The Honor Among Clouds...
It's an old and faithful thing,
These flying volunteers.
It started with cloth and grit in World War Two,
The day after the war started,
In fact most people hardly know.
Civilian Airmen took their own planes to the skies,
Spotting submarines off our coastlines,
Sparrowhawks hunting tin sharks,
Piper Cubs and old Jennies alike,
They fiercly defended home.
They still volunteer among the clouds,
Or in old buildings on little airports,
Out among the dust and obscurity.
How many cadets went on to lead,
Officers and judges,
And every other working thing,
The stuff of civil duty,
A nearly-forgotten thing.
If your plane goes down,
They will find you.
If your house is flattened by a hurricane,
They will take the pictures that rebuild you.
If you want to learn of aviation,
They will teach you,
Or your sons and daughters.
The Silent Service,
Those barely heard of or known,
There when the chips are down,
Or when the skies are up.
Say hello to the Civil Air Patrol,
A golden thing under a blanket of dust,
A wonder that America barely remembers it has.
By: Daniel A. Stafford