THIRTY-FIVE YEARS

Thirty-Five years ago,
and one day,
Ghostrider 368
found the price they had to pay.

Vung Ro Pass –
its dangers well known;
'Twas a killer of aircraft
and the crews that belonged.

Fly convoy cover
or resupply the firebase –
Thru this pass
you must make haste.

Beauty is the site,
mountains, ocean, and the trees;
Killer you are
you take your fees.

Onward flew Ghostrider 368,
they had a job to do;
Fly around the mountain;
ammo was needed by the few.

Bring the mail
and replacements for the dead.
Bring fresh water –
You found death instead.

Into the trees
exploding into fire;
Into the ground
rotor blades did mire.

Bodies ripped apart;
legs, arms, and heads
burnt body parts –
we found parts instead.

Into C-Rat boxes
what we could find;
we brought you home,
the same you would do in kind.

We knew who was flying,
the collective still in your hand;
'Twas easy to tell
by the wedding band.

Today I drink for you;
I still hear your laughter.
You were my friends,
see you in the hereafter.

For if there is a God
and He is just,
We shall fly again,
laughing into the dust.