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Cottontails Song



Here is the way I got hold of the song.
The officers of the 450th had a party at night sometime, May June or July. One of the officers wrote this song but I do not know his name.
Someone showed me a copy that night and I thought how neat, and I put it with my war memos.
The original song said "here's to the buckcheese missions we never fly" it was an hindu word, it meant easy.
As far as I know I am the only one who made a copy of it and brought it back to the States. It is too neat not to be used. The guy who wrote it was really smart. It followed so closely to our understanding of what went on, especially of the ground grippers eating up our lunch while we were on a mission.

William Crawford Dudley

P. S. the song was used at the party that night and was written for that use, all in good natured fun!

THE SONG OF THE COTTONTAILS
(Baksheesh pronounced Buckcheese meaning easy)
Tune of Johnny Comes Marching Home.

 

A mission tomorrow at dawn for us, Hurrah, Hurrah!

They'll notify next of kin for us, Hurrah, Hurrah!

With the fifty missions we have to fly,

And odds that we shall bail out or die,

So we'll drink to the Baksheesh missions we'll never fly.

 

A mixer of concrete should never grow wings, Hurrah, Hurrah!

A B-24 is one of those things, Hurrah, Hurrah!

It floats thru the air with the greatest of ease,

Just like an eggbeater batting the breeze,

So we'll drink to the Baksheesh missions we'll never fly.

 

Our number three prop has run away, Hurrah, Hurrah!

And our number one turbo has gone to stay, Hurrah, Hurrah!

With a short in the ball and the nose guns out,

The top turret's jammed and just spinning about,

So we'll drink to the Baksheesh missions we'll never fly.

 

The target is protected by trainer planes, McKamy says, Hurrah, Hurrah!

The flak is feeble and poorly aimed, McKamy says, Hurrah, Hurrah!

But the trainers are Messerschmitt 109's,

And the feeble flak holed us three hundred times,

So we'll drink to the Baksheesh missions we'll never fly.

 

And Stormy tells us it's clear and blue, Hurrah, Hurrah!

We find it ten-tenths and can't get thru, Hurrah, Hurrah!

What a funny statement the Colonel makes,

He's greasing our way to those pearly gates,

So we'll drink to the Baksheesh missions we'll never fly.

 

Precision bombing at noon for us, it's Kaecker's day, Hurray, Hurrah!

With a ten second nose and a forty-five tail delay, Hurrah, Hurrah!

We aimed at the harbor, we hit all around,

Survivors are feasting on fish that they found,

So we'll drink to the Baksheesh missions we'll never fly.

 

Our bomb bay doors are gone again, Hurrah, Hurrah!

The Bombardier toggled them out in train, Hurrah, Hurrah!

At twenty-four thousand it's forty below,

My A-10 is frozen, my gas is low,

So we'll drink to the Baksheesh missions we'll never fly.

 

We circle the target to steady Jerry's aim, Hurrah, Hurrah!

And when we get back Major Orris we'll blame, Hurrah, Hurrah!

We pick all the towns that have most of the flak,

We circle them all on our way coming back,

So we'll drink to the Baksheesh missions we'll never fly.

 

We return to our base and we think we're thru, Hurrah, Hurrah!

But we circle the field for an hour or two, Hurrah, Hurrah!

You're so goddam tired but hell you're alive,

And next mornings mission is scheduled for five,

So we'll drink to the Baksheesh missions we'll never fly.

 

For us next comes the interview list, Hurrah, Hurrah!

You tell them about the target you missed, Hurrah, Hurrah!

You say that you hit it and set it on fire,

The next man says different and makes you a liar,

So we'll drink to the Baksheesh missions we'll never fly.

 

You go to the mess and you're hungry as sin, Hurrah, Hurrah!

The food is all gone and they won't let you in, Hurrah, Hurrah!

The ground grippers ate it all up that day,

While you were out there with your hair turning gray,

So we'll drink to the Baksheesh missions we'll never fly.

 

You crawl into your sack to get some rest, Hurrah, Hurrah!

You can't get to sleep though you try your best, Hurrah, Hurrah!

The alarm is sounded the air raid is on,

You have to get up and put on your gun,

So we'll drink to the Baksheesh missions we'll never fly.

 

The 50th mission's the final one they say, Hurrah, Hurrah!

They let you go home to catch up with your fun, they say, Hurrah, Hurrah!

Instead they give you an M. P. tour,

But take it from me, that's a pile of manure,

So we'll drink to the Baksheesh missions we'll never fly.

 

The B-24's are here to stay, Hurrah, Hurrah!

They'll plaster them in the 450th way, Hurrah, Hurrah!

She's short and she's chunky, a queer looking hack,

But she'll take you out there, and she'll bring you back,

So we'll drink to the Baksheesh missions we'll never fly.

 

The B-24 rules the land and sea, Hurrah, Hurrah!

They look like squatting ducks to me, Hurrah, Hurrah!

But the Cottontails will have to stay,

And finish the job the 450th way,

So we'll drink to the Baksheesh missions we'll never fly.



Submitted by S/Sgt. William Crawford Dudley, 720th Squadron




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