You know. Regardless of what or where you flew.
To all the crews, regardless of service… We came through safely, unlike others.
Nobody Asked Me…
Veritas nos liberabit
You know. Regardless of what or where you flew.
To all the crews, regardless of service… We came through safely, unlike others.
In memory of my stepfather, Captain Ralph B Chrismon,1929-1997. US Army veteran; four decades as a commercial pilot. If you painted stripes on a brick, Captain Chrismon could make it fly.
And at the end, he came in on a wing and a prayer.
Great poem. Our families had no aviators that I am aware of. Thank all of the persons who delivered persons and materials of war while putting themselves at great risk themselves.
Excellent post! Thanks!
juvat
Terrific, right up there with “High Flight” by John Gillespie Magee Jr.
Thanks for sharing. My dad was a USAF fighter pilot.
Pat- Well said!
jrg- Amen!
Juvat- You know…
Jim- You are most welcome.
Most excellent poem. Some miserable days and nights, weird and unsettling missions, now loath to fly on commercial airplanes.
On the other hand, nothing like spending summer nights at remote Saudi airfields, throwing a frisbee that had mini-chem lights taped underneath. Or sharing a MRE meal with a stray Saudi dog that had wandered into camp. Rollerblading down the hotel halls in Aviano Italy.
The end results were so fulfilling and I’m blessed to still be in the field, supporting some of the best pilots, operators, and sailors that we have. Many folks didn’t stick around, and a few never made it to the “engine shutdown/post-flight checklist”.