberg clinbed in his BT*-9.
There was a torr in his eye as ho took to tho sky,
For his way ho know he'd never find
And the thought of tho noise that he'd hoar fron the boys
Haunted his troubled winsono rdnd.
Ohi that "Nine" humed a song as ho flew her along
And tho engine kept purring through her stacks.
Then he whispered a prayer way $p there in the air,
Praying ho'd find sonc railroad tracks*
Thon he buzzed o'er a hill and his young heart stood still
For Austin was shining in his face.
Now ho was bound for Pawnee; so it's easy to see
That somehow he wasn't in his place*
Ohi His young heart was stone as he picked up tho phono
And hollered for Randolph-by~tho-Sea•
"Sir, I can't find ny way, think I'll call it a day;
Just get ne back where I belong."
So they directed hin hone fron the course he had flown,
And ho ended up by landing off the "Tee".
Now ho's getting the "bird11, 'cause in case you ain't heard,
"Ronberg never found Pawnee."
THE LAST BOUQUET
Gill Robb Wilson
I've flown 'en all fron then to now
The big ones and the snail•
I've leaped and zoonod and dived and spun
And clinbed 'em to a stall,
I've flown 'en into the wind and storn,
Through thunderhead and rainj
And thrilled the folks that v/rtchod no roll
My wheels along their 'train*
* : A :
/•''''
I've ehasod the steers across the ran^e,
The geeso fron off the bay,
I've flown between the Princeton towers
When Harvard cane to play,
I've dipped the wires fron public poles,
Tho biossons fron the treesj
And scared ny best friends half to death
With stunts far worse than these,
v ! ! I ■ t ■ ' ' ;
n u.JMi.
The rules and codes and zones they forn
And not for such as I, ^
Who, like the great wild eagles, fling
My challenge to tho sky,
A bold free spirit charging fierce
Abova the fallow land,.......
And don't you like these nice white flowers
I'n holding in ny hand?
/Jj! B
.' ZJ A \ --......,
7 \ ; (-\'<
l,
J \
A
PRIIIARY Tfl/ICTNG IN CHICAGO _
(A.C. News Letter)
All the cold weather you;get in Texas is unusual down thors, but it
has travelled 800 niles after passing these latitudes and is beginning to
got warned up by the exterior*; We got it hero fron Canada via Minnesota and
Wisconsin* but it is kept fresh on ice all the v/ay down* You have hear it
said that this is a different kind of a cold up hero and that you don!t fool
it the way you do down South. That is quite true* The cold up hero is fixed
so that if you don't got the h... inside of a house or a set of fur-lined
clothes on d*». fast, you fell nothing at all in a very short tine. People
kid thensclvcs about different kinds of cold, but you can't kid a thornonetcr,
and you can't kid the hunan cpidornis whon it cones in contact with the sane
thing that depresses the themonotor. The only thing that nakos cold colder
is hurddity, and wo have had that here in such quantities that the top of
the radio was fuzzy whon the tenperature was around zero. Wo have carried on
operations on several days when the tenperature varied between 5 &nd 10 de-
grees with the themonotcr in the sun on the protected side of the house.
Now I will toll you of sone of the cold weather troubles \to have had.
The cold cane rathor gradually* as v/o had a nild Fall.. Occasionally sono of
the students wore face nasks, norefor appearances than anything else. Then
cane January the coldest in the history of the Weather Bureau here. The
noan tenperature for January was 16.2 degrees, and we put in 785 student hour.;
in January with 30 students. &q the tenperature got lower, I began to bo con-
scious of :xy face, and frequently becane just as;}|*inod by it as other people
are. Finally wo put everything on and oven hid our faces in nasks, but the
cold was still finding us and getting colder with ever wave. We could take
it down to alnost zoro, but when it got that cold we had the following
trouble z
Wo couldn't get a rise out of the oil 'tenperature guages| thoy
wouldn't oven get up to zero, cxil tunning the engine did no good. Wright ^
Field could do nothing for us, so the Engineering Officer suggested that the
only hope was to hold lighted natches under the guages. This had to bo dis-
continued because we had to buy our own natches• Several of the engines
caught cold and started snoozing when we tried to start then, then developed
chronic coughs which always bothered then (and us) on forced landings. Ono
plane's cough worked dc\-m into it's chest, and it had to be confined in the
Hangar for fear of pneunonia.
While it never really got too cold for us (?), it did get too cold for
tho planes. On the coldest day wo pushed a few of then out, but thoy began
vibrating even before we could get the notors started. The fabric began to
got goose pinplos all over it and the planes shivered so violently that the
rivets and fittings began to loosen. One piano locked its wheels, poked its
nose in the snow and refused to go any further* (For those desiring proof,
send 25 conts for picture.)
We had to quit bathing the planes for fear they i^ould take ncre colds.
Thoy seened to respond bettor to a brisk rub-down x^ith just a dash of Vicks
Vaporub added to the gasoline. We arc watching then carefully to see that
none of then pull' +hnir wheels up under the wings to keep then warn. Tho
students seen to fear this also, as they usually touch the wheals to the cold
snow a few tines when landing before trusting then with the full weight of
the plane%
One of the students cane in one day and. said he noticed the plrnc
turtling blue* and he thought naybe it was getting too cold, lie showed hin
that all the other plcncs wore blue also and he felt better about it*
Wo have found a way to keep the pianos flying on all but the coldest
morning by borrowing a scheme fron the dictators. The Operations Officer
announces the official temperature and suprcsscs all evidence to the con-
trary. All plrnes that refuse to accept the official temperature are subject
to overhaul*
Of course, not all of our troubles have boon with the planes* One
student is arid to have groped his way back to the field in a blinding snow
storm only to find that the snow stern disappeared when he pushed up his
frosty goggles. An Instructor is said to have sent a student to see the
Flight Surgeon because he thawed on the controls* Ho was the first student
to thaw on the ODiitrols in several days; so the instructor thought ho night
be feverish. Another student up for a check ride was a good-looking lad aid
failed to wear a face nask, evidently hoping to capitalize on his uanly
beauty. The supervisor noticed that he began to get pale while he was doing
forced landings and decided that he couldn't stand up under pressure, when he
suddenly Kselizod the nan's face was freezing* Since he was the only good-
looking student we had, the supervisor hurried hin back to the field, in
order to save his beauty for the belles of Srn Antonio, as he would offer no
competition to the Supnrvisor that far away*
Some of the students who frighten easily are very much disturbed by the
face nasks, so the Supply Officer requisitioned sooe nasks with a more
pleasant expression. For himself ho worked out a nask that would change
from a snile to a frown by pulling a string* This was for the students v/ho
spend nost of their tine faring a check ride watching the check pilot in
the mirror*
. The nost unfortunate incident wo hrv3 had occured one day when the
supervisor and the student ho was to check both showed up at the plane with
nasks on* They couldn't tell each other apart and, in the resulting con-
fusion, they got into the wrong scats - the student checked the supervisor
and the supervisor wes eliminated*
Any California supervisor having any excess temperatures, please for
ward sane to Chicago.
a foqr aviatga lay dying
(Reprinted fron "Songs My Mother Never Taught Me")
This is possibly one of the glumost songs in the entire Air Service
repertoire. Many of the good boys who sang it back in 1918 helped to fill
up the passenger list for the graveyards at Issoudun, Tours, Clermont-
Ferrand, Cazeau, St, Jean ana Forgia. Itfs rather a mechanical song, but t
tells its own story quite well. We night add that it. was a prime favorite
in the spring of 1927 out on Long Island around the! hangars occupied by the
ships belonging to Chamberlain, Byrd and Lindbergh. B©th pilats hnd'noch- :
anios pang it'Jje a variety of tunes, the original melody being an old stand-
by known as "The Tarpaulin Jacket".
