Low Flight.
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Oh! I've slipped through
swirling clouds of dust,
A few feet from the
dirt.
I've flown the Aardvark low
enough,
To make my bottom
hurt.
I've TFRed the
desert,
Hills and valleys,
mountains too,
Frolicked in the
trees,
Where only flying squirrels
flew.
Chased the frightened cows
along,
Disturbed the ram and
ewe,
And done a hundred other
things,
That you'd not care to
do.
I've smacked the tiny
sparrow,
Bluebird, robin all the
rest,
I've ingested baby
eagles,
Simply sucked them from
their nest.
I've streaked through total
darkness,
Just the other guy and
me,
And spent the night in
terror,
Of things I could not
see.
I've turned my eyes to
heaven'
As I sweated out the
flight,
Put out my hand and
touched,
The MASTER CAUTION
light.
This paraphrase of a rather
famous Air Force poem was written
in Las Vegas by Capt Bill
Sadler, 390th TFS, Mt. Home, Idaho,
and a bunch of 'Red
Flaggers', including a contingent from the
509th in 1975. It was
subsequently published in Tac Attack.
(courtesy of Ed
McNeil)
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