Saturday Oct 08, 2005

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From my mother's sleep I fell into the State,
And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,
I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.

-Randall Jarrell - The Death Of The Ball Turret Gunner
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
waitsforgodot:
yes, randall jarrell. beautiful, and succinct. I have thought of this poem now and then over the years, and despite its brevity, never been able to memorize it properly.

thank you, for quoting it.
minceir:
My dad was in Lancasters and Halifaxs doing WW2, he says that is pretty accurate. He was a Rear Gunner in Bomber Squadron in RAF in Britian.

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