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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365736" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Gremlin!</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">He was posted to Squadron 74<br>With ten hours flying time, <br>He knew that he needed a hundred more<br>Or his life was on the line, <br>For Biggin Hill was a shambles then, <br>All craters and UXB's, <br>As fast as they ferried the Spitfires in<br>They were beaten down to their knees.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They were hit with Junkers 88's<br>And Dornier 17's, <br>They came in high and they came in low, <br>Like a swarm of angry bees, <br>They got the workshops, hit the stores, <br>In an all-out, mass attack, <br>While Michael Shaw bit his lip, and swore<br>He was going to get them back.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For a week or so he was on patrol<br>In a Spitfire group of six, <br>Learning how to control the beast<br>As he pulled back on the stick, <br>The leader taught him to watch his wing, <br>And keep his back to the sun, <br>To roll away to avoid the spray<br>From an ME 109.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Don't waste your ammo, just get your sights<br>Fixed firm on the guy ahead, <br>A burst, three seconds of cannon shells<br>Is enough to see him dead.<br>Follow him down to confirm the kill<br>But watch for the one on your tail, <br>If you're not too quick, and you feel you're hit, <br>Pull back on the stick, and bail.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the second week, a Dornier<br>Flew under his starboard wing, <br>Like a graceful pencil, floating there<br>Like a bee that had lost its sting.<br>He peeled away and he fired a burst<br>That ripped it like tinsel foil, <br>But smoke had bloomed as the fire consumed, <br>And all he could smell was oil.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'You're blooded, ' bantered the guy in Ops., <br>'You're buying us all a drink! '<br>They party'd hard at the mess that night<br>So they wouldn't be forced to think.<br>For every kill was a young man's life<br>Though it wasn't for them to mourn, <br>And for Michael Shaw it was all-out war, <br>The reason that he'd been born.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He got three Junkers 88's<br>And thought that he'd gone to heaven, <br>The very next sortie out, he claimed<br>A Heinkel One Eleven; <br>'They shouldn't be over, bombing us, <br>We give as good as we get...'<br>But his eyes were tired and his mind was fired<br>With the kills that were out there yet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His Squadron claimed three 109's<br>That were shepherding bombers in, <br>While Michael took two Junkers out, <br>But his mind was beginning to spin, <br>For out on the edge of his starboard wing, <br>He thought he saw something move, <br>He turned his head in a moment's dread, <br>Then felt he had nothing to prove.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He must be tired, he shook his head<br>To get all the cobwebs out, <br>But there was the shape on the starboard wing, <br>Once more, this time, no doubt.<br>A terrible creature with tapering ears, <br>Sharp teeth and an evil grin, <br>And a long, long tail, that was wrapped around<br>His starboard aileron.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He tried to bank, the stick was held<br>Rock solid, and stuck in its place, <br>He could only climb or dive, not roll<br>Nor peel away with grace, <br>He dived on down through the covering cloud<br>Right over an azure sea, <br>Then he glanced again at his starboard wing, <br>There was only a mystery.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At Ops he sought out the Group Captain, <br>And cleared his throat to speak, <br>'I must be tired... but sir, I swear...'<br>Then he looked down and shuffled his feet.<br>Could he dare to mention the thing he'd seen, <br>Would they think him raving mad? <br>The Group just patted his arm, and said: <br>'Well, it can't be all that bad! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I saw this thing, out on the wing, <br>I couldn't believe my eyes...'<br>'Oh yes, well Shaw, you'd not be the first<br>To hallucinate in the skies.<br>You've had an attack of the 'Gremlins', son, <br>It happens, you'd better just rest, <br>Get them to check out your oxygen, <br>It's part of the pre-flight test.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A week went by, he scored more kills, <br>A Heinkel, a 109, <br>He thought the thing had been just a blip, <br>A sign of a tired mind, <br>But then, just after he pulled away<br>From firing a steady burst, <br>A face peered in at the cockpit shield, <br>A face that was more than cursed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It seemed to cling quite effortlessly<br>With the help of its long, sharp claws, <br>It bared its teeth in a grin of sorts, <br>And saliva dripped from its jaws, <br>Its eyes were narrow, like tiny slits<br>As they squinted right through the screen, <br>And its tongue was forked, flicked back and forth<br>As Michael sat back, and screamed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He dived, went into a barrel roll<br>Thinking to shake it free, <br>A Messerschmitt 109 was there<br>To compound his misery, <br>It rolled and followed him down, and then<br>A burst tore into his tail, <br>He had no choice, pulled back the stick, <br>Opened the hood, and bailed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They found him out in an open field, <br>His parachute lay nearby, <br>They drove him back to the aerodrome<br>But they couldn't look in his eyes, <br>Like tiny slits, they peered in hate<br>And his tongue just wouldn't sit still, <br>He said: 'Just get me an aeroplane...<br>I have to go out, and kill! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=David+Lewis+Paget">David Lewis Paget</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365736" data-title="Gremlin! de David Lewis Paget" data-description="He was posted to Squadron 74
With ten hours flying time, 
He knew that he needed a hundred more
Or his life was on the line, 
For Biggin Hill was a shambles then, 
All craters and UXB's, 
As fast as they ferried the Spitfires in
They were beaten d..."></div>
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