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Time was you came by day in screaming hordes,
And tore our summer skies to shreds
With angry patterned trails. You puffed your cheeks
And on the debris heaps of your destruction
Stood and crowed your triumph to the world
That looked within your grasp — but for the few
Who stood so firm and steadfast in between.
Time was you came in droning herds at night,
Your strange reverberations heavy winged
With death. Night after night to London town
You came, and painted each so rich a hue
That morning’s sun grew pale, and Thames ran red
Beneath the shade the stricken night had brought.
You told the world that London town was dead.

You lit another fire in those dark days,
You lit a torch and now it comes back home,
Born on a thousand steady silver wings.
How now, Luftwaffe! Do you like it now?
Now that you do not have to fly so far
And flight us up above your homes, how now?
How does your ancient Rhine look — red by night?
Do mid-day suns made pale by smoke strike chill?
And do you like it in the distant parts
Of your all-powerful Reich, knowing
That you will hear the steady roar
Of dark invaders overhead at night,
Coming to wake you — if you dare to sleep?
Now that the daytime brings you terror, too,
And all Berlin is crumbling neath our might,
And you can’t stop it and you know not how,
No matter what you do or what you try.
How now, Luftwaffe! Do you like it now?

G.A.G. Miller 1944-45

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