The Tempsford Special Duties Squadrons

 

Aerial views of Tempsford Airfield in the 1940s

A DESERTED AIRFIELD

In mists of dawn I lie here still
Abandoned long to nature's will.
My buildings bare, my people gone,
The only sound, the wild bird song.

My mighty birds will rise no more,
No more I hear their engines roar
And nevermore my bosom feels
The pounding of their giant wheels.

The ageless hills from echoes cast
Of armadas from the past.
Now stilled in lonely reverie
Their great dark wings sweep silently.

Laughter, sorrow, fear and pain
No more to know these things again.
Emotions that I came to know,
Of those young men so long ago.

Who knows when evening shadows meet,
Are they still here, the phantom fleet.
Do ghostly crews still rise and roam
Above my face that was their home?

Now weeds grow high, obscure the sky;
Remember them as you pass by.
May gratitude with you abide,
For what you have.....is why they died.

Based on a memorial verse at the deserted base of RAF East Kirkby, Licolnshire.
W. Scott (ex air gunner) 630 Squadron.