This poem appeared in the October 1996 issue of the 489th Bomb Group Newsletter and is published here with the permission of Charlie Freudenthal.
To Bobak’s Crew
I never knew so many thoughts could last
As beautiful memories, these 50 years past.
The bad and the ugly are lost indeed,
It is only the good we want to heed.
There were practice flights before we began
To go into combat, flying into the sun
Supplies were dropped to those who chanced
A daring jump which Montgomery advanced!
We went to Kassel, Cologne, Osnabruck,
Scared each time when off we took
Knowing for sure not all would return – On every mission there was a lesson to learn.
Then Hamburg, Stuttgart, and, yes, “big B”
With the sky turning black from the flak you see.
We were a lucky bunch of “sons of guns !”
Protecting our wings were those P51s.
A couple of times there was a one-o-nine,
Seen in the distance, but kept in line
By our “Little Friends” flying so fast
While under their contrails we safely passed.
We were over the target, an engine was lost,
Got to continue, regardless of cost
Too late to go back, too late to abort
Then on our way home with a Mustang escort.
Our last mission is flown, and past the tower we roar
Buzzing the field like others before,
Announcing the end of our combat tour,
And our thanks given to God, you can be sure.
We visit now, by letter and phone,
We who are left, who as a crew had flown
Those missions of war in the long ago past,
Those good memories we know forever will last.
Morgan and Gannon, Carlee and Meyers,
Walt Bobak, Al Crist, two wonderful flyers;
Mickelson, Gregorzak, and Dick Wagner too…..
Who could forget such a wonderful crew!
(In memory of Walt Bobak, Collis Carlee, Dick Wagner and Art Meyers, wherever he is – Don Beck)