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S/Sgt. Walker L. McNutt
721st Squadron

Walker at Peterson Field, Colorado Springs - 1944

Walker in Rome - June 1944

Standing left to right: S/Sgt. Walker L. McNutt, Clemmie D. Hunt, and Franklin R. Albiston
Kneeling left to right: Eugene F. Meehan, Sgt. Floyd A. Gill and Walter Gomer


I sit here and think of bygone days,
Some were sad and some were gay.
There are those we won't forget as long as we live,
For on those occasions our buddies gave all they had to give.

I won't forget when our crew first met;
We still haven't forgotten that yet.
It was at Peterson we first got together;
Later to find we'd be friends forever.

We went through the phases and were almost tops,
And then we were ready for the big hop.
When we left Topeka, we knew this was it;
For we were out to do out bit.

We landed in South America and there was plenty to see;
With a new plane we were as proud as anyone could be.
Then we hopped the Atlantic, a long hard trip;
But we were out to beat anything there was to whip.

We stopped in Africa, a strange and desolate place,
But nothing could lick us at this stage of the race.
We stayed over night for a much needed rest,
Up the next morning ready to give them out best.

We headed for Italy and wondered as we crossed the shore
What this place for us held in store.
There at our destination we were all a bit shaken,
For we were afraid that our plane would be taken.

We suffered our first heartache as our ship was lost,
But we couldn't argue for we weren't boss.
If we had been boss, you can bet
We would have been flying that ship yet.

There we had to part with buddies on other crews,
For they had fields of different areas for them in view.
We arrived at our field one Sunday night
And heard lots of disheartening stories about the fight.

We settled down and were ready to begin
And prayed that this phase would not mean our end.
Our crew was split for the first mission or two,
And we missed each other to be true.

Together Al and I flew the first one;
To be sure it was no milk run.
We were plenty scared I know;
This was no practice mission but the real foe.

Then we started flying as a crew,
A little bit more comfort I knew.
With Lt. White at the wheel
At ease we all could feel.

Lt. Funderburk was in the copilot seat;
We knew we would come through regardless of the heart.
With navigation Lt. Coen was boss,
And we didn't have to worry about getting lost.

John dropped the bombs with a switch and sight;
His accuracy made the Jerries sit tight.
There Al was in the engineer seat;
He could do things to a 24 that was really a feat.

Homer would sit in the front stand and
Keep the fighters on the nose well in hand.
With Gene in the ball and the best that hails
He could make any 109 turn his tail.

Having Gill in the tail, we couldn't forget
The best tail gunner they have made yet.
Clemmie was the best we could want in the waist
For knocking down fighters was his taste.

With these fellows I could feel almost secure
To fly with this all star bunch to be sure.
Many things have happened to us not to mention any,
But sometimes we didn't think our lives were worth a penny.

Now the parting time is at hand;
We will be going to our homeland.
But no matter how far we may stray
I won't forget - not even a day
The ones we spent together, the sad and the gay.

I'm still in Italy but soon expect to roam
Back to the States and to my home.
But there will always be on the front page of my mind
The best bunch of fellows I've ever left behind.

Poem written by Walker

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