I’m not a guy for talking big, I’m not inclined to strut
My stuff around, pretending I’m some kind of tough guy, but
What was a Yankee boy to do in nineteen-forty-four,
When Uncle Sam said, “C’mon kid, it’s time to go to war”?
I joined the Four-fifteenth to fly on missions ‘cross the Rhine,
Our airfield was at Dijon but our target was Erstein –
Well I just made the best of it, got used to flying nights,
But then the darnedest thing occurred – these crazy, spinning lights!
Ed Schleuter saw the first one on November twenty-six,
We told him to report it, but he shook his head, said “Nix
On that. They’ll tell me I’m a fool or say that I was drunk.”
And Ed was quite a pilot, not some crummy, two-bit punk!
Then one-by-one we all began to see them, bright and red,
Sometimes beside us, keeping close, and sometimes dead ahead;
Some guys were all for chasing them, some other guys were scared,
But no one would back down from them – yep, all our pilots dared!
One night I flew right after one – it kept on getting higher –
I thought of Smokey Stover and his “Where there’s foo there’s fire”.
I punched my PTT and hollered, “Hey, I’m on the trail
Of one of those Foo Fighters… yeah I’m sitting on his tail!”
Then suddenly it banked to right, began to climb real fast –
Too quick for me – into the clouds and out of sight at last.
So when I came to land at Dijon, well, I cursed my luck,
But that nickname I gave them, “The Foo Fighters” kinda stuck.
We thought they were some Nazi trick, but they did us no harm,
So we just let them fly with us, forgot we’d felt alarm;
The Krauts with all their Messerschmitts and Heinkels were enough
To keep us busy flying – yeah, things did get pretty tough.
But when the war was over and I tried to find out more,
The War Department stonewalled me, and pushed me out the door.
Then rumours started – Commies! – Little men from outer space!
My guess is people were just scared about the H-Bomb race.
I’m getting old, I’ve heard it all, I’ve seen it all, and so
There’s really nothing more that I can say before I go.
Let’s hear it for the four-fifteenth who made the Rhineland flights,
And yeah – why not? – the Foo Fighters, those crazy, spinning lights!
My stuff around, pretending I’m some kind of tough guy, but
What was a Yankee boy to do in nineteen-forty-four,
When Uncle Sam said, “C’mon kid, it’s time to go to war”?
I joined the Four-fifteenth to fly on missions ‘cross the Rhine,
Our airfield was at Dijon but our target was Erstein –
Well I just made the best of it, got used to flying nights,
But then the darnedest thing occurred – these crazy, spinning lights!
Ed Schleuter saw the first one on November twenty-six,
We told him to report it, but he shook his head, said “Nix
On that. They’ll tell me I’m a fool or say that I was drunk.”
And Ed was quite a pilot, not some crummy, two-bit punk!
Then one-by-one we all began to see them, bright and red,
Sometimes beside us, keeping close, and sometimes dead ahead;
Some guys were all for chasing them, some other guys were scared,
But no one would back down from them – yep, all our pilots dared!
One night I flew right after one – it kept on getting higher –
I thought of Smokey Stover and his “Where there’s foo there’s fire”.
I punched my PTT and hollered, “Hey, I’m on the trail
Of one of those Foo Fighters… yeah I’m sitting on his tail!”
Then suddenly it banked to right, began to climb real fast –
Too quick for me – into the clouds and out of sight at last.
So when I came to land at Dijon, well, I cursed my luck,
But that nickname I gave them, “The Foo Fighters” kinda stuck.
We thought they were some Nazi trick, but they did us no harm,
So we just let them fly with us, forgot we’d felt alarm;
The Krauts with all their Messerschmitts and Heinkels were enough
To keep us busy flying – yeah, things did get pretty tough.
But when the war was over and I tried to find out more,
The War Department stonewalled me, and pushed me out the door.
Then rumours started – Commies! – Little men from outer space!
My guess is people were just scared about the H-Bomb race.
I’m getting old, I’ve heard it all, I’ve seen it all, and so
There’s really nothing more that I can say before I go.
Let’s hear it for the four-fifteenth who made the Rhineland flights,
And yeah – why not? – the Foo Fighters, those crazy, spinning lights!
Author notes
Only a little license has been taken with historical fact; and of course where I mention "Foo Fighters" I am referring to the phenomenon, not the band.
In a list
A contest entry
- Band Names Contest!! by XXirishroseXX.
600 points, ended April 5, 2008, 5 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 10 of 10
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You are a story teller extraordinare, I love it when you add things I can learn too. All this and in a wonderful verse.
Love,
Amera

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Thank you, honey. I seem to be doing a lot of these story-telling ballads lately.
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very interesting poem, I really liked it! I must admit, though, I've never heard of Foo Fighters EXCEPT for the band...I always thought foo was a made up word.
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I aim to be educational

I'm glad you liked it.
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Fun write, but I must confess I've never heard of either the band or the phenomenon. Yeah, I know, where have I been?
Bill
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The band is totally bitchin' (originally formed from the ashes of Nirvana), and only you know where you've been, Bill. Thanks for dropping by here.
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well done Mairi. enjoyed this here read. Thanks for making me grin. Especially your comment below...must be bored?? No way he likes to stay on great poetry and this one here is one of them/
Glad to see you on hon,
Love
Tory

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Thank you kindly, Tory.
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You really are in song mode!
I am filling up with Mairi tunes, fantastic, keep it up please!

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My, my - you must be bored if you're following me and dropping coments before the ink is dry!

I'm actually trying to get OUT of this rinky-dink ballad frame of mind, y'know.
But thanks.
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1 - 10 of 10






