Disused Airfield - 65 years on
(Nephew of a FEPOW)
The loose door flaps on rusted hinge. Forgotten paintings moulder to oblivion on the flaking walls and through the shattered panes the sadness of vanished laughter silently reminds me. This is where they all lived before death, where their last earthbound smile was seen; where their sadness, happiness, and love flamed and sputtered.
Now the dull, steaming cattle crop the wet grass where the aircraft waited - aircraft long burned and shattered in flaring, searing skies, and fields. Over 65 years have slipped away, whilst we, the living, are as these crumbling huts in a deserted field, ravaged by time.
Reflecting on the passing of our friends, Mungo, and Jimmy, Cobber, and young Tim, and so many more - and we were all so young. Through dangers to the heavens they flew from these quiet corners; now the lowing cattle linger amidst their shades.
Remember. lest we forget - For our tomorrow they gave their today.