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Poetry of Direct Personal Experience
Our Collection of Aviation and Military Poetry

To a Polish Squadron

Gallants, who here patrol the sky

And strew the land with wreck of raiders.

There’s a refinement you might try

In your reception of invaders.


The German, itching to oppress,

With well-thought-out humiliation.

Says yellow patches on the dress

Must now mark out the Polish nation.


Accept the badge, then: at this time

Let every Pole show like his fellow,

And when to fierce pursuit you climb

Paint your avenging Spitfires yellow.


Gallants, a day will surely come

When you shall help to square the reckoning.

And though Fate’s judgement-voice stay dumb,

I think we see a linger beckoning.


Is it no sign when we are told

How you press home in mid-air battle

And almost to the shriek withhold

That deadly many-throated rattle?


Each of your triumphs earns a crown

Beyond what simple victory gives.

For when a German crashing down,

Men know – that Poland lives.

Stephen Gwynn


Sent via 300 Squadron Yahoo Group with thanks to Rodney Byles
polish squadron crests

original copy

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 • Last Modified: 26 May 2014, 08:14