In the "American Songbag", Mr. Carl Sandburg records the Tarpaulin
Jacket song, and a\Lso a song rbout a "handsome"* but modesty cccpollcd us to
refrain from singing about it. However the idea of the song below came from
"Wrap mo in my Tarpaulin Jacket" although wo did not stick to the original
tunc •
A poor aviator lay dying,
At the end of a bright summer's day.
His comrades had gathered about him
To carry his fragments away.
The airplane was piled on his wishbono,
His Hctchkiss was wrapped 'round his headj
He wore a sparkplug on each elbow,
!T\^as plain ho would surely be dead.
He spit out a valve and a gasket,
And stirred in the .$ump where he lay,
And then to his wondering comrades,
Those brave parting words he did says
"Take the magneto out of my stomach,
And the butterfly valve off my neck,
Extract from my liver the crankshaft,
There arc lots of good parts in this wreck."
"Take the manifold out of my larynx,
And the cylinders out of my brain,
Take the piston rods out of my kidneys,
And assemble the engine again*"
*>v-
»v,
r-y
*f
......•••Contributed by Mrjor K.N* Walker
MY WILD-EYED CADET : ."" THE BCMBER'S
SONG
(My Wild Irish Rose) r'^-^V, ,
I; i..or3" 0^\c, all of you,
Mjr w|ld^oyed cadetj ; .... / ;nd drink r loving cup
H6 Ain't learned nothin' yet, XV.\' [ To Bombers oho and all*
He noses her down -^<L \ \vs^__ Drown your sorrows
When close to the groundN~ ""^And forget tomorrows,
My wild-eyed ondot. ^ ^Foi* tonorrows never cone.
v "Hero's a health to anti-aircrrft
He skids on his banksj Hero's a bumper to Pursuit
If ho lives wofU all give thanks. Got! bless then*
Ho lands with one wing lowj Cone, all of you,
I sco then marching slow Anil drink a brrrel to
Behind n...y wild-eyed cadet. The old bonbrrdxicnt group.
THE FORMATION LEADER
\jf Hero's a health to the formation loader,
A Jolly good follow is he.
He uses "Three Star" navigation,
And he flies on bacrrdi.
/■ Hero's a health to wingnen ft on leaders,
p> And to the gunner in his turrelj
HeroTs a health to the whole damn formation,
We'll fly with you through Hell,
ST^ND TO YOUR GLASSES STEADY
We loop in the purple twilight,
Spin down in the golden dawn /
With the trailing smoke behind us
To show our comrades we've gone» VN
Stand to your glasses stcrdy. ;
This world is a world of lies. \
Here's a health to dead alrerdy,
Lot us drink to the next man who dies*
/
/
• // / / -r / «• //
/-- ;../
■y^-e-j /.* 7-^vc-f-^jp- c2
^ //of fan A/
Vf/if- ._ .rJZ) SVCs, /?*? 1 fi J l-'J ~h / ?'.J~ ■
Cg£----......^'^¥~ -J
Y^ THE KITWI SONB_|w ;<\
(Reprinted fron "Songs My Mdthd* Never Trught Me'1)
Tho Ki*-wi is said to be on lil^icrn bird possessing 1-rgo, scrvicerble
wings, but with neither ability nor willingness to fly* One nay easily see
the amplication to non-flying officers in the Air Service *
Tho other birrnches of the service never understood why the avirtors
took such long leaves of absence rnd so nrny of then* They wondered why th
Avirtors didn't "get on with tho war", perforn their Liysteries in the upper
air, earn their rations. True, we get more lervcs than we deserve, but it
wasn't always our fault• It was the way of the bloonin1 thing* You see,
avirtor riakos his war in short, highly concentrated spurts and then stands
abaft, waiting for weathori spore parts, and other necessary flying
prraphornalia.
Many of the pilots who nado the wrr with the A.E*F. strrted their
aeronautical careers as flying cadets♦ And that was an awful background to
live down. As cadets we learned alnost everything well-disciplined avirtors
should not know.- Ono unrailitcry thing the cadets did was to look upon their
Officers as Ki-wis. (Particularly in the beginning wrs this true of the
Air Service* As tine passed rnd Officers of high rank were taught to fly,
the Ki-wi situation solved itself*) They madd :up this song about then,
discrediting the^jto say the least*
This song should be sung in the rasp-berrying nanner - snootily, as
'twere, with a nine inf.; trerd and as much of a lisp rs possible*
(We have recently been rdvisod by Mr. Charles H. Baker, Jr. that the
Ki-wi is an Australirn bird, s one thing 1 ike the legendrry Wahoo bird* Wo
night suggest to Mr* Baker that this, after all, is not a Bird Book*)
Oh, we don't have to fight like the Infantry
Shoot like Artillery,
Ride like the Cavrlryj
Oh, wo don't have to fly over Gomrny.
Wc are^ the Ki-wi-wi *
We are: the Ki-wi-wi.
Oh, we don't have to fight like the Infantry,
Shoot like Artillery, / / /
Ride like the Crvalry; / / / /
Oh, we don't have to fly over Gcmanyv X^Y / 7 /
| \ \ |
a |
| \ | m |
| fv'*' | %y |
tx We are the Ki^\>i-.wi. /\
/
v. \ v / • / / / /
\ -$y^z ...^ ' - /*,■■)// r\t
) .vy :^yy^yy
^ -y ^ t'tt' Aw
y
Sf ^
/
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i
&
^ v:4,
v
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*
x
THE OLD PILOT
(Tano - "Tho Bastard King of England") (Words by Lt* G«L* Vcrtonbrkcr)
He's a total wreck
With a broken neck.
He owes that to the tine
That he pulled instord of pushed
While flying a broken down BT~9»
Hefs cot wooden legs
Put together with pegs*
He still rcnenbers the tino
\ That ho pulled instead of pushed
\ While flyinr; the God drained BT-9*
WiO) */A
One eye is glassj
He's got lead in his back.
He visualizes tho tino
That he pulled instead of pushed
When flying a socond-hend BT-9#
Ho cats spark plugs
For his breakfast,
Has a piston ring for lunch, /
d.n.1 at supper tino
He ;*£l$s down to dine
On valite stens by the bunch*
And we all love hin
For all his sin.
Even we rejienber the tine
That wo pulled instead of pushed
While flying the BT-9#
S
\?.~
4
(Reprinted fron "Songs My Mothei? Mover Taught Mo")
So far as wc can tell, this poon was not sot to nusic (thrnk
heaven)* It had a considerrblc vogue with the Anerican pilots who flew
with the British.
(
\
M
■■/■/--\l\\:
.....—x..
I cannot do the old things? now
That I've boon used to do.
I'n all snc.shcd up fron do:.:ig stunts,
And so nust keep fron vioi^,
In doing tailspins near the ground,
I lost ny nerve for sport,
I ra not good for anything
Or.} lcg!s a triflo short•
In flying upside down one day
I turned the wrong direction'
So to tho hospital I wrs soirfc,
For rest end fear correction*
For flying at high altitude,
My life is quite undone;
My pressure £#&&£ is smashed and bent,
And I have los*o a lungt
Up in a treo there hangs r wl,ng»
And on the ground a wheel,
While on the struts thore rests an am,
That has no power to feel*
I loft a wishbone in the rprans,
And broke ny collar-bone;
Tho Major saw the sv.ip m0% sv;oro,
In purple rage he said,
"We cannot have those ship* anashod upl"
In kindv^s;/ ko;m ny fiirl- m%y t
Nor oven send a roso,
I haven* t any sense of sncil,
I've lost ny only nose*
Please toll the folks at hone I'n dead,
And soil to then ny pension?
And y:v cadets take hood tc this,
And frcci nc learn prevention.
