The Flight Before Christmas

Twas the flight before Christmas, and all of my squad
was cross-checking maps or conferring with God.
The bombs were all slung from our pylons with nuts
In hopes that we might soon kick Flying Pig butts.

The plans were just perfect. Their timing-- exquisite.
Wouldn't the Golds be surprised by our visit!
Our plan was extensive, its details exacting.
The scums would be snoring as our bombs were impacting.

It was time to get going. We got in our planes
as visions of para-bombs danced in our brains.
It was going so smoothly, just like our rehearsals.
We spurred on our aircraft, and left our dispersals.

When out of the tower there rose such a chatter
We swiveled our heads to see what was the matter.
We saw in the distance, the sky was now flecked
where 'ere there'd been air there the last time we'd checked.

We blew through our checklists and sped up our taxi
while watching the dot grow from mini to maxi.
We were starting so early -- just after sun-up,
we'd not thought of a CAP, much less sent one up.

And what to our wondering eyes should appear,
but an olive drab sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little sleigh-driver, so lively and quick,
"good GOD, boys, it's SANTA -- attacking F6!"

Inside of our aircraft, our arms flapped like pheasants
as Santa zoomed over, dispensing some presents.
We'd almost gained flight when his parcels of thunder
hurtled right through and tore B flight asunder!

HOST: Kill of -unfg- awarded to stnick
HOST: Kill of -ozds- awarded to stnick
HOST: Kill of -zath- awarded to stnick
HOST: Kill of ikeelu awarded to stnick

He'd killed half my squadron, that jolly old elf.
Reducing our plan to "each man for himself!"
Half of the boys had been instantly plastered.
The other half itched now to whack that fat bastard.

We had him down on the deck-- my, how we chased him!
Frenzied and angry -- eager to waste him!
But, as we got closer, he let loose a shout:
"Reindeer Composite Wing! help St. Nick out!"

Just then we saw that our caution'd been lacking
As out of the sun, we saw deer were attacking!
Faster than Lightnings his Corsairs they came,
and as we evaded, he called them by name...

"On dasher, on dancer, on prncer, on vixen-
I'm dragging 4 Wildcats-- come get your licks in!
Now cupid-, and donder and bltzen and comet-
Watch out for the ack, while I circle to bomb it!"

Blazing in quickly, his reindeer were coming
screaming in streaks of blue, Wasps hotly humming
So instantly did they respond to his summons
their Chance-Voughts by chance fought our unprepared Grummans.

The giving was festive, and mercifully brief
The reindeer brought mayhem -- a bounty of grief
for those who fell trembling with chattering teeth
with multiplied purpose for the squad's Christmas wreath.

I bailed and I lit on a moonscape of ruin
Our hangars lay twisted! The Greenfolk were booing!
Santa had bombed us... his reindeer had vulched us.
They'd not only mown us-- they damn nearly mulched us!

The sleigh flew n orbit and gathered its team
Its mission completed-- the target was creamed.
And Santa yelled down as he flew out of sight,
"Alfa Mike Foxtrot! That's code for 'Good fight!'"

 

Copyright 2001 The Dweebs of Death. All rights reserved.
Warbirds is a trade and service mark of I Enterntainment
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