Thanks, as ever, for this, Lou. It's become part of Christmas for me. Blessings of the season be upon thee.
Oh that I was back in the dear old PBI.
With no more Triplanes on me tail, nor tracer tracing by.
And no more flames and clickerty-clack and no more blooming sky,
And only a couple of feet to fall whenever I want to die.
No. 56 Squadron Song