Peter J White
Blitzkreig - Poem by Peter J White
Children sleeping in a shed deep under the garden clay,
Covered overhead with massive pine tree spars, as bombs rained
Ruthless down on London, heard thousands of our guns fall silent,
Unexplained! “Why? ” I whispered scared, my sister had no answer
Unknowing how that great warrior Churchill had agreed
Night fighters be deployed to stop the cruel armada, high
Above the balloons. A different duel now, with men the same breed
As themselves. But across the broad swathe of London sky,
Sombre and formidable, first in dozens then in hundreds,
Heinkels marched in dark battalions, flaunting the balkenkreuz,
Lit by London’s ring of fire, loosing an avalanche of cannon shell;
Drumfest of TNT’s murderous death-knell scything the streets.
Three nights we listened fearful, my sister and I, to the roar
And tremble, crash and smash, break and shake of Nazi’s proud
Might. Hearing only the distant rumble of battle as raw,
Naked searchlights swept in vain the pink underbelly of cloud,
Far above us in the moonless night. But we knew the blind
Whirlwind flail of machine guns was shredding our Blenheims.
Ah! But we were led by a man big enough to change his mind.
“Stand down the fighters, ” Winston said ordering General Pile
To recommence his mighty barrage, and sudden, radar controlled
AA guns reinforced ten-fold the wild, pungent cacophony while
Louder yet a million Londoners stood and cheered to claim
The victory as we hit back with pent up fury and with deadly aim.
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