The Poet Laureate of HMM-364

In addition to being the Aircraft Maintenance Control
Officer and the Officer in Charge of the Aircraft Recovery Team, Lieutenant
Payne had the knack for writing poetry.  He was dubbed the squadron's
Poet Laureate and wrote under the pen name of SS (aka) "Snake Shit." 
Here is one of the many poems he wrote depicting service with the "Purple Foxes."


The Fox Who Flew

Whoever heard of a flying Fox?  Nay say you - aye say I, so listen lads  to  a tale so true, 'bout some  Marines - just a few, who flew the skies of Vietnam to support the policy of old Uncle Sam.

Pilots, Crew Chiefs, and  Gunners too - Doctors, Corpsmen, and a Mustang or  two, gathered  under  the  sign of the  Fox; Purple he was, with a tongue so red, big bright eyes and he who said:


Now  Jane of  Hanoi, the  "Canadian  Brigade",  Draft  Dodgers, Rhodes Scholars, and  all who  said NAY - should  bow in shame;
hang  their heads  low,  for the deeds  of our  Foxes three decades
ago.  The Fox - he flew  in skies of blue, in  monsoon  rain - in all
the crap - we got no breaks from General Giap!

What was  this  crew, this  wonderful  few - really like!   One must
start with Pappa (the six actual) Fox who would always demand:

"Ah, come on guys, you gotta start taking me seriously."

All Foxes are brothers, they are all  the same - heroic,  irreverent,
silly and tender.  They are compassionate, tough, gallant, caustic,
and their sense of humor - outrageous!!

They  didn't   like  Wingies,   Biggies,  Staff   Pukes,  Fixed  Wing Heroes, and above all - they  would  suffer no phonies  or  fools!!

Pappa  Fox - they  would   follow  to  hell,  their  souls  entrusted  to God and  their crew; sacred  and brave they flew and flew - no man  in  this  day and time  could repeat that path they trod, no  man - no man.

Some Foxes will  remain forever young, the rest are  here now,  to toast those fine - those few.  Peace is here now - we have paid our due, I'd personally like to go back in a B-52!

So lads,  raise a glass on high for  the Fox who flew  in that harsh Asian  sky - he flew to glory - some may ask why:  so many could live - so fewer would die.  Now some units have this - others have that - actually  Bullshit  repeated  in  mass, nothing remembered, nothing  to  last - but we  are Foxes - we  go on  and on - 'till  the shadow  of  life  grows  long - and  all  we  ask - IS  ONE  MORE VERSE OF THE PHU BAI SONG!


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