“Then outward bound they set, these Vikings of a new born age
To write fresh deeds of valour, with crystal pen on history’s deathless page.
In silver galleons they set out, Strange ships and wondrous men were these who plumbed the unknown starlit depths of God’s celestial seas.
True sons! Who’s ancestors in bygone days vanquished the Spaniards and his seaborne might
Young England’s sky born fleet set sail
‘Armada of a cloudless night’.
The winking stars in wonder watch as thro’ cloud and moonlit haze each silver ship sails gracefully by, past phantom caps and starfilled bays
The captain and the crew of each imbued with but one single thought.
Their England ne’er shall feel those chains, which alien hands have wrought
Tho’ well knowing as their gallant ships, the tempest fury brave
The harbour which perchance they’ll find lies yond silent grave
The Navy of the sky sails on! Their decks awash with cloud
Swift galleons of Celestial Seas of whom we’re justly proud.
Stern guardians of our Empire’s heart patrolling high above
how proudly do they sail – these ships out o’er the azure blue
well knowing that though many sail, those who return are few
We need no day, we earth-bound folk, no hour set aside in which to turn our thoughts to then and those of them who died!
No cenotaph need we erect to assist us to recall how many of those silver ships with gallant crews did fall!
Their memory shall be evergreen, bourne on the evening breeze
which murmurs softly o’er the world
Strange ships and wondrous men were these.”

– written by Sgt. A C Easton (SAF) as a tribute to those aircrew who didn’t make it.

Reproduced from my father’s POW diary.