Boys of 624

To the tune of "The Shores of Tripoli"

 

From the shores of dusty Africa

To our Maquis deep in France

Our Squadron flies there every nite

Just to give swell guys a chance.

Tho' the weather's never very good

And the mountains scrape the floor

We'd do our damnedest to the end

We're the boy's of 624.

Old Hitler's Luftwaffe did their best

To stop those air supplies

By fighting Maquis on the ground

And the Stirling in the skies.

But the boys will always carry on

Right to the Germans door

'cause we're the British fighting breed

We're the boys of 624.

Our C.O. always rants and raves

He's the "bastard" of them all

He knew the boys he was binding at

Would answer to his call.

O'er the valleys and the lofty trees

Down thru' the nite we'd soar

In answer to the Victory "V's"

We're the boys of 624.

Now our job is well and truly done

Never more we'll want to roam

Old Jerry's truly on the run

There's a chance of "Home, Sweet Home".

Oh we never care; we've done our share

To help to win the war

But you'll never find a finer crowd

Than the boys of 624.