The Fighter Pilot
Poem By archie langford
In `39 when war begun I thought I`d fight the Hun,
So I left my job as a trainee chef,
And thinking `twould be my lot to become a fighter pilot,
I went along to join the RAF.
First I had to go before the MO,
He said, “Right fellow take your trousers off,
Let`s make sure your three piece sweet is all working and complete
His hands were freezing and they made me cough
The bit I liked the best was the intelligence test
The examiner said, “These questions sure are tough,
Tell me what`s one plus one”. I answered three for fun
He said, “You`re wrong fellow but you`re near enough”.
Then there came the training all the struggle all the straining,
The square bashing, all the bull shine, all the sweat,
But when it came to flying that`s when I came near to dieing,
When the pilot said, “This one you wont forget”.
He went into a stall that made my belly crawl,
He turned and gave me such a wicked grin,
Then he looped the loop and I felt me eyeballs poop,
And me low balls! what a state that they were in.
If he had flown two inches lower he`d have hit the bloody tower
I was screaming, “Take me down oh take me down”.
Then his next spin was so tight that me face went ashen white,
And me legs a nasty shade of chocolate brown
My heart ceased to pound when we touched the ground,
The pilot said, “ I`m not taking you again,
First you start to yell and then that bloody awful smell,
It`s going to take me a week to clean me plane”.
And so I was demoted and unanimously voted
Worst of all the second raters,
And so for me my war became one bloody awful bore,
Peeling simply millions of taters.