My first design. Thread here
Merry Christmas
Discussion /
Posted by addictedtoplanes /
Dec 24, 2012 @ 07:02 PM / 1,781 Views /
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MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!! Hope you all get that new plane!
Discussion /
Posted by addictedtoplanes /
Nov 26, 2012 @ 07:22 PM / 1,387 Views /
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18" Me110. Thread here: http://www.rcgroups.com/forums/showthread.php?t=1772964
20" nutball made with dollar tree foam.
20" nutball made with dollar tree foam.
A Canadian Airman foresees his death
Discussion /
Posted by addictedtoplanes /
Oct 25, 2012 @ 07:14 PM / 1,939 Views /
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I was born one day,
high up in the sky,
and there I shall meet my death.
It may come today,
or a month or a year from now,
but I will meet my end,
way up there.
Chorus
I shall meet my maker,
up in the sky,
trying to meet my foe,
he may be a lucky shot,
he may be a killer,
but he shall take my life away from me.
The year is 1941,
yet the war is still far from won,
but I won’t live to see 1943,
for some kraut will take my life from me.
Chorus
May They Rest In Peace
CPL. Nathan Glass, Royal Canadian Air Cadets
(Yes, I wrote this one myself)
high up in the sky,
and there I shall meet my death.
It may come today,
or a month or a year from now,
but I will meet my end,
way up there.
Chorus
I shall meet my maker,
up in the sky,
trying to meet my foe,
he may be a lucky shot,
he may be a killer,
but he shall take my life away from me.
The year is 1941,
yet the war is still far from won,
but I won’t live to see 1943,
for some kraut will take my life from me.
Chorus
May They Rest In Peace
CPL. Nathan Glass, Royal Canadian Air Cadets
(Yes, I wrote this one myself)
Tiger Moth in a tree
Discussion /
Posted by addictedtoplanes /
Oct 15, 2012 @ 06:09 PM / 1,540 Views /
2 Comments
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To think that I should ever see
A Tiger Moth up in a tree:
A tree whose countenance is pressed
Against the Tiger's oily chest,
A tree whose leafy arms embrace
This thing which came to her through space.
A tree who may in summer wear
A battered airscrew in her hair,
And on her bosom shyly borne,
A set of mainplanes, somewhat torn,
While, lying close beside her heart,
Is tightly pressed an undercart.
A tree who held with tender care
This navigator of the air,
Until some men with tools and crane
Her burden carried home again.
Planes are repaired by fools like me,
But how can we repair the tree?
A Tiger Moth up in a tree:
A tree whose countenance is pressed
Against the Tiger's oily chest,
A tree whose leafy arms embrace
This thing which came to her through space.
A tree who may in summer wear
A battered airscrew in her hair,
And on her bosom shyly borne,
A set of mainplanes, somewhat torn,
While, lying close beside her heart,
Is tightly pressed an undercart.
A tree who held with tender care
This navigator of the air,
Until some men with tools and crane
Her burden carried home again.
Planes are repaired by fools like me,
But how can we repair the tree?
Discussion /
Posted by addictedtoplanes /
Oct 11, 2012 @ 09:26 PM / 2,196 Views /
3 Comments
/ Reply
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long delirious, burning blue,
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untresspassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.
Pilot Officer Gillespie Magee
No 412 squadron, RCAF
Killed 11 December 1941
May he rest in peace
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long delirious, burning blue,
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untresspassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.
Pilot Officer Gillespie Magee
No 412 squadron, RCAF
Killed 11 December 1941
May he rest in peace