"YEA VSRILYi"
(Contributed by Lt. P. Snith)
As the tc3c phone .operator who giveth the wrong nunbers^ so is ho who
oxtollcth his exploits in the air*
Ho shall oniric upon the denser of his adventures, but in ny sleeve
shall be heard tho tinkling of silvery laughter.
Let not thy • familiarity with airplanes breed contenpt, lost thou bc-
cono exceeding careless at r tine when great crro is necessary to t$y
well-being.
My son, obey the lew and observe prudence. Spin thou not lower than
1,500 cubits nor stunt above thine own donieilo. For the hand of tho
law is heavy5 it reacheth far and wifee throughout the land*
Incur not tho wrath of the flight conrxndor by breaking the rules5 for
he vrho raakoth right hrnd circuits shall be erst into outer drrkness*
Let not thy pronoesin tho air persuade tho a that others ornnot do even
as thou doestj for he thr.t showeth off in public places is cm aborainr-
tion unto his fellow pilots*
More praiseworthy is he who cm touch both tail-skid rnd v/hoels to the
earth at one tine thrn he who loopoth end rolleth until scac dansel
staroth in anazenent at his daring.
Ho who breakoth r.n undercarriage in a forced Irnding nay, in tine, bo
forgiven, but he who taxioth into another plane will be dispisod for-
ever .
Beware the nan who taketh off without looking behind hin, for there is
no health in hiaj verily, I say unto you, his days arc numbered*
Clever non tako tho reproofs of their instructor in the sane wise, one
like unto another, with witty jest and confessing their dunbness and
regarding thcnsolves with hunor* Yet they try rgain, profiting by his
wise counsel and taking offense at naught that has been said*
As a postage stanp which lacketh its glue, so are the words of caution
to r foolj they stick not, going in ono cct and out the other, for
there is nothing between to stop then.
My son, hearken unto ny Reaching and forsake not the laws of prudence,
for tho reckless shall not inhabit the earth for long.
Hear instruction and be wise, and refuse it not; thus wilt thou fly
safclyj length of days and a life of peace shall be added unto thee*
He who sittest on a hot stove shall junpest very quick,
*' HOW TO FLY A JENNY
by San Stitucs
1. INSPECTION: It is best not to inspect this ship. If you do, you will
never get in it*
2* CLIMBING INTO THE COCKPIT: Do not attempt to entor the cockpit in the
usual way. If you put your weight on tho lower wing panel, it will fall
off, rnd, besides, your foot will go through tJl0 wing, probably spraining
your ankle. Tho best way to get into tho cqekpit is to clirib over tho
tail surfaces and crawl up the turtle-deck. Bo sure to brush the squirrel
and gopher nests out of the seat. Take care not to cut your hand on the
remnants of tho windshield.
3. INSTRUMENTS: After having carefully lowered yourself into tho seat and
groped in vain for a safety belt, take a good look at tho instruments -
both of then. The one on the right is a tachometer. It doesn't work.
The other one is an altimeter and funtionod perfectly until 1918 when
the hand cano off. Look at them now, for after the engine starts you can't
soo thorn
4.. STARTING THE MOTOR: Tho switch is on the right. It isn't connected.
However, it gives a sense of confidence to-tho mechanic who is pulling
tho prop through to hear the switch click when you say "switch off". If
for some reason the motor docs start, don't get out to pick up the uncon-
scious and bleeding mechanic. Ho deserved it.
5* WARMING UP: Don't warn up the motor. It will only run a few minutes
anyway, and the longer it is run on tho ground the less flying time you
have, After the throttle is opened, do not expose any portion of your
person beyond the cowling. It is no fun to have your face slapped by a
flying rocker arm or to be peppered by small bits of piston rings, valves,
etc., that arc continually coming out of v/hat wore once exhaust stacks.
6. TIE TAKE-OFF: The take-off is in direct defiance of all the laws of
nature. If you have a passenger, don't try it.
7. THE FLIGHT: After you have dogod through the trees, windmills and chim-
neys until you are over the lake, y u will see a large hole in the left
side of the fuselage♦ This hole is to allow the stick to bo moved far
enough to make a left turn. Don't try ono to the right.
8. THE LANIING: Tho landing is made in accordance v/ith the lav/s of
gravity.
If the landing gear doesn't collapse on the first bounce, don't worry, it
will on tho second. After you have extricated yourself from the wreckage
and helped tho spectators put out tho fire, light a cigarette and v/ith a
nencha lant shrug, walk (don't run) disdainfully away.
THE SPORTSMAN PILOT - 15 March 1935
"OH NOW I m A KABETTE"
(Tunc - "The Infantry")
I was lying in the gutter
All covered up ivdth booi4,
With pretzels in ray whiskcrs|
I knew ny end was near*
Then cane the glorious arny
And saved n® fr on the hearse*
Now everybody strain a ;ut and sing the second ver
CHORUS:
Halleluyahi Halleluyahi
Put a nickel on the drun
Take a quainter on the run*
Halleluyahi Halleluyahi
Put a nickel on the clrun,
And you111 bo saved.
G-L-O-R-Y I an S-A~V~E~D
H-A-P-P-Y to bo F-R-E-3
V-I^-T-O-R-Y in tho ways of S-I-N
Glory - Glory Hallcluyrhi Tra-la-la, Amen.
Oh, now I an a Kaydctte,
A-lcarninf how to fly#
My glorious salvation
Shall lift no to the sky.
The Array is ny savioiir
Eron the straight rnd narrow way*
And take it all ruay.
(Words by Clcrr Ccrroll) (Tunc -
"On Wisconsin")
Amy Air Corps, Amy Air Corps, roll thon to the line
Turn then over, chock the Dotor, hrvo then start on tine*
Don»t delay there, taxi away there, watch and follow thru.
Letfs ;o, boys, the ships cro waiting, lift then to the blue.
Army Air Corps, Amy Air Corps, roll than to the line,
Jazz the Navy, prss the £ow!hhoys, soar above that kind*
Ships are huming, wires are sfcrioxih^;, lift then to the blue.
Amy Air Corps, Amy Air Corps, show what you can do*
All together wo will weather days of rain or shine,
Then away, nen, prve the way, raen, far above the lino*
Amy Air Corps, Amy Air Carps, hold your standrrds true*
Ceilings high-, or low and stamy, keep then earning thru.
OLft SQLD15&S Wmi DIE
Old soldiers never die, nov^;- die* never die.
Old soldiers never dicj they just fade away.
Old sailors nevo:> buy* never buy, never buy*
Old sailors never buyj they just sail rway*
Old pilots never fly, novor fly, never fly*
Old pilots never flyj they just draw their pay*
Moiffi^ ji^sjd^ j(m^smyiczm flag
Mother, take down your service flag
Your sonfs in the S,0.S.
He's S. 0* L», but what the hell.
Ho never suffered less*
He any be thin, but that's fir en gin,
Or else 1 niss ny guess;
So, Mother, take &o\m your service flog;
Your son's in the S. 0. S.
Mother, put out your goldon star;
Your sonrs going up in a sop.
The wintys are weak, the ship's a freakj
She's got a rickety prop*
The motorfs junk, the pilot's drunkj
He's sure to take a flop;
So, Mother, put out your golden strr;
Your son's going up in the sop*
(Reprinted fircm the Daedalian 3ong Book)
Sim HALLELUJAH FOR MANEUVERS
Sing hallelujah for maneuvers*
For marauvers we're on our way*
Now don't be grieving, * cause wofro leavingj
We'll be back the first of May,
Good times lie before us, not that you bore us,
But we like to get away*
Sing hallelujah for maneuvers.
For maneuvers we're on our way*
SHA1ITY AT OLD KELLY HELD
It's only a shanty at old Kelly Field*
The roof is half off, the sky is revealed.
