Air Gunner

Air gunner My uncle Stan was a sergeant air-gunner on Wellington bombers during the Second World War, a tail gunner. He flew twenty-three missions over occupied Europe. Life expectancy of a rear-gunner ten missions. My Uncle survived the war. Engines roar Stench of burning oil In darkness heavy bomber rises. No moon or stars Only icy fear chilling the soul. Flying over white cliffs of Dover Gunners fire guns testing them Ready for German fighter planes Swooping like hawks Darting from darkness, guns blazing. Over Holland bomber joins other bombers Flying in formation towards Germany Searchlights seeking them Ack-ack shells lighting the night Trying to bring the bombers down. Fighter planes, like angry hornets sweeping in Bombers having reached Berlin Path-finders marking targets Below, vast raging sea of fire Hitler's punishment for London's blitz. Bomb-aimer takes control of bomber Guiding pilot over target Presses release plunger Bombs drop screaming Exploding factory making tanks. Bomber makes two runs Pilot turns for home, caught in searchlight Illuminated for fighter planes, gunners below Slowly bomber climbs beyond the light Damaged with enemy fire. Burning bomber reaches England Pilot dying, crew bloody and afraid Crash landing on airfield Rear-gunner pulled alive from his turret Weeping, thankful surviving another mission.