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OUR JIM
by
Pte. Miller, 10th West Yorks. Regt.

Another Heinkel hit the dust,
Or rather hit the sea,
Good shooting on our Jim's part, folks,
I think you will agree.
The Sergeant cried: 'Cigar or nuts?'
Said Jim, 'I want no prize.
This bomber I intend to fly—
That is, if she will rise.'
He duffed his clothing in a flash,
And swam out with a crawl,
He dumped the Nazis overboard,
Then did an overhaul.
'Come back! Come back!' the Sergeant cried,
'I fear that you'll be wrecked.'
Said Jim: 'Please don't distress yourself,'
Or words to that effect.
He flew to Berlin right away,
Then hovered over Munich.
By way of extra camouflage,
He donned a Nazi tunic.
He landed in the castle grounds;
Arrived in time for lunch
With Hitler, Goering, Goebbels, Hess
And all that nasty bunch.
Asked Jim, 'You blokes would like a flight?'
They answered, 'Ya! Heil! Hoch!'
Said Jim, 'Well hurry. Shut your mouths,
Or in them put a sock!'
He shot his bomber up aloft
And o'er the North Sea sped.
'Turn back!' they screamed.
But Jim just laughed,
'Cheer up, you'll soon be dead.'
He landed them at Gravesend,
A name that does sound grim.
His Colonel cried, 'Well done, my boy,'
Which did embarrass Jim.
'A VC you deserve, my lad,
For capturing these mutts.'
But Jim said: 'Sir, I'd much prefer
A few cigars and nuts.'

 
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