From the Log of Lanc 159
July 25, 1992 Grand Opening Of The New Museum
The Vulcan Blackboard
1992 Contest (Fly With Charley Money)
Lots of Square Feet Still For Sale
Limited Edition Print Sales Support Society
New Museum Building Now Open
Calgary Chapter Completes "Operation Crystal Palace"
Ernie Oakman 1910 - 1991
Where are the Bombers
Where are the bombers, the Lances on the runway.
Snub nosed and roaring and blackfaced and dour.
Full up with aircrew and window and ammo.
And dirty grey cookies to drop on the Ruhr.
Where are the pilots, the navs and airgunners.
Wops and bombaimers and flight engineers.
Lads who were bank clerks and milkmen and teachers.
Carpenters, lawyers and grocers and peers.
Geordies and Cockneys and Wiltshire moonrakers.
Little dark men from the valleys of Wales.
Manxmen, Devonians, Midlanders, Scouses.
Jocks from the highlands and Tykes from the Dales.
Where are the Aussies, the sports and the cobblers.
Talking of cricket and sheilas and grog.
Flying their Lancs over Hamburg and Stettin.
And back to the Linclnshire winter-time bog.
Where are the fliers from Canada's prairies.
From cities and forests to win.
Thumbing their noses at Goering's Luftwaffe.
And busily dropping their bombs on Berlin.
Where are the Poles with their gaiety and sadness.
All with unpronounceable names.
Silently, ruthlessly flying in vengeance.
Remembering their homes and their country in flames.
Where are the Kiwis who left all the sunshine.
For bleak windy airfields and fenland and dyke.
Playing wild mess games like high cockalorum.
And knocking the hell out of Hitler's Third Reich.
The Lancs are no more, they are part of a legend.
But memory stays bright in the hearts of men.
Who flew them through flak and hellfire.
And managed to land them in England again.
The men who were lucky to see victory.
The men who went home to their jobs and their wives.
The men who can tell their grandchildren with pride.
Of the bomber which helped save millions of lives.