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TAIL-END
ALBERT
by
© Harry Holmes (RAF)
Ah`ll tell thee a tale of young Albert,
What `e did up aloft all alone,
In t`tail of a Halifax bomber,
What went on a raid to Cologne,
T`ground crew `ad spent all the mornin,
In stuffin up aircraft wi' bombs;
T`crew put on all their warm clothin',
Young Albert 'ad two pair o' combs.
A comical
figure was Albert
By the time preparations were done;
E`d `is stick with it's `orses `ead `andle
To poke out through t`ole in `is gun.
'E `ad `elmet
and goggles and gauntlets,
Flyin` boots, fur lined suit 'n' Mae West,
`Is pockets `e'd stuffed full of `umbugs,
'E`d a large parachute on his chest,
When he tried
to get into `is turret,
`E were too wide to get through the `ole,
T`engineer Officer had to be summoned...
To lever `im in with a pole,
T`bomber took off rather sudden,
Young Albert was sortin` `is gear,
When turret floor came up 'n' hit 'im,
An `ell of a clout on his ear!
When bomber
was o'er the target,
Young Albert came too wi' a start,
For a sample from Krupps works at Essen
`ad `it `im in tenderest part!
This were
not altogether surprisin'
For as soon as the bombing began,
The `ole of the German defences,
Was chuckin up muck by the tonne,
At that moment
up came a night fighter,
Alberts mouth became suddenly dry,
So `e popped in a bloody great `umbug,
Shut `is eyes, took aim and let fly.
Pilot shouted,
"What's 'e doin' at backend?"
When 'e `eard gun go off like a blizzard,
In reply Albert did nowt but gurgle-
`Umbug `ad stuck in `is gizzard,
`E kept firin`
`is gun at the fighter,
While 'e coughed and endeavoured to talk,
When all of a sudden the `umbug
Shot out of `is mouth like a cork!
Jerry pilot
were all unsuspectin`
Of missile approachin` its goal,
T`umbug then struck `im on t`side of 'is noddle,
And `is aircraft fell out of control.
"Oh good
show!" said `is pilot to Albert,
"There ain't no gunner like thee,
And when we get back to the airfield,
Ah`ll give thee an egg for tha tea."
But when
they got back they discovered,
That there weren`t any eggs to be `ad,
So they went to consult the Group Captain,
As to `ow to reward the brave lad,
D.F.M it
were not thought sufficient,
They were all in a bit o` a jam,
'Til at last they decided to give `im,
A lovely great plateful of Spam!
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