[Kitty]

LIGHTNINGS IN THE SKY
By a radio gunner before a mission over Italy


Oh, Hedy Lamar is a beautiful gal,
And Madeleine Carroll is, too.
But you'll find if you query, a quite different theory
Amongst any bomber crew.
For the loveliest thing of which one could sing
(This side of the heavenly gates)
Is no blonde or brunette of the Hollywood set.
It's an escort of P-38s.

Yes, in days that have passed, when the tables were massed
With glasses of Scotch and Champagne,
It's quite true that the sight was a thing to delight us,
Intent upon feeling no pain.
But it isn't the same nowadays in this game,
When we head north from Messina Straits,
Take the sparkling wine - and just make mine
An escort of P-38s.

Byron, Shelley, and Keats ran a dozen dead heats
Describing the view from the hills
Of the valleys in May, when the winds gently sway
An array of bright daffodils.
Take the daffodils, Byron; the wild flowers, Shelley;
Yours is the myrtle, friend Keats.
Just reserve me those cuties - American beauties -
An escort of P-38s.

Sure, we we're braver than hell; on the ground all is swell.
In the air it's a different story.
We sweat out our track, through the fighters and flak
But we're willing to split up the glory.
Well, they wouldn't reject us, so heaven protect us,
And until all this shooting abates,
Give us courage to fight 'em - and one more small item -
An escort of P-38s.