The noise from the planes,
It will drive you insane•
And your neighbors cooking you smell very plain*
The ants and the roaches, they give you night-mares,
And the roads are all lighted by aeroplane flores,
But I'd always go back to that old <}•!. shack,
My shanty at old Kelly Field*
I'm only a student in the CGS pohool,
Attack, not defense is the general rule.
We have horses to ride.
Dumb generals to guide,
Till you get so sore, you're fit to be tied*
There are rivers to cross and forts to attack.
If I over get through, I don't want to come back,
'Cause they gave me a nag
For the live hunt and drag
At tho old 0 and GS school.
I'm only a student at the tactical school.
Proper use of the airplane is our general rule*
Tho instructors, they rant, and tho students, they pant,
But of old Gonercl A wo don't get the right slant.
Attack, Observation or the Pursuit, too,
Say there's not a thing thrt the Air Force can't do,
But if you finish this course,
You must ride an old horse
At the Air Corps Trctical School.
(Reprinted from the Deadalian Song Book)
LOOK AT THE EAKS Oil HIMt
(How do you ;;;ct thrt way?)
Words by
Sgt. Jack W# Alford
Music by
Lt. L«M Harrington
1. I heard they wanted no to fight as aviators boldj
So I wont down, hold up ny hand, and this is x^hnt they told:
"You'll r;o to Kelly Field and learn to navigate the sky."
When I rot there, I was S.O.L., for this is how I fly:
2* I!ve peeled a million spuds since I've boon in this flyinj jrxio
I*vo swunj a pick and shovel, till my weary back is lone*
I've navi.;rtod lots of ground, but not $n inch of sly,
And when I asked about aeroplanes, I hoar the sane old cry:
CHORUS:
"Look at the ears on hin, on hinj
"Oh, how do you get that way."
Tho.t was the .;reetin(j I received
As I nrrched in today.
First, they put no into the kitchenj
K.P. wrs ny none*
I wrote ny cirl thrt I was a flior,
Geei But I'm a wonderful liar*
"Look at the ears on hin, on hin}
"Oh, how do you c;et that way?"
That is the only battle cry
I hear both ni{;ht and day.
If I'm to fir;ht in this r;roat war,
And end the Kaiser's roi^n,
They bettor take ny kettles and pans,
And civc no an aeroplane*
(Reprinted from the Da edalian Sonj Book)
<5'
vy3
COME ON AND JOIN THS AIR CORPS
(Words by Madolienc Smith, B.H* DeFord, RolandvBirnn)
Come on and join the Air Corps
And got your flying pay.
You wonft have to work at all,
But loaf around all day*
Whilo others toil and study herd,
And soon grow old and blind,
You trko the Air without c care,
And never, never mind.
CHORUS:
Never mind, never mind.
Come on and join tho Air Co:
And you will never mind*
Our pilots do a lot of stunts,
And do them well, of course,
And if you think that isn't hard,
Just try to loop a horse*
But just when you1 re about to be
A General, you find
Your motors cough, your wings fall
But you will never mindt
Your1re flying o'er tho ococm,
And then* from where you sit,
You see your prop oomo to a stop,
Your engine it has quit.
You crnnot swim, the ship won't fl
The shoj*e is miles behind.
Oh, what a dish for the; crabs and_
But you will never mindl f~
EIGHT BUCKS L DAY
(Wards by H. S. Hansell, Jr.)
Opon tho tlirottlo till tho noodle hits tho pog*
Eight bucks a dry; eight bucks a day*
Divo and roll and loop 'or till shofs vinrjloss as a kog*
Eight bucks a day is tho pay*
Close the gate, lock tho door*
fCause wo won't eono back to langiey any norc«
Wo111 land at cvory flyi^4 field to San Francisco Bay.
Eight bucks a day is tho pay*
hi hi up she msm
What you gonna do with a drunken pilot?
What 3"ou gonna do with a drunkon pilot?
What you gonna do with e drunken pilot?
Early in the morning?
Hi, Hi, up sho rises.
Hi* Hi, up sho rises*
Hi, Hi, up sho rises,
Early in the norning.
Put him in tho nose of a B-4 Bonbor.
Put hin in the nose of a B-4 Bonbcr*
Put hin in the nose of v B~4 Bonbor,
Early in tho norning*
Hi, Hi, up she rises*
Hi, Hi, up she rises*
Hi, Hi, up she rises,
Early in tho norning*
I WANT TO GO HCKE
I want to 30 honoi I want to go homol
Tho gas trnk is leaking, the notor is dord,
The pilot is trying to stand on his head*
Tako no back to tho ground;
I don*t want to fly upside down.
Oh, nyl I!n too young to die!
I want to go hone.
(Reprinted froa. the Daedalian Song Book)
0V3R" LAI© AND 0Y2R S3A
(Song of the Aooricrn Air Force)
Lyric by
iivolyn 0 do Sever sky
Music by
Alexander P. do Sever sky
Rise and drink to aviation,
Let us hold our glasses high,
To the glory of our nation,
And the fighting nen who fly«
Fcr whatever is the weather,
And wherever wo nay be,
We, united, fly together,
Over land and over sea.
Bonbcr, transport, aircraft fighter,
Observation and pursuit,
Drink her down to glory brighter,
Join your -glasses in salute.
Yes, tomorrow planes are soaring,
And the wind is blowing free,
Wings are spread nnd engines roaring,
Over land and over soa.
Clear your guns and get then ready,
Check the load in each bonbrack,
Keep formation, hold her steady,
Diving steeply for attack. *
Let the bullets tell their story,
Fly her on to victory,' ^
Death cones quickly, so does glory/
Over land ?n& over sea.
Hk
«r*
%
-)
,/VA
*&&
Danger lurks above forever,
First defense is in the skyj
First in war, in peace and ever
Are the fighting nen who fly.
Can't you see our squrdrons soaring,
To repulse the cneny?
Canrt you hear our engines roaring,
Over land and over sea?
s7\
(Reprinted frori the Daedalian Song Book)
f/%
3>
j or
THE SftJDSIft'S.SONG
(Air Coi?pd tfiiatidrl School) Words by
a,Gay Cabrllei4oH|' H. Si Hanscll,
i an & gay sliudicntay K* Hi Walker
Although Ifn not so caliGntny*
Ifn taking this ^course
On-the baak of d horse j
With horses the troubles era plentay.
Tho instructors are very zealous,
Trko ideas firon anyone cllus,
But on nap problem test,
Thoy thing thoirp rro the best,
Relocate your ideas to tho sholiuf•
Now I an a fair navigator
With Gnononic chart or Korcator.
But I would got there
With hours to spare
If rivers and railroads wore straightor*
In infantry I've(great erudition,
Can attach or defend a position,
But when to do which?
Now there is the hitchj
I never hit the school's solution!
Let's all darink a toast to Artillery,
They always park: near a distillery,
And all that they ask
Is that we "clean the nask"
Which wo do if the ground's not to hillery*
Alasi for Attack Aviation
They1!! never dare leave their heno station,
For tho bis three-inch -gun
Shoots then down one by one
At zero or less elevation,
I an a gay beabrrdioroj
I drop rg- boobs far-o and near-o,
And with this basic ana
Keep the notion fron ham,
Or so I've been led to bclicve-o,
Now radio is enblonatic
Of nossages wrong and erratic.
If the Air Force C, 0.
Uses a radio,
The war will bo ended by static.
How, so far the school is all jake-o
But wcfve other courses to takc~o;
So this is rry pica,
If you111 listen to me,
Just let up on us for God's sakc*.o#
OLD 97
(VIords by H. S. Hansell, Jr.)
1. There were ninety-seven airplr.nos i/arning up on the apron,
And they didn't have roan for norc.
