Herman may not have talked much about his experiences in the years afterward, but his poetry tells us what he was thinking and feeling from his bird’s eye view of the panorama of war.

Bob Callahan
Bob Callahan went home last night,
To the place he loved the best.
Bob Callahan went home last night,
Prepared for his final rest.

His boyish face was a whitish hue,
His hands were on his chest.
His eyes were glassed of greenish blue,
The wings were on his breast.

There was no band, no cheering crowd,
Silence lined the street.
Heads were bowed, but they were proud,
The voices were discreet.

They knew he flew with a devilish grin,
And bombed with a steady eye.
They knew he laughed at that fatal spin,
As the mountains rushed on by.

He lived his life in the auction mart,
In deeds both big and small.
He did not shirk as the wings tore apart,
He was of timber great and tall.

Bob Callahan met God last night,
Somewheres in the distant blue.
Bob Callahan gave his all for the flight,
“Bob Callahan, we’ll remember you.”

 Herman Allen, 194o’s

Note:  Ever since I found this poem, I have wondered, “Who was Bob Callahan?”  My new friend, Albert McMahon, who is secretary of the 306th Bomb Group Association (www.306thbg.org) said that he found 3 Callahans in the roster of the 306th, but they were not named “Bob” (nor Robert) nor were any of them bombardiers.

There was an actor named Bob Callahan who appeared in some movies in the 1930’s and 40’s.  So it is a mystery as to who Bob Callahan was to inspire Herman to write those words that day.  Does anyone have any other ideas?

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