I stood on the railway platform
A lady took hold of my sleeve
‘I’m sure I know you from somewhere’
The train was preparing to leave
‘Are you from this town,’ she proffered
I gave her the name of my place
‘Old Frostie lives there. Do you know him?’
She hadn’t remembered my face
‘My Reg has set off for the Green Park’
The loco was gathering speed
‘I’ll do what I can to locate him ‘
I was watching her outline recede
The Royals had regally left us
I found Old Reg in the melee
Propped up by one of the Bronzes
Bewildered exhausted and grey
And when he enquired,’ Who are you?’
I thought it a bit infra dig
Not another one who doesn’t know me
Do they all think I’ve dropped off the twig?
He gathered his thoughts and remembered
Or perhaps he was being discreet
He’d hoped to meet up with his skipper
Who’d left for his VIP suite
We raised a toast in the ‘ Queen’s Larder’
Having made our way across town
To the fifty-plus thousand young fliers
Who had made the final touchdown
We drank to the Dutch, and the others
Who through us recovered their land
‘Twas the lads on the ground who won it
But we gave them a helping hand
The bronzes stand solemn and silent
Though they carry a knowing glance
Reflecting when bombers and fighters
Gave England her one fighting chance.
Navigator, W/O. Gordon Frost, who attended the unveiling ceremony 2012 and wrote this regarding the event. Submitted to Aircrew Remembered by his friend, Carol Clewlow August 2012. We hope that Gordon will be sending us information and perhaps photographs on his wartime career. We would be proud to place a veterans page in his honour.
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning we will remember
them. - Laurence
Binyon
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Last Modified: 26 May 2014, 08:06 •