The first ninety-six wore of new construction,
But the last was c D«Hi 4»
2. She was old and docropit and the fascicle was rotten,
And the wings were warped and bont,
And sho sagged in the niddlo like a cow in the pasture,
A cow that wrs quite contents
3* She was old ninety-seven, and she had a fine record,
But sho hadn't been flown that year,
And she creaked and groaned when they started the online,
For she knew that her tine was ncar»
4# A Second Lieutenant wandered into the office,
And he asked for a ship for two,
And they said, "Young nan, v/o are very short of airplanes,
But wofll see what we can do*11
5. "Now, the first forty-seven are reserved for the Majors,
And the Captains hove the noxt forty-nino,
But there's onerore ship on the end of the apron,
The last ship upon the line."
6» He was headed for Dryton, and fron there to Columbus,
And he had to nakc that flight j
So he said, "O.K., if you'll give no a clearance,
I will got there some tine tonight."
7# Oh, ho flew over Birninghan and North Alabana,
And the ceiling bogrn to fall,
And the clouds closed clown on the tops of the ncuntaina,
And he couldn't soo the ground at all.
8. He turned to the left and ran into a snow stom,
And he turned back to the right,
And ho turned around; the fog wrs behind hin,
And the mountains were all in sight*
9. Ho flew through rain, and he flow through the snow stom,
Till the light began to fail;
Then he found a railroad that wrs going his direction,
And he said, "I'll get there by rail."
10. He flew do*n the valley, and he dodged 'round the mountains,
And he kept that road in sight,
Till the rails disappeared through r tunnel in the nountains,
And he ended his.lest long flight.
11 . There wr.s old 97 with her nose in the nountain,
And her wheels upon the track,
And the throttle was bont in the forward position,
But the engine wrs facing back.
12. L-adi-o-s, listen to ny story.
No natteo how you yearn,
Never say harsh words to your aviator husbandj
He nay leave you and never return.
(Reprinted frea the Daedalian Song Book)
st;.nd to your glasses
Wo stand Jnccith rosounding raftersj
The walls around arc tjarcj
Thoy echo back our laughter j
Soens that the dord aro all there*
CHORUS:
Stand to your glasses steady,
This world is a world of lies*
Hera's a health to tho dord already,
Hurrah I for the* next Dan to die.
Ponied by the land that bore us,
Betrayed by the ones wo hold dear.
Tho good have all gone before us,
«lnd only tho dull are still here*
Wq loop in tho purple twilight,
Wo spin in tho silver dawn*
With a trail of snoke behind ust
To show where our comrades have gone*
In fianing Spad and Cartel
With wings of wood and steel,
For nortrl stakes we ganblc,
With crrds thrt were stacked for the deal*
(Reprinted fron the Daidalian Song Book)
TO CADETS WHO K3DSD JIT KELLY
BY
S/Sgt Don S. Velliquctte, 19th Pur Sq
(Int)
'Twns out on Kelly Field airdrome
One cold Decenbcr lay,
3eside a cracked-up D.H# 4
A dying Kaydet lay*
"Tell ay sweetheart in San Antonio
My tine on errth has passod|
Vn going to take another hop,
And that will be ny last."
"I*n off for a better field," he said,
"Whore everything is brightj
You can fly any aeroplane;
You can fly all day and night*"
"At this field they will not ground ne,
Although I have not tried before,
I will fly the Spads and Nieuports
And lay off the D.H. 4s."
"At this field they have no flying schedulesj
They don't tell you whore to turn*
The Flight Commander doesn't crre
How nuch grs you bum."
"You can Chandolle on the take-off,
Fish-tail when you land,
Stunt a Keystone Boriber
If you only have the sand."
"You can roll and spin a B-18,
No oxio wiU over tell,
And tell the O.I.C. of flyirg,
To send his rules to hell."
His eyelids dropped} his head fell back,
As he said his lest refrain.
The other Kaydet wiped his goggles
And took the air again*
THE SECRET OF THE JJHPLANE
(This poen is Sir Rudyard Kipling's uTho Socrot of tho Machines"
with slight changes in wording to nako it fit this book; not to
attempt to inprovv on tho "naster14.}
Wo woro takon fron tho orc-bod and tho nino#
We were noltod in tho furnaco and tho plt.#«
Wo wore erst and wrought and homered to design;
Wo wore cut and filed and toolo* and gauged to fit,
Sono water, oil rnd gas is all wo ask
And a thousandth of an inch to give us play,
And if you will sot us to our task,
Wc will servo you four and twenty hours a day I
Wo can fly and loop and roll and spin and stall}
Wo can shoot and bonb and spray and spy and chase j
Wo can clinb and glide and buzz and jazz and haulj
Wo can zoom and roar and dive and scrcan and race I
But romonber, picas©, tho Irw by which wc live.
Wc rre not built to conprehend a lie.
We can neither love, nor p^ty, nor forgive •
If you nako a slip in handling us, you dioi
We are greater than the peoples or tho kings•••
Bo hunblo as you rise above the sodI
Our touch can alter all created thingsj
Wc rre everything on earth .•••except r Godi
Though our sncko nay hide the Heavens fron your eyes,
It will vanish and the stars id.ll shine again,
Because, for all our power and weight and size,
We are nothing nore than children of your braint
/p$ Cc>oD/?s; . /■-
The following are a few of the songs and poems which survived
the Korean Action. All, as presented hero, are the property of
Technical Sergeant "Sandy" Colton, fomorly with the Office of
Information Services, 18th Fighter Bomber Wing, Korer, from 1950
to 1951 > and now a Staff Photographer with the Pacific Stg£§ and
Stripes in Tokyo* We are reprinting then with his permission, and
it is expected most will appear more fanilirr to the present "bird-
man" of the 18th*
IHRCW A I&CKSL OH THE GRASS
Thoy sent no up to Pyongyang,
Tho brief said sukoshi ack rck*
But, by tho tine I got there*,
My wings Wore holed with flak*
My aircraft wont into a spin,
It would no longer fly*
Mayday, Mdyday, Mayday,
I m too young to die*
OHQStiSt
Halloltijh. Halloluja,
Thtfow txMiMl on the e^aSi*
S&V& 6. lighter pilot* $ __.
Krlloiujfi, Halloluja, ■■
Throw v nickol on tho §tas&
And you111 bo saved♦
I flew ny trrffic pattern,
To no it looked rll right.
My air speed read 150*
My God, I racked it tight*
I turned into tho final,
With a window makers breeze*
Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, ^
Spin instructions, please* /
/
<~L
w
V-
'-' I
CHORUS
Halloluja* Halloluja, /
Throw a nickol on the 'grass.
Save a fighter pilot's _^#
Halloluja, Halloluja,
Throw a nickol on the grass
And you111 bo saved./
U*v
A/^
(
I
(Addendum to •Throw A Ficjcel on the Grassf)
Strafing on the panel
My passes were too low#
•FoulIf* cried the tower,
Once more, and home you go*
I racked it off the desert,
That Kustang hit a:stall*
Now I won't see my Mother,
When the work's ail done this fall*
CHORUS:
Cruisin1 down the valley,
Six £JGS were below
Leader gave a wiggle
And hollered 'Tally-hoi,1
So we rolled those tostangs over,
And hit 55° !**•••
•Red-line*.Red-linei Red-lineV
'0ht save me, Major, Sir**
Got two big flak holes in W wingf
My tanks ain't got gassf
Mayday i toydayI Mayday I
Three KIGS on W »-*••
CHORUSr
Cruisin1 down the Yalu
Doing 320 per##*
Gave a call to Kajor Colson,
•Won't you save me, Sir?'
