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
Hung 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 untrespassed sanctity of space,

Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

---

This poem was originally written on September 3, 1941, by Pilot
Officer John Gillespie Magee, Jr., just months prior to his being
killed in a practice flight over England on December 11, 1941, at
the age of 19 years. The poem was received by his parents in 
Washington D.C. on the back of one of the pages of a letter he
sent to them. The original letter is in the Library of Congress.

Here's the full story as told by Dwayne Linton, the pilot
flying behind Magee. It is excerpted from the January 1993 issue
of Flying Magazine.

"I'll never forget that cold November day in 1941. We were
stringing down in fours, line astern, from 20,000 feet.
We were whip cracking. I was flying in the number-four position,
directly behind Magee, who was in the number-three position.
It was difficult to hold in close since I was on the swing-out of
each turn. We entered a hole in the cloud base at about 2000 feet
and lined out just under the clouds at 1500 feet doing 350 mph.

"It was hard to see any great distance due to the haze.
I caught a glimpse of an Oxford twin-engine bomber-pilot trainer
approaching just under the clouds to my right and directly at
right angles in front of our section leader. I pushed my radio
switch "ON" and yelled to the leader to miss that airplane!
He immediately pulled up into a steep climb with his number two
right behind him. Number three was so close that there was no
possibility of avoiding an air-to-air collision. Pilot Officer Magee
crashed right into the middle of the bomber-trainer's fuselage.
There was a momentary explosion of fire and flaming aircraft
parts were everywhere. My evasive action was a screaming turn to
the right and down. I pulled out into level flight less than a
hundred feet from the ground. I saw a stringing parachute near
the vicinity of the crash. Magee had managed to get out of his
aircraft but he was too low for his chute to open and he was killed
instantly. The Oxford's crew was also killed."

Of his former squadron buddy, Linton says,
"His one great masterpiece will not be forgotten soon."

---