Operations Calling! Poem by David Bourne

'Clearing Black Section
Patrol Bass Rock,'

Leaps heart; after shock
Action comes stumbling;
Snatch your helmet;
Then run smoothly, to the grumbling
Of a dozing Merlin heating
Supercharged air,
You are there
By 'Z'.

Down hard on the behind
The parachute; you are blind
With your oxygen snout
But click, click, click, you feel
And the harness is fixed.
Round the wing
And 'Out of the cockpit, you,'
Clamber the rung
And the wing as if a wasp had stung
You, hop and jump into the cockpit
Split second to spike
The Sutton harness holes,
One, two, three, four,
Thrust with your
Hand to the throttle open…

'Operations'
called and spoken.