The Legend Of G.i. Joe

[lindylou]

THE FEATHERED G.I.'s

I was there amid the battle
As bars upon my cage did rattle
And I was lifted off my perch
To fly my mission!

A secret message was attached
Immediately to be disbatched
A call for reinforcements, STAT
Would save their lives -- As plain as that!

I was tossed into the air
The sun was high, the silence, rare...
Within my breast, how well I knew
What they expected me to do!
So like a bullet, off I shot,
To seek my homer's distant loft
Far beyond the enemies' lines--
I quickly set about my climb!

I took the air to 50 feet
When sounds of guns began to bleat
They had me now within their sights
I fast pressed on with all my might
When suddenly my wing was hit
I rolled from the shear force of it --
I now began a sick'ning plunge
As bullets all around did lunge!
But we are never birds that quit
When duty calls!
So deep within this heart of mine,
I lost all sense of space and time
I caught my balance once again and carried on....

Higher, Higher did I soar
Resumed my mission evermore
I cut the haze of misty clouds
That covered me within their shroud
And took me out of target sight
To swiftest flight!

With one thought only did I dash
Though searing pain both stabbed and lashed
As life was fading from my bones
My only thought was: "home!....home!"

I caught a current merciful
That carried me toward my goal
As I relaxed and drifted on
With heart determined!

I cannot say how long I flew
But for a certaintly I knew
When e're it t'was the place I sought
By kindly currents forthwith brought me--
tattered, bleeding to the place
So madly sought t'ward which I raced!

And as I made my slow decent
All strength of spirit from me went
I landed with a jolting crash
The thing that I remember last...
"Oh, my God! It's Crazy JOE!
Our fastest pigeon, don't you know!
He's banded with a message, see?"
He clipped the band from off of me,
"He's almost done fore, the poor chap!"
He lifted me toward his lap
Examined me with careful hands,
Then bore me forth....

Well, I was given greatest care
By Medic staff so stationed there....
They nursed me back to stable health
And gave me my OWN cote and shelf!
They said I was a hero brave
And 'een a metal they promptly gave
An honor of the highest degree
For wounded, tattered, little ME!
I do not understand the fuss
Men heap on homing birds like us!....
We do the things we live to do --
For on that day --
I rose!
I flew!....

-a poem by Lindylou in honor of all the pigeons (over 25,000) who gave their lives in 2 World Wars, flying secret missions of information, saving the lives of countless allied troops.