The Spitfire

‘Scramble!’

‘Take the lead, Blue Leader,’

Spat the voice on the R/T,

While the ground crew pulled the chocks

Another plugged the battery,

Then the prop was turning over

And the Merlin roared to life

As the pilot, Michael Adams,

Kissed the picture of his wife!

 

They had only just been married

On a sudden 36,

They had just one night together

Then raced back to face the blitz,

She to work the board, the plotter,

He to fly, and do his best,

There were twelve of them together

Flying over Sheerness!

 

There were Dorniers and Junkers

Who were raiding from Beauvais,

There were Heinkel One-Elevens,

Also heading London’s way,

Then the R/T sprang to life again

‘Blue Leader, change your course,

There are Stuka’s bombing shipping

In the channel, off the coast!’

 

So the flight in V-formation

Turned to face the rabid Hun,

Climbed to 30,000 feet,

Were almost blinded by the sun,

But they ran into the Heinkels

And they peeled off and they dived,

And of thirty German bombers

Only seventeen survived.

 

Then the Messerschmitts arrived just like

A swarm of angry gnats,

And Michael had to loop and dive

To shake one off his back,

He pulled in close behind

A lagging Me 109,

Gave a seven second burst, and watched

The German hit the brine.

 

Jenny moved the counters as

Intelligence came in,

The Controller spoke in earnest

To the R/T microphone,

He relayed information

To the girls around the chart,

‘We’ve lost two Spits from Blue Flight,

Jimmy ‘D’ and Peter Sparks!’

 

Then Jenny bit her lip to keep

Composed all through the day,

She dreaded that her husband’s name

Be mentioned in that way,

She knew the odds were final

And that few of them survived,

Who took that burst of cannon shells,

Flipped over, burned and dived.

 

While out there in the universe

The everlasting sun,

Was busy flinging solar flares

At earth, as from a gun,

They magnetised the atmosphere

And swirled in colours bright,

Aurora Borealis

Also called ‘The Northern Lights!’

 

When Michael found his ammo done

He turned and left the fray,

He climbed and still he climbed

Until the Germans fell away,

He heard a voice start singing

In the silence all around,

It sounded like an angel

Or like Jenny, on the ground!

 

The daylight disappeared and he

Hung up there in his Spit,

The nose was in a climb, but it

Just floated, out of it,

The Merlin roared then sputtered

But it hung there in the air,

While swirls of brilliant colour

Tinged the atmosphere there!

 

While back at Biggin Hill the Spits

Returned about that time,

The crew expected ten, but when

They counted, there was nine.

‘It seems that Michael Adams

Has gone missing on the day,

Let’s hope he’s in the channel…’

Jenny wiped a tear away!

 

The years went flashing by her

And she visited her son,

And the grandson she adored

Who sat there playing with his gun,

But the paper lay there open

With a picture on page five,

Of a Spitfire that had landed,

And the pilot was alive!

 

‘Yes, I saw that,’ murmured Duncan,

‘And his name is just like ours,

He’s some nut who just flew in,

Said he’s from out among the stars.’

Then the widow Jenny started

And she said: ‘It just can’t be!

But why’s a Spitfire landing here

In 1983?’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Nirmala]

Most touched by this one. My father photographed Mount Everest (before the climb of Tensing and Hillary) from all sides from a Spitfire and these are some of the best photographs of that mountain. He always spoke of the amazing Spitfire!
Love the graphic account in the lines

And Michael had to loop and dive
To shake one off his back,
He pulled in close behind
A lagging Me 109,
Gave a seven second burst, and watched
The German hit the brine.

[Mark]

Another of those massive "WH-A-A-A-?!?" moments that are so nearly your trademark, David. I loved every word of it, but I feel an additional stanza or two might be called for to explain precisely WHY he opted for Heaven, rather than Jenny, when his gas and bullets were gone. Was he, in fact gotten by that final Heinkel, when "everything grew silent" and he thought he heard an angel, or Jenny? And then, by what machinations was he permitted to return, 43 years later? Classic Pagetian prosetry, Dave. Thanks

[Lena M. P.]

Excellent vintage writing with immaculate detail to the fighting back then. I think that is what makes your writing so special and believable is your attention to details surrounding your story. So when you do go off into the outer sphere it is almost like "maybe..." .

[Tate Morgan]

This phrase was absolutely beautiful

While out there in the universe
The everlasting sun,
Was busy flinging solar flares
At earth, as from a gun,

[R J Askew]

Great write, superbly told as usual. I am sure you walk around in you day to day life thinking in ballad 8s n 6s! You are the master of this form and of course this subject choice is just right for ballad treatment with the channel provinding a suitable whiff of ballardy brine.

[roarke]

Nice detail on all the old fighter planes. Those were the true days of flying, not all computerized and smart missiles. It's interesting how the horror of war can also be romanticized. But then it's about life and death.
There are a lot of strange stories from pilots of that time. This was a fun one to read. The romantic angle with the wife serving on the strategy board brought it all home. Sounds like it's a good source for more stories.

[Amila Jay]

Wow, Excellent write, like it a lot:-)