Reproduced with permission from The Beacon Supplement

Contributed by Carol  (Mercer) Walsh - Class 1954

ODE TO GANDER

By O.C. WATKIN (R.A.F.T.C.)

Ye distant hangars, looming masts,

That crown this barren place,

Where rain and wind and icy blasts

The driving snow embrace;

And ye who from the stately brow

Atop the tower, th’expanse below

Of gleaming tarmac do survey,

To send upon their haughty flight

Eastward thro’ th’ Atlantic night

Our throbbing birds of prey.

All ye who on your duty bind,

And murmuring labours ply

‘Gaints freedom’s hour, to leave behind

This Gander memory;

Who with remorse and mind defiled,

And moody madness laughing wild,

Denounce with rankling tooth

The powers that sent you here, unsung,

These dark contagious fogs among,

To waste your golden youth.

Alas!  Too conscious of their doom

The little victims play,

No sense have they of ills to come

Nor care beyond today.

Yet see how round the corner wait

The ministers of human fate,

Lurking obscure in Post-War days!

Ah, show them how they’ll surely learn

In swarming city streets, to yearn

For Gander’s Careless Ways!

How when, obsess’d with faded care

In age-long fretful office hours,

Or gripp’d intense by black despair

That numbs the soul with icy powers,

The memory oft, ‘mid fitful noise,

Of thoughtless half-forgotten joys

Shall stab the overburdened heart.

And they’ll recall the times they strayed

‘Neath Gander’s blanket sky, and played

Their unpretentious part.

The fight on Deadman’s silent shore

To land a palpitating trout

The festival dance on shuffling floor

The “Jive at Five,” the wrestling bout,

Th’ encounter with a carefree jeep

Round twilight corners half asleep

In Autumn’s saffron evening light,

A Liberator’s solemn ease,

Loud-wing’d and lrodly, o’er the trees

In thundercloth’d flight.

To each his memories:  All have known

Some fleeting hours of cheer,

That quelled the universal groan,

Oppressing every ear.

So when the broadening years unfold,

And tales of youth are oft retold

With wild invention ever new,

Lo, those who loudly cursed their fate

Shall Gander’s bounteous praise relate

The countless ages through.