This `n That
ODE TO THE 45TH FIGHTER & SIDI SLIMANJE
The 86 flies o'er the field and says I'm on the break,
My fuel is down to minimum, the strip I might not make.
The tower says to 47s, "Please stand by, you see,
For any time those bastards land it's an emergency!"
A Tiger is a little man who tools a Sabre-Jet
His scarf is long, his gas is short, and he's not grown up yet.
He flies around as fast as sound and makes a lot of noise,
But so does Junior in his crib when playing with his toys.
We've been your guests for 6 long weeks and loved your BOQ
Your steaks are thick, so are the flies, we say "Marci Bo Koo.
The days are hot, the nights are cold, your pilots are the same,
How long can SAC stay over here and play this awful game?
Now please don't get the wrong idea, we like the Tigers fine,
We knew that when the whistle blows, you boys will hold the line.
If you can do as well as we and keep our strip intact,
We'll buy a drink when we get home and slap you on the back.
We hate to leave your sacred base you think so much about,
But yle will part without a tear but not without a shout.
We've had our fill of desert sands and fighter pilots guff,
Our plea to Uncle Curt Lemay is we have had enough.
For we're the boys of 2nd Wing you've heard so much about,
The mothers take their daughters in whenever we go out.
We're always full of whiskey and we're full of booze,
For we're the boys of 2nd Wing, now who the hell are youse?
No portion of this article may be used or reprinted without permission from the President of the F-86 Sabre Pilots Association or the editor of Sabre Jet Classics magazine.
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