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The following poems are dedicated to All who served on the Berlin Airlift


(C) 1988 Joseph Werner

Engines roar in the Berlin sky, from planes that aren't there,
It's the eternal echo of the Airlift that proved the free-world cared.
Roads were blocked to West Berlin and trains to there held still,
Starvation, cold and outright despair with freedom its intent to kill.
Mothers sighed, children cried, and fathers didn't know what to do,
World War 11 just ended and the blockade come out of the blue.
Would the free-world countries help them or would they fade away,
Was the thought of West Berliners, as the hours ticked away.
Their question was soon answered by Americals General Clay,
He ordered the Berlin Airlift to begin without delay!
Millions of Berliners for a year and more were flown survival needs,
Planes flew tight through day and night - an 'Air Bridge' to accomplish the deed.
They were flown by daring "PEACE WARRIORS" who knew their life could end,
But the PEACE WARRIORS were willing to take the risk - to help their new found friends.
The blockade finally ended with West Berliners' freedom in tact,
Thanks to many determined Germans; English; French and Americals Mighty MAT*
*United States Military Air Transport

(c) Angelo Rivera

June of '48, all roads to Berlin Cut off with a blockade.
Two and one half million souls in need of immediate aid.
 Evil Forces bent on Destruction, havoc and dismay
 Silence holding rein Over barge, railroad and highway.
Rushed into the breech Great numbers of C-47's and C-54's with creature
necessities pouring fourth From gaping cargo doors.
 Pallets heavy laden with Milk, flour, and coal Battling weather and fatigue
 With ever increasing tonnage as it's goal.
 Dedicated airmen, unrelenting and Vowing to keep up the fight.
 Great wings fly around the clock with Templehoff
runways coming into sight
 West Berliners fearing not of labor or-
 Ever present aching pain-
Willing shoulder lifting, tugging, through Heat,
snow, cold and drenching rain.
 Thundering engines, stacks glowing with Flame,
sounds of beating throbbing power Long passing into History,
The Berlin Airlift's Finest Hour !

Lord! Yesterday was fifty years ago
Just where did the time Ö just where did it go?
I didnít realize Ö I didnít know.
But then, thereís the mirror. The ravages show
I remember Ö really remember
That rainy Ö muddy, wet September,
The October fog and chill December
And ... Oh Lordy!  Do I remember?
There were some nights when I was terrified.
Many!  Nights, when I made my Berlin ride.
Exhausted! But that certain squadron pride
Pushed! ... No, tugged me to nearly suicide.
NO!  Not of self-destruction Ö Not for me.
It was the bird ... my bird ... my tired beastie,
And few parts to fix my flying debris,
My plane ... my comrade ... my coal-streaked Lady.
Day in Ö day out ... and nights, we made the trip;
Dirty and tired ... coal, flour, and straining ship;
Ice and fog ... FEAR ... oil and fuel, drip, drip, drip,
And my final SQUEECH ... SQUEECH on Fassberg strip.
Lord!  Yesterday was fifty years ago
And where did the time ...  just where did it go?
I didnít realize ... I didnít know.
But then ... thereís the mirror.  The ravages show.
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