A gunner's day is never done, Up at dawn before the sun. With the roar of engines in his head, Wishing he could have stayed in bed.
Chow at four, fried eggs and such, Won't have time to eat too much. Briefing at five, the crew is all there, And ever anxious to be up in the air.
See to your chute, ammunition and guns, For the boys all know its not for fun. Death will be there high up in the blue, Waiting for someone, perhaps for you.
Take off at six or maybe at six-thirty, Hope no one has a gun that is dirty. Form with the group at 12,000 feet, See the formation, they really look neat.
Put on your mask the air is getting thin, Off to battle, some with a grin. Were over the water, now test your guns, Enemy coast, here comes the fun.
Flak at six and flak at twelve, Look out! you hear the bombardier yell. Here come Fighters, coming in low Maybe they're ours, don't shoot till you know.