The
Beginning of the End 
The 
Sabre Era
The Sabre was and still is considered by many as the Spitfire of the post war era. More than any other nation, Canada and 439 Squadron helped to build up the mystique of the Sabre , the last of the real Air Fighting machines. What better way is there to end this saga, than through the eyes of the poet, Frank Halliwell, who, although not a member of 439, refueled these magnificent machines and often went on operational deployments with the Tigers as one of their own.
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Photo source Canadian Air Force Site
SABRE JET
Frank Halliwell
I pulled up outside an airport, and she sat there, on display,
On a little pad of concrete, like a grounded bird of prey.
I was carried in an instant by that bit of happenstance,
To an airfield near a village in the fields of northern France.
Once again I hear the bellow of the turbine's mighty song
As the waves of rolling thunder drive the sleek war-birds along...
Down the runway; ever faster, till they bid the earth good-bye,
And the gear locks into place as they leap headlong for the sky.
Rising like four homesick angels to their home among the clouds,
All around;...reverberations of their passing;... long and loud.
Four small specks far in the distance, vanishing into the blue,
Now there's nothing left but echoes and the scent of Turbo 2.
Beeping horns of angry drivers pull my mind back to to-day,
...From forty years back in the past, and half a world away.
The traffic lights have turned to green during my reverie,
For both of us are obsolete ;
The Sabre Jet and me!
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The
Beginning of the End