Dear Mother, It looks like the world is on fire,
And it doesnít seem right to sit by.
Thatís why Iíve enlisted to join in the fight
With the heroes who take to the sky.
You know that nothing would do for me
But to serve with the finest, of course.
So now I belong to a brave bomber crew
In the mighty Eighth Air Force.
Dear Mother, Thereís nothing to worry about.
We fly the great B-17.
I couldnít be anywhere safer than this,
Aboard such a rugged machine.
With all of the guns that she mounts nose to tail,
They call her the fort of the air.
We know that sheíll always bring us back home,
So you never need to be scared.
Dear Mother, We flew our first mission today.
We couldnít believe all the flak.
And when that was over things only got worse
With the Messerschmitts on the attack.
Our planes were going down left and right,
And the lead ship was starting to burn.
We landed with just a few holes in our wings,
But a lot of my friends wonít return.
Dear Mother, Our crew lost a man today.
It felt like a horrible dream.
I heard a crash like the end of the world,
And then an unearthly scream.
I looked around and the waist-gunnerís limbs
Were scattered all over the floor.
Never let anyone tell you the lie
That thereís any glory in war.
Dear Mother, With only five missions to go,
I hope Iíll soon see you again.
Itís hard to say what my chances may be:
They keep sending us back to Berlin.
We just do our jobs the best that we can.
God knows that weíve all had our fill.
I pray that I never make a mistake
That gets one of my buddies killed.
Dear Madam, Iím one of your boyís good friends,
And I have some sad news for you.
Today, over Dresden, his aircraft went down
With him and the rest of her crew.
We watched and we hoped that they might bail out,
But not even one chute could we see.
I promised to write if his number came up,
And heíd do as much for me.