Indeed! ❤️

There should be a new video with a SpaceX starship, as Elon Musk is the closes to a Heinlein industrialist.

Spacemen kzbin.info/www/bejne/mXbSl2BtrruqrpYsi=xIKH_BRCL971Z8ym

Who had the job of washing out the body parts with a steam hose ? An interview with them would fully illustrate the horror of the situation.

For those who have not read the short story www.sjsu.edu/people/edwin.sams/courses/English22/s1/GreenHillsOfEarthByRobertA.Heinlein1947_text.pdf

I dedicae this to Barry Wilmore and Sunita Williams, the astronauts "stuck" on the space station due the the Boeing Starliner capsule problems: I pray they have one last landing On the globe that gave us birth May they rest their eyes on the fleecy skies And the cool green hills of Earth.

What happened to the other planets' lyrics?

Today, Elon Musk is the closest we have to a Heinlein businessman character. And he is the closest to giving us the spaceflight Heinlein predicted

I always reference this😢

Thank you Robert Heinlein

We need a Terran planetary anthem. It would bring us together as a world.

🌻

It's Rowen pronounced boy rowan

IS this inspired by Heinlein's story??!

❤ beyond words for me...... I just kept sighing.... good deep sighs.... my body relaxed

Most agreeably sung.

Ehrlich und Wundrtschön

Sorry , the music is fabulous .lyrics not great .

Very good! However: Heinlein and Bernstein can take credit for all but five of the words. The phrase "The Green Hills of Earth", which inspired the story and the song, is due to Catherine L. Moore, a throwaway line in her debut story "Shambleau". Northwest Smith hums "The Green Hills of Earth" as he climbs the stairs to his rented room on Mars.

It’s an Ulster Scot’s song hence the wording

thanks Fred!

I teared up a little, I won't lie about it.

The arching sky is calling Spacemen back to their trade. All hands! Stand by! Free falling! And the lights below us fade. Out ride the sons of Terra, Far drives the thundering jet, Up leaps a race of Earthmen, Out, far, and onward yet - The stars that shine around us Are torches on the road The Black, extending outward, Is with great peril sowed. We embark on our adventure - Return and count the losses worth To see across the darkness The cool, green hills of Earth. We rot in the molds of Venus, We retch at her tainted breath. Foul are her flooded jungles, Crawling with unclean death. Let the sweet fresh breezes heal me As they rove around the girth Of our lovely mother planet Of the cool, green hills of Earth. The harsh bright soil of Luna, Silent and dead as the grave, Holds not the souls of Earthmen Whose lives for Earth's they gave. Across the seas of darkness The good green Earth is bright - Oh, Star that was my homeland Shine down on me tonight. The rust-red Martian deserts, Her lonely wandering sands, Are naught but lifeless visions To who on her surface stands. My heart turns home in longing Across the voids between, To know beyond the spaceways The hills of Earth are green. We, in the frozen nights of Titan, Dream of Saturn's rainbow rings. Yet in all our waking hours It's the Earth alone that sings. We've tried each spinning space mote And reckoned its true worth: Take us back again to the homes of men On the cool, green hills of Earth. We pray for one last landing On the globe that gave us birth; Let us rest our eyes on the fleecy skies And the cool, green hills of Earth.

Poor spacemen just can't catch a break, can they!

Based and America-pilled

I learnt this song wen I was a wee lass brings me back to my bonnie bonnie home and where I grew up x god bless too all x

I grew up with the notion that the air war was glory and adventure....not understanding the fragile nature of flesh, and the suicidal odds against surviving any given mission. Eventually, the dawning realization that glory isn't relevant to the glorious if they aren't around when it comes calling....but rather a selfish ideal built on a beguiling mirage. An humbling revelation to a young dreamer, but a lesson in a more sacred sacrifice and the detachment from illusion it demands.

“Go at throttle up..”

The songs older than heck... as a piper who loves this tune this version is good and the songs we love off pipes don't sound the same sung ... wings , over the boarder , ... will ye no come back again is sad as hell but piped it too has a good beat .... it's called "folk" for a reason

Tunnel rat or ball turret gunner? Trying to decide which would be a worse assignment. The small details of major historical events are sobering when you consider them person by person.

Realmente conmovedor el poema faltando saber qué lo motivó a quien lo escribió. Pocos conocen que la muerte de artilleros de fortalezas volantes es una de las cifras mas ominosas cosechadas por los raids anglo-americanos sobre Alemania. Si bien su efectividad no fue buena, su presencia en los aparatos era el precio en vidas que el dominio estratégico de los bombarderos exigía para posibilitar la victoria. Cuando los aparatos alemanes adaptaron sus piezas de 88 mm en los lomos de sus cazas prácticamente los reventaban dentro de sus cabinas artilleras. El humor negro en esos aciagos días para esa clase de hombres era algo así: "Si te hieren combatiendo y puedes volver, seca tu sangre mientras este congelada allá arriba.... después en tierra será más laborioso."

My 3rd grade reader (a LONG time ago) had the short story, and it got me hooked on science fiction. And I've tried to find musical versions of this song, and this is the FIRST one I have come across that does it justice. Great work!

Every time I hear one of these stories I think how much suffering would have been avoided if they were put in mosquitos instead of b17s

pretty sad that only mankind goes to great lengths to bring his race to death. Governments have killed more people than any known source. To try to remove them is certain death. So it will continue until there is no one left…

The tail gunners life span was very short also. You could not get the smell of death out of the m4 Sherman either.

Lyric corrections: My voice flows on in endless song Above all protestation. To sing a hymn, though far off key, My favorite recreation. Above the catcalls and the groans Of poets and their ilk, Eng- Lish never was abused like this. How can I keep from filking? Second verse is correct. Third verse has a broken-line rhyme like the first: ... On tunes I'll work my will; King- Dom Come won't dare give me a harp. How can I keep from filking?

How did they get him out with a hose?

In humility, I wrote a short story for my grade 10 English class which spoke of a tail gunner who died during a bombing campaign in which I spoke of him being hosed out of his turret at the end of the mission. I received a failing grade because the English teacher did not like the tone of the subject matter. That was over 30 years ago.

i can bop to this <3

This is nice

I have a high school friend whose dad was a ball turret gunner. His dad's name was Roger Palmer.

Hey I like your channel. Best of very few to be found in this niche. Thanks!

It doesn't sound like a poem to me because of the lack of rhymes. I wrote a poem and a song related to WWII, it's called a Dogfight, it's in Russian, who is interested (You can copy/paste the words into Google Translate), and can be found on my channel - DIKAN - Воздушный бой (Dm).

The poem inspired me. Harvard Summer Review " The Eight Circle" 2000.

Well, that takes me back about 50 years. Thank you.

My Father-in-Law was a Ball Turret Gunner his plane was named Maiden America 385th bomb group

I grew up with veterans of WW1, WW2 and Korea. The Viet Nam war was raging. I knew silent heros who were farmers, truck drivers, teachers, cops and post men. It was a great time to be alive. Surrounded and safe by those good men and women who had already been tested and passed the test of war.

GREAT!!

I read this in high school. 40 yrs later, it's still heartbreaking.

I read this poem for the 1st time in 1977. I was a freshman in high school. English class required reading a book of poems that had a section of war poems. It's February of 2022...45 years later and I have not ever forgotten reading that poem. I still feel a wonder of the fear, the terror, the pain and the hurt that all those involved in being a ball turret gunner or losing one as someone loved or known must have felt.