Eastward they climb, black shapes against the grey
Of falling dusk, gone with the nodding day
From English fields.
Not theirs the sudden glow
Of triumph that their fighter-brothers know;
Only to fly through cloud, through storm, through
Night Unerring, and to keep their purpose bright,
Nor turn until, their dreadful duty done,
Westward they climb to race the awakened sun.
For further information on the loss of Flt Lt. Owen Chave
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning we will remember
them. - Laurence
All site material (except as noted elsewhere) is © 2012 - 2022 Aircrew Remembered and owned or managed by us
and should not be used without prior permission.
• Last Modified: 12 October 2019, 14:06 •