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We Fly at Dawn
We Fly at Dawn
We Fly at Dawn
The following poem was published in the Utica newspaper The Messenger formally called Il
Messegiero on February 3, 1945. A clipping had been kept tucked away in a photo album
for almost 60 years by John's sister-in-law, Rose Contento.
Linda Schmidt, daughter of John Contento, October, 2007
John Contento was awarded the Soldier's Medal for actions to save crewmates after
crashing on take-off 12/24/44. One of those John pulled from the flaming wreckage was
the injured planes co-pilot James L. White Jr. -my father.
Thank you John
WE FLY AT DAWN
WE FLY AT DAWN
WE FLY AT DAWN
WE FLY AT DAWN
WE FLY AT DAWN
WE FLY AT DAWN
WE FLY AT DAWN
WE FLY AT DAWN
WE FLY AT DAWN
WE FLY AT DAWN
Though I'm afraid each time and I swear it's the last,
My breath comes in jerks, and my heart beats fast.
I'd rather do my bit, here in the blue,
Than fight on the ground like some fellows do.
I'm doing my part and none can say,
He's taking the war the easiest way.
WE FLY AT DAWN
We're over the target and my heart skips a beat-in fact a few beats,
The altimeter's reading thirty thousand feet.
The Bomb bay opens and the fight is begun,
This time its for keeps and not for fun,
Then over the interphone, calm and clear;
"Bombs away": the cry from our Bombadier.
WE FLY AT DAWN
WE FLY AT DAWN
The Flak is heavy, but not bad -- it's way down below.
But that's not what we fear most from the foe.
"There they are!" you can see them they're coming fast,
The ME109s are coming, they've caught us at last.
They're fast little devils -- a hundred or more,
But we're ready and waiting, we'll even the score.
WE FLY AT DAWN
WE FLY AT DAWN
WE FLY AT DAWN
WE FLY AT DAWN
WE FLY AT DAWN
WE FLY AT DAWN