AERIAL GUNNER

He wears a pair of silver wings
Along with a host of other things
Coveralls of green or brown
Filled with zippers, knees bagged down.
His "Hot Rock" jacket leather brown,
Lists rank, name, number, state and town,
Organization, number of missions
Pictures of girls in odd positions.
His cap, a long billed sporty job,
Adorns his bobbing , swelled up knob.
His wrists and fingers are laden down
With jewelry that he sports around.
He comes into the Army, green
Filled with rumors of latrine.
He wanders thru a gunnery school
And graduates a shooting fool.
A PFC he groans and gripes
Until he gets his Sergeants stripes.
He's now a "B.T.O." for sure
So he swaggers into a liquor store.
He goes out early, comes in late
For a gunner likes to celebrate.
Wine and whiskey, a girl on his arm
Hie thinks no girl can resist his charm.
Just ask any gunner and he'll tell you
That the lads that fly in the beautiful blue
Are first in courage, first in fight
The aerial gunner is always right.
Finis

By T/Sgt Raymond Crabtree
(deceased)