*4From Captain Joseph Burke, a
67th Fighter Booker Squadron
*
EARLY ABORT
My nano is Colonel __^____, I'n tho loader of the Group*
If you'll step into my Ready Kooci, I'll give you all the poop«
I'll tell you where the targets are and where tho flak is black,
For I1 hi the first one off the deck, and Ifn tho first one back*
CHORUS:
Early abort, avoid the rush,
Early abort, avoid tho rush,
rBorly abort, r ©void fcfcc rush,
Oh, the raggedy- ,_,„,.,,. Black Sheep are on para lo, parade, parrdo
Oh, the raggedy-___„ Black Sheep are on parade *
Now, when the war is over and wofie back in the USA,
We111 fly the planes in all war gupos and do what the General says*
But, if wo have another war and tney give us the '84>
To hell with all the General Staffs, I ainft gonna fly it no more*
CHORUS:
Early abort, avoid the rush,
Early abort, avoid the rvsh,
Errly abort, avoid the rttsh,
Oh, the raggedy-___ Bl?ack Sheep arc on parade, parade, parrde
Oh, tho raggedy- Bl;:Ck Sheep arc on parade*
T^ ~ ."TAIgLMB a*? TO pm BALL G^aB"
Take no out to Koo(»ea?
Send no off to tho war,
Give no a briefing and watch no go,
I ain*t scrred of the bullets or snowt
A , Let no cover Watxr1 s Eighth Arny,
^/\\ j And export Ned A bond's Corps,
%V f Ifra a cinch for the Pulitzer Prize,
In this goddsn f/ar#
MM
w^V^..i^.TOE, MEMORIES"
Thanks for the nonary,
Of Tacgu's downy beds,
Air-conditioned heads,
Briefing maps and intorvie
And infiltrating Reds!
Oh, thank you so much*
Thanks for tho nonary,
A balmy sunoor breeze,
Snipers in the trees,
Ico and snow at ten below,
And maj>-dovouring fleas J
Oh, thank you so much*
Wasnft it grand down at Pusan?
And wasn*t it swell up at Unsan?
And aren't we a fine bunch of crackpots...
To corac this far for this goddamn war?
So, thanks for the menorics,
Of nines along the shore,
Wight soil evermore,
There never was a headache,
|ike th^s bloody Korean war.
|h, thank you so nucht
It was hot when tho cooks cane,
Then it froze when the Chinks cane,
A helluva sight; Korea in white,
In our lousy Winter Wonderland*
Wo wcro pinned down, down at Masan.
We wore held up, up at Wonsan.
A helluva fightj we never were right*
In Korea's Winter Wonderland*
CHORUS:
Kin II Sung ve.s seeking a promotion,
Had us locked within the Ifoktong bond.
Then MacArthur had a better notion,
Ran Ned Almond clear around the end*
What a breakj it was clover,
And the war was nearly over*
It looked like a breeze, until the Chinese
Smacked us in our Winter Wonderland.
//
MUSTiMG'S LAMENT
1*0 only a lowly Mustrng.
There are nrny virtues I lack.
I don*t have the grace of an '80
And ny wings are not swept back.
I*n away fraa hone in Korea;
A misplaced brstard at best--
For according to Hoylo and the "News Hawks"
My bolts should be laid to rest*
"The jets are the hope of the future",
The newspaper.headline cries.
They won11 waste a two-inch insert
When a Mustang pilot dies.
But I canft understand the clamor,
That roars o'er Korea land,
When eneny tanks are sighted
Or the Connios mrke a stand.
I never hoar the word "Sab£e,f
Or "Shooting Star" called in the huot
It's always the sane old story -
"Get those Mustangs into the blue"*
I think porhaps pert of the answer,
And I^ra sure you know what I morn,
v \ \Lies in the fact that vx? pilots -
l^ Never learned the work "Josephine" •
But by far the lowest blow cane -
Broko ny Pr clear d2 heart in two—.
Was the day I strggcred fron !16^
Carrying napaln to Sinrnju.
"Jets strike the eneny1 s airfields",
The papers screamed the next day.
They must have loft ere I got there.*
Is the only thing I can say,
1.
2«
3-
There wrs hrrdly a building a-stickingj
The flak was heavy and true#
*Twas the only dry I ever wished
To be smaller a foot or two,
But the heaviest blow cane lrter.
fTwas the day I wished to hrvo dies.
I was sold out by the "world's greatest pilot",
Also known as Colonel McBridc^-.
Josophino - low on, as in Josephine Anno or Josephine fuel.
The F-51 Mustrng hrs a Packard engine.
!16 - K-16 rirstrip in Korea
U. Colonel McBridc wrs the CO. of the 18th Fighter Bonber Group.
H&YNBS NORRIS SPECI/L
Hay no s Norris wont aix$ to i$s Jot^
Ntne^y=i}J.ijq miss^pns and no a^>or^'ypt|
Ha "lopked rt the forms and Isrid with a Sigh,
Malfunctions grlore and I tjet it won't fly.
Sayanora, it's been good to know you,
Sayanora, it's been good to know you,
Sayrnora, it's boon good to know you,
What a long long tine since I've been hate.
Ono more missions and I'n going home#
Ho started hor up with no visual check.
Tail cover was on and ho burned it to heck.
The temperature soared to a thousand or more.
My, he was rough on that F-84.
CHORUS:
The emergency system it just did not work.
Ho kicked it in with a helluva jerk*
The fire wrrning light began to glora,
Ripped open the tail pipe ffrom seam to seam*
CHORUS:
Up north of the bomb line this '84 clown,
Pipped off his bombs though his flaps were still down*
Ho headed back home, an old combrt vet.
100 missions and no abort yet#
CHORUS:
He turned on the final r.nd zilch were his skills.
Ho call to the tower, "Dai 3obi, three wheels"•
The tower replied, "I think you're ariiss".
Instead of dai jobi, it turned out like this.
Ta-Ra-Ra Boom de-ay, they blow up every day*
Have you flovm yours todry? I flew mine yes tor dry*
THE F-84
(This line unknown)
Boys of the black sheep in Thunderjets go,
None of our guys are looking for fame
Just little moths going into c flame.
Oh thct F~84, that___._., oh thet F-84>
With 100J6 she wont eveV flyt
The boys who fly in her are sure bound to die*
Oh that F-84, that ___, oh that F-84«
I lost my engine o'er Sinrnju one day,
I orlled to the group but they'd all flown away,
Loft to the mercy of fighters and flock.
I'm telling you boys, it14 a wonder I'm back.
Oh that F-84, that_____, Oh that F~84.
With 100$, she wont even fly*
The boys who fly in hor are sur$ bound to die*
Oh that F-84, that ____, oh that F~84.
Mr jors and Colonels hrve milk runs to fly.
None of the missions where many men die*
Just at the time they1 re leaving the sack,
We've dropped rll our bombs and are on our way back*
Oh that K**84, thrt
oh that F-84,
With 100$, she wont 9von fly*
The boys ¥ho fly in her are sure bound to die.
Oh that F~84> that ^_. oh that Fr84«
THE WHIFFENPOOFS
To the tables down at Moony1s,
To the place where Louie dwells,
To the dear old templed bar we love so well.
Sing the Whiffenpoofs assembled,
With their glasses raised on high,
And the magic of their voices cast a spoilt
Yes, the magic of their singing,
Of the songs we love so well,
Shall be waiting and carousing and the rest.
Wo will serenade our Louie
While life and voice shall end,
Then wefH pass and be forgotten with the rest,
We are poor little lambs v/ho have lost our way
Baa, Baa, Baa,
Gentlemen songsters off on a spree,
Doomed from here to eternity,
Lord, Jiave mercy on such as we,
Baa, Baa, Baa.
TRUCKBUSIER'S S0N3
(6?th Fight er^Bonfcer Squadron parody of fWhiffenpoof Song*1)
Busting trucks along the Yaluf
Blasting tanks along the Line,
It1s the Mustang, mighty Mistang, efery timet
We1re the men who fly those Mistangs*
Wefre the Red Scarf s, and we*re proud.
