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S/Sgt. Walker L. McNutt
721st Squadron
Walker at Peterson Field, Colorado Springs - 1944
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Walker in Rome - June 1944
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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
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Reflections
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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Link To Crew Information
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