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The airplane's smoking tires kissed the landing strip at Dover.
The long flight bringing thirty brave men back home was over.
The nation mourns as one at the tragic loss of each precious life,
Who gave their all to rescue brothers caught up in terrible strife.

When the ramp is lowered, the Honor Guard will bear each coffin.
They know the drill well, since they have done this all too often.
Chaplains will intone quiet words of comfort and lead the last parade,
To honor each of them for laurels won for their righteous crusade.

They willingly placed national interests above their very own,
To ensure that our precious freedoms would ne'er be overthrown!
They performed magnificently with love, valor and dedication.
Alas, they won't parade or hear the acclaim of a grateful nation.

They will be borne to their final resting place in hallowed ground,
There, to sleep until the clarion call of Gabriel's bugle call will sound.
On that glorious morn He will present each with a regal crown,
Saying, "My dear son, you served Me and My people with great renown!"

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
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