The Hump

I think about the Himalayan ranges of the north-east Inaccessible and treacherous, Full of mountains, hills, rivers, woods, gorges and valleys, Indeed the difficult terrains and mounds Which caused irreparable loss to the Americans While lifting the supplies for the forces During the World War As for the soldiers in China Fighting the Imperial Japan. Many an airman lost his life While ferrying across the mountainous and woody tracts, Stretching over a 500 or more impregnable tract; All those from distant America, Letting their parents and family members wait. As many as perhaps 700 planes perished in the adventure, Resulting in the death of some eighteen hundred perhaps in total, While flying over the hump with the loads of supplies, Reeling under and crashing over, deep into or over And traceless. None traced them, nor was it traceable The dense jungles with gorges and mountains, Hills and the manless aboriginal tribes-dotting areas, Thinly populated and misleading. Oh, those Americans! Still now the lost shoes and debris can be found Of those plane wrecks and accidents, The rusted fuselage telling the story What it happened to them long ago But there are no takers of that. The time-span covered that of 1942-45, All those which happened then While participating in the Great War, As a result of change in American policy, Endangering their precious lives.