This thread needs more poetry:
'The Gotha'
And as I flew above the lines
upon my growling Gotha
The guns below all opened up
and blew my tail off. Bother...
The RFC bomber pilot's lament:
I plied the skies
and peeled my eyes
For fiendish Albatrosses,
But lost control
spun in - the hole
is marked with flowers and crosses.