A bird, wings torn off, ripped from the blue sky.
Two souls, stranded, lost in a hostile land
A short window to act before they die:
Swarms of helicopters stir up the sand-
And airfleet, unrestricted, combs Iran!
Within a day we had reduced the first,
Within two, we had rescued the second man,
Before he could die of hunger or thirst.
"No soldier left behind," that's what we