Sixty-seventh, head and shoulders ofer the crow&4
When those engines roar at daybreak:,
Every crew chief on the Line
Holds his head high as those Mustangs start to clink*
So we111 drink a toast to 'Red Scerfstf
And our life and love shall last,
We!ll not pass nor be forgotten like the rest*
CHORUS:
We are old fighter pilots and we1re here to stay,
And fly, flyf flyt
Si*ty~Seventh is the squadron that will always lead the way
(and we're always in the fray)
To fly, fly, flyt
Mustang pilots all, are we,
Fly any bird through Eternity*
So God have mercy on such as we,
Who fly, fly, fly#
-»Fr#n Qaptain Joseph Burke,
67th Fighter Bonfcer Squadron
V ^
THE COMMIE'S ILMSHT
Jk Tune -
"Clementine"
Once a flier do's or dies, in his faithful Sabre true,
;.fter bitching, flow a mission to the town of Sinanju.
Still in flight, he srw some mighty Cocmiie MIGs upon his tail.
With a quiver and a shiver, he let out an awful wail*
CHORUS:
Sayonrra, Sayoncrr, Sayonrra, ah so desu
If you find no, never cicri.*mVvI~'wi&L be an awful aoss*
Then a Mustang went in bur sting, just to see what he could JIq.
But alas, he made a pass, and that was allj they got hiia too.
Thought an '80: I'm so great, he'll never get a shot at no.
Wasn't gone long when his swan song sounded just like this to no«
CHOPOJS:
Sayonrra, Sayonara, Sayonrra, ah so desu
If you find me, never mind mej I will be an awful moss
Then a Thunder jot who hadn't blundered yet, thought he'd try it
alone•
Like a blotter, he hit the wato: , shook the hand of Davy Jones.
So the tally, in my alley, isn't quite like all the claims,
But as a fair course to the Air Force, we won't mention any names.
€
A man without a waxen,
Is like a boat without a sail,
Is like a boat without a redder,
Like a kite without a tail'*
A man without a woman
Is like a shipwreck on the sand.
But one thing worse in the universe,
It's a woman - I said a woman,
I moan, a woman without a jman*
For you crn roll a silver dollar
Across the brrroom floor.
It will roll, becruse itfs round*
A woman never knows what a good man shefs got
Until she turn him down.
Now Honey, listen; Now Honey, listen to mo.
I want you to understand
That c silver dollar goes teem hrnd to hand,
While a woman goes from man to man*
W^MlIM
Toll me why the ivy twines.
Tell me why the strrs do shine.
Toll me why the ocean's blue.
I'll tell you why,
It*s because I love you*
THE BLUES OP CHIHB/iE
Tune - "The Bluos in the Wight"
■tf
From Ghinhr.o to Pyongyang,
From Tagou to Seoul,
Whorevor our Mustangs go,
I've dropped me some napalm♦
I!vg fired mo six rockets,
But there is one thing I know,
The Chinese are two-freed .
A worriosome thing who111
Leave you to sing,
The Blues of Chinhao»
CHCRUS:
Hoar the Flak a~blownf
See the MIG's a-goin'
WILKW3ST, I crn't get my tanks off.
Well laddie, you've had it,
But'thoro is*one thing I know.
You can*t do a thing
But sit here and sing
The Blues of Chinhae*
Wo call into Mellow,
We thinks we are yellow,
But on to tho target we go.
The weather is stinkin*,
But there is one thing I know,
The 80*s can't do it.
They're bungling things
That Iodvc you to sing
The Blues of Chinhao.
CHORUS:
Up and doxra the Yrlu
Hear the pilots yelling - HEY YOUi
By order of MacArthur
We can't do a thing
But sit here and sing
The Blues of Ghinhae*
r~T[Continued on next page)
Wo call a controller#
He stents boating his molrrs*
His answer is "Stcnd by Please".
"I'm working some 84's.
I do wish they'd etirry more.
Thoyfro only firming the breeze.
They'll be through in v. minute
Then you crn come in
And do the right thing
For the Group fraa Chinhac."
CHORUS:
Coming down the Ifak-tong,
Pilots like to sing but one song.
I've finished my missions,
How let me go fishing.
But the first thin he does
Is cano in to buaz
The strip at Chinhaot
Now this ends my story
Of Feme and of Glory.
Together we've knovm hectic days*
We've had many good laughs,
The 18th rnd Sough AFf s,
RESERVISTS • LAMENT
(Done to the tune of fCigareets, ¥huskeyr and Wild* Wild Winmin1)
I was a civilian, and flew on weekends,
No sweat about clanks, and no sign of the bends*
They call me a * ret read1, as older I grow,
And they gave me a Kustang, it's old and it's slow,
CHORUS;
Sinuiiu, and Anak, and Anju and sifcnak,
They'll drive you crazy,
Td^yMi ta>e you insane*
Quad. 50 * a ar/3 2;0fs and 100 sorties
They111 drive you ape-spit,
They'll drive you insane *
0hf Once I was happy for I flew a jet,
At 35t000 how fat can you get?
But they sent me to Fellis for six weeks to train,
And gave me a Mustang, that sad aeroplane.
CHORUS: * Ifiomo mm efeo^c)
So I strafed and I boobed and I shot air~to~air,
Then off to Korea Ifm fouled up for fair*
I came to K~10 just to fly with the Group,
¥iy hair's turning gray and my wings have a droop*
CHORUS: (Same as above)
I flew my first mission and it was a snapp,
Just follow the leader and didfi't look at my map*
But now Pve got ninety and lead a sad flight
Go out on armed •reccies,' and canft sleep at night«
CHORUS* (Same as above)
Went up to Mig Alley S~2 said "No sweattw
If I hadnft looked 'round, I'd be up there yet,
Six Mgs jumped my fanny, the Leader yelled "Break}*
Sixty-one and 3,000 how my knees did shake,
CHORUSt (Same as above)
So if I live through a hundred and they ask for more,
1*11 tell'em to shove it my backside's too sore*
They can ram it and jam it for all that I caref
Just give me a Wing job, a desk and a chair*
CHORUSt (Same as above)
-JFrom Captain Joseph Bruke,
67th Fighter Bomber Squadron
M£ Force Magazine« August 1956* featured several ditties which
wiU no doubt be roneraberod by World War II airncn, and othors which
originstod during the Korean Action op which evolved fron songs
written earlier* An exrxiple of the tatter occurred when Amy Air
Force pilots in World Wcr I penned and sung "Beside A Belgian
Estaninet", to the tunc of ^The Dyins Hobo". Our counterparts in
World Wrr II retained tho music, but changed the title and words
to conforn with "Beneath A Bridge in Sicily"» Sadness found its
pernancnt hone in the shorter Korean version entitled "Beside A
Korean Waterfall", wherein the "Dying Hobo" still existed, but
became the "Frozen Chosen" variety. Here again, wo reprint for the
us& of all Air Force personnel.
V
"B-SIDE A B2LGIAH SST^ilHET11
Besides a Belgian 'stanine^,
When the snoke had cloarodjaway,
Beneath a busted Crnol,
A fighter pilot lay*
His throat was out by the bracing v/ire,
The tank had hit his head;-
Couching a spray of dental::Work,
These are the words that he said:
"Oh, I'n going to a bettor land-
Thoy jazz there every night$
Bourbon grows on the bushes,
So everyone stays tight*
"They've torn up all the calendars,
They've busted all the dc^eks,
And little drops of whiskdy,
Cono trickling down the rocks*"
The pilot breathed these last few words
Before he passed away:
"Now let no tell you how it happencd-
My flippers wouldn't stay*
"The engine wouldn11 hit lit all,
The struts wore far too fewj
A bullet hit the gas tank,
And the gas eano lading through.
"Oh," I'n going to a better land,
Whore the engines always run,
Where eggnogs grow on eggplants,
And the pilots grow a bun.
