'They told the kid, a '38's the thing
It's got two props and guns that sing.
It's got plenty of range, and can carry a load
And it's a friend to have on a combat road.
But, the kid looked up and said in revolt,
"You take your '38, I'll take a 'Thunderbolt'"
Then they said, "The Spit's mighty sweet
And for maneuverability it can't be beat.
It met the Luftwaffe at its best
And records show it passed the test."
But the kid just answered, with a smile and a shrug,
You take the Spit, I'll take a 'Jug'"
Then they said, "Those two are pretty hot,
But they don't have what the '51's got.
It's got the guns and it's got the speed
And more damned gadgets than you ever need."
The kid looked up and shook his head
"Keep them both, Mine's a Jug instead."
The kid spoke, "Your '38's sweet,
Your Spit's pretty hot and the 51's neat,
But, listen fellows, I'll make a bet
Just fly those ships, they'll kill you yet.
And when you're up in "Pilot Heaven"
I'll still be here in a P-4-7."'
Poem by Lt. E. C. Buckley, P-47 pilot