Phil Davenport

RAF navigator Ron Day and I took of from Banff, Scotland, I was in the RAAF, an Australian, and we flew in formation: 40 Mosquitos to attack German ships in Norway land, In a harbour, Porsgrunn, but then came an acclamation. “Bandits three o’clock! “, and so we did not strike a ship, But broke away left and flew ’til I spotted sand on a beach, But as i got closer realised it was Norwegian ice, no quip, So the landing damaged us, plane and all, but we did reach. After unjamming my leg, i paddled up to the surface, With relief saw Ron afloat in his life jacket, life raft burst; We felt mentally and physically numb and did brace, We struggled, but heard a man from a boat shout in lust. The farmers carried and cared for us, or cared for Ron, But they told me “Germans come,” so we left by a pony, I sat and shivered in the cart, then took a car to Oslo bon, Our uniforms were yellow stained by the lake, very shabby. We were then taken to hospital, but i ended up in prison, And on Monday the 30th of April 1945 Hitler killed himself, And we knew informally we were free, def by the elision, When a guard gently touched my back, himself to shelf. That was when the war in Europe was over for me, then, But we had to await official victory when RAF men came, However, before that, just to be sure, we left for the glen, ‘Cos the Luftwaffe general was contradicting the game. We got back to London and i left for Australia on Orion, And the celebrations would’ve lost control for alcohol, ‘Cos I’d found out that my brothers were alive and on: We birthed, the collective mind reacted, but not us all.