"They've got no Sops, they've got no Spads,
They've got no Flailing Fours j
And great bi,; frosted juleps,
Are served free in oil the stores•"
"BENBA1H A BRIDGE III SICILY"
Beneath a bridge in Sicily,
Ono cold and wintry day*
Boaide a busted fighter piano,
Its fomcr pilot lajri
His throat was cut by a bracing wire,
Tho gas tank had hit his hood}
And ho listened to those dying words,
His young observer said:
"We1 re going to a bcttci land,
Whore ovorything is bright}
Whore nonoy grows on bushes,
And you shack up every night*
"You never have to work at rll,
Not even to change your socks;
And little drops of whi§|coy,
Codo trickling down the frocks."
Then tho pilot nuttorod a last few words,
Boforo ho passed away; j!
"I'll toll you how it happened*-
Tho propeller ran &way*r
"The engine wouldn't hit at all,
Tho gas was far too few;
Then a bullet hit tho gas tank,
And tho gas cane leaking through•
"Oh, I'd going to a bettor land,
Whore engines always rua;
Whore eggnogs grow on eggplants,
And pilots grox^f a bun*
"They have no interceptors,
No Junkers thirty-four,
And groat big frosted juleps
Are froo in every store •"
(Continued on next page)
Tho observer said to tho pilot,
^ As heavenward they
flow,
** "How, when wo soo
Saint Peter*
I111 toll you whrt we'll do-
"We'll got ourselves scoe brand now wings,
And back to earth we'll fly;
And we'll haunt those lousy krauts,
Until the day they die.
n0h, we're going to a better land,
We'll 'jazz there every night,
And the cocktails grow on bushes>
So every one stays tight*
"Theyfve torn up all the calendars,
Thoy1vo bustod all tho clocks,
And scotch and rye and bourbon
Cone flowing down tho rocks #1f
"BESIDE A KOREAN WAT1SFALL"
Beside a Korean waterfall,
One bright and sunny day,
Beside a shattered Sabre,
A young pursuiter lay*
His prrachuto hung troa a nearby tree,
He was not yet quite dead,
So listen to the very last words,
The young pursuiter said;
"Pn going to a better land,
Where everything is rightj
Where v/hiskcy flows from telegraph poles,
And therefs vokct every night*
"There, there isn*t a single thing to do,
But sit oround and singj
And all the crews are woncn-
\N^ Oh, Death, where is thy sting?
"Oh, Death, where is thy sting?
Oh, Death, where is thy sting?
The bells of hell will ring ding-a-ling-
For you but not for net"
I
"dSGI JONSS"
Tho following World War %l ballad was the ccanon property of
B-17 crows of tho Eight Air Fferco, and was sung to the tunc of it's
then~prcsent nasao, "Casey Jones"*
Now, cone all you airraen if you want to hear,
The story of a taffcvc aviatogr*
Casey Jones was the pilot*s nano,
On a big four engine, boys, he won his fane.
When they worke 6&scy up it was black as sin,
Operations told fescy that the trrgetfs Berlin,
Casey could toll Tby the linos on th- nap,
That this was gonna' be his final lap*
CHORUS;
Casey Jonas, linos on the nap*
Casey Jonas, his final lap*
Casoy Jones, linos on tho nap-
Yes, this was gonna* be his final lap*
The najor said, "Boys, there'll be sono flak."
Casey could tell by this that ho wouldn't be baekj
Ho turned to his crew and this is what ho said,
"We're gonna« nakc it to Berlin but we'll all be dead."
Casey walked into the drying room,
Ho hollered for his clothing with an awful boon,
Tho sergeant know by the bastard*s groans,
That the nan at the counter was Casoy Jones*
CHORUS.:
Casey Jones, the nan at the counter*
Casey Jones, by his noans and groans,
Casey Jones, the nan at the counter-
Yes, the Lion at the counter was Casey Jones.
Casey took off an all he left was snoke*
He said, "I've got a present for the HE-^iWOLK.
Thoy nay got no but I?n hero to tell,
There'll be a lot of Nazis down in hell«tr
(Continued on next page)
The forned up over Buncher twenty-eight.
Casey could toll thoy were gonna1 bo late.
Ho called up the loader over VHF,
Said, "Wefd bettor hurry up or we'll all be loft."
CHORUS:
Casey Jones, we'd better hurry up*
Casoy Jones, or we'll all be left.
Casey Jones, wo* 4 better hurry up~
Ics, we'd better hurry up or we'll all be left.
Now Casey was flying in the diamond that day,
He said, "For the LUFK/1PM1 I'll be easy prey.
There's genua' be a decoration ceding to do,
But it'll be the iPurplo Heaitposthunously."
He took a burst of flak bott^een three and four*
Ho yelled, "That's all, brother. There ain't any nore."
They couldn't bail out so they rodo her in*
CHORUS:
Casey Jones, eouldnft bail out.
Crsoy Jones, they rode her in*
Casoy Jones, couldn't bail out-
Ho, thoy ccund't bail out so they rodo her in*
Fireball leader called to lellow Low.
Said, "See that awful sif;ht down there below?"
Yellow said; "I'll bet you hrlf a crown
That ho landed on the gunner that shot hin down."
CHORUS:
Casey Jones, landed on the gunner*
Casey Jones9 that shot hin down*
Casey Jones, landed on the gunner-
ies, he landed on the gunner that shot hin down.
The boys were awful sad that evening in the club*
They seened to think that sera one had flubbed their dub*
The colonel said, "Thore1!! bo no noro of this-
There's another crew waiting at the station in Diss."
r # ^
"TH3 SAG/ OF TIG SWiujE"
Tunc - i?Utah Crrl"
Heavy bonber non also cane up with IfTho Saga of tho Swede", ,
s*ung to the cowboy melody of "Utah Carl", which in the case of
personnel at Krdonr Air Bcso will be of interest only to certain
selected personnel in ferrying supplies and in providing weak
vocal competitive entertainment to the acconpaninent of a sanison
or Jew's Harp* (Editor's Notes This isjio reflection necessarily
upon other then fighter units using the sane club facilities,)
We wore going on a nission
And the Swede was on ny right,
When tho loader nrde a steep turn to the left*
Oh, the Swede ho racked it over,
And ho held it in there tight,
But he couldn't hold it there despite his heft,
Oh, the Jerries they did bounce hin
As ho foil off in a skid*
So I cut back ny four throttles
To go back and help the kicU
It was too late when I got there,
He was going down in flane,
And it!s lucky that I didn't get tho sane,
Oh, the Jerries they did bounce hin,
And I say this herrtfully,
If you, will fly your nissions
You must cut across your knee.
Now you all hrvo heard ny story?
It's tho Srga of tho Swede,
And jrou'll never make a stoop tarn
When you're flying in the load.
.4
*
"Down in the Vrlley" was the basis for the extremely
popular "Down the Ruhr Valley" of VJorld War II, and evolved
into the Kororn version of "K-14 Tower % Both are short *
and sweet, say little, but appear to have been concocted
for fighter pilots signing off following the rendering of
"Good Night5 Ladies"• With tho sano thought in nind, this
unofficial publication signs off with those two shorties,
and wishes you pleasant nelodies.
"DOWiJ THE HDHR VALLEY"
Dovm the Ruhr Valley,-
Valley so low,
Sono chair-borne bastard,
Said wo nust go.
qJX^
Flak loves big bonberq,
Fighters do, too,
p-51 boys,
Where arc you?
Write no a letter,
Sond it to no,
Send it in care of,
Stalag Luft Three*
"K-14 TCW3R"
K-14 tower,
I'm going in,
North of the airdrone,
Augoring in*
Call out your crash trucks,
Your nert wrgon, too,
Call out tho chaplain,
1*11 feeling so blue*
Take heed, Junior Birdnon*
This tale of ronorse,
An airplane can throw you,
As quick as a horse ♦