"Our Crew December 18, 1944

"Our Crew December 18, 1944

A poem about the loss of Halifax, WL-U.
A second sheet states 'Written by Dale Plante niece to Allan Kurtzhals'.

2004-12

One printed sheet

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SJonesHB1866363v10044, SJonesHB1866363v10045

“Our Crew”
December 18, 1944
Young men, boys almost, should truth be told,
Joined up, trained, shipped out; the goal was bold.
There was evil to end; no patience, let’s rush,
We’ll do a job, Freedom must not be crushed
In England, Belgium, and Holland to name a few.
That is what held them, what made them a Crew.
First night, first flight, first op, first bombs gone,
Corkscrew, go! Left! Left! Stars, maps, onward home.
Night after night their strength, their skill, all caring
Spent again and again. Knew they were sharing
The sky, the very heavens, aloft with friends, others
Lost to wives, sons, daughters, fathers, and mothers.
Our Crew, our seven, carried the fight. In the morn
On WL-U, Halifax Bomber, more heroes were born.
They wished only peace in the beautiful place,
But together they fell, craft broken, through space.
For their loved ones, for us, they were all in accord
Allan, Harry, Divy, and Herb, Jim, Leslie, and Gord.
There’s a place, here and there, through the sky, over sea,
Where beautiful people of Belgium still live. Now we
Know of their long lasting love for our Crew,
A stele crafted with care, beside maples that grew.
Such remembrance, such love, such respect for our own
On Dailly Road, by green fields, under blue dome.
Leopoldsburg place, and Croft Aerodrome,
Where our boys lived and now rest feel like home.
The bluebells of Yorkshire – they saw them there.
But the bluebells of Belgium – they knew not where.
Now rhodos in number, wonderous hues of all kind,
Background to dear headstones in May-time we find.
English hearts still remember young spirits did fly.
In York Minster, the Book, the Monument high,
Their names are scripted, each one on a page.
Fond memory is captured, their youth cannot age.
We remember these boys, these young men in blue,
Each December eighteen. For they are … our Crew.
Dale Plante, December 2004
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WRITTEN BY DALE PLANTE NIECE TO ALLAN KIRTZHALS