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!
The end