Silver wings, upon his chest
Brosie was America’s best.
On D-Day, he heard the call
In New Guinea, in no time at all.
A great athlete, so Joe is told
After him, they broke the mold.
Brosie flew, near the jungle shore
It was Japs, he was hunting for.
Plane shot down, through no fault of his
Upon the sea, he said, “gee whiz”.
Savage cannibals, his body did seek
He swam away, like a torpedo streak.
Alas for him, the trail was lost
His tale was told, by America’s boss.
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