I don't know the story here, but this is a very powerful series of photos. My grandfather was a Pearl Harbor survivor, and his ship was kamikazied three years to the day after Pearl; all survived that, too.
I'm going tomorrow to the cemetery to put a flag on his grave. His birthday is Wednesday, so I'l slit the difference between Memorial Day and his birthday.
Paula, Thanks! Neat to see Uncle Herman's name there. But sad, too, isn't it? I think the author of the poem was killed in action himself later that year.
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Thanks for this post. I know Mama never forgot.
I don't know the story here, but this is a very powerful series of photos. My grandfather was a Pearl Harbor survivor, and his ship was kamikazied three years to the day after Pearl; all survived that, too.
I'm going tomorrow to the cemetery to put a flag on his grave. His birthday is Wednesday, so I'l slit the difference between Memorial Day and his birthday.
Thanks for this.
Great use of the space for an important memory.
Becky, found this on the internet.
OVER THE HORIZON
There’s a story that needs telling
Of our friends that don’t come back
Of the boys who’ve left our Hell Hawks
Of the comrades that we lack.
There was Britt and Tate and Eckart,
There was Peck and Poncho too.
Every one of them is gone now,
But their mem’ries follow through.
When the legends that will follow
Are all spun in years to come,
We will talk of these dead heros,
They who died to sink the Sun.
Was there ever squadron so gifted
As were we with Britt to lead?
Was there ever a squadron struck harder
By a more ill-fated dead?
A man loved as well as respected
From the low to high in ranks
To have known and followed this leader
Was an honor. We give our thanks.
Then of Tate we’ll all remember
How he grinned and laughed away
All the luck misfortune sent him
Up until that fateful day.
And of Eckart, unassuming
With his pipe and quiet way
Of the four who turned back forty
Its’ for Lee we stopped to pray.
Next of those whose names we honor
Was a boy in years and ken,
But he flew and fought a veteran;
Peck was liked by all his men.
There is naught but good to say now
Of the one shot down in flame.
All the oldest of the Hell Hawks
Will long honor Poncho’s name.
That’s the story needed telling
Of our friends who won’t come back.
There are others who are missing,
Other comrades that we lack.
There is Winnia and Spoede,
There is “Bluebeard” Votaw, too.
There’s a chance they’ll be returning
And we fondly pray they do.
Tho’ we’ve gotten 67,
And we’ve only lost these 8
And these 8 are all we’ve lost
We’d return the 67,
For not one is worth the cost.
_________________________________________ Brown
Paula, Thanks! Neat to see Uncle Herman's name there. But sad, too, isn't it? I think the author of the poem was killed in action himself later that year.
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