Said the head to the flight;
Ten ships arose,
Rifle squads in those.
The flight is off; said the tail to the lead,
And he raised the nose to climbing speed;
Rotor wash hit the ships in the back,
But it wasn’t enough to cut them slack.
The flight is joined, reported the tail,
As they headed north in a staggered trail;
The first flight is followed by three more,
A battalion should do it, but who’s keeping score?
Gun ships joined the first formation,
They’d cover the landing and stay on station;
Some with rockets and some with grenades,
Added more pitch to the rotor blades.
Door gunners cleared their M62’s,
The flight had entered a steady cruise;
The infantry squads were locked and loaded,
You could ask me why, but I won’t be quoted.
came the fire preparation,
There was no time for hesitation;
Turning final they saw the explosions,
It looked like more than normal erosion.
One side hammered by the artillery,
The other bombed by air auxiliary;
Those on the left look like 155s,
Gattling guns rip the ground alive.
The supporting fires shift left and right
Craters in front pock mark the site;
Lead on final orders suppression -- Fire!
I wasn’t scared, but I’m a liar.
Slowing down and beginning to flare,
Skids touch down – with no room to spare;
An ambush explodes from trees on the side,
Get off quick,
it’s the end of the ride.
Pull the collective … Get Out of Here!
We’re taking hits, but which way to steer?
The second wave has started to land,
Two choppers down – that’s not in the plan.
Get more men to help re-enforce,
We’re committed to
battle and have little choice;
The third wave breaks the ambush down,
Now our side is holding the ground.
Pick-up those who are down in the cane,
Give them morphine to help with the pain.
Load them up for evacuation,
To the brigade clearing station.
Medics sort the casualties with tags,
Put the dead in body bags;
Patch up those who are still effective,
Where the hell’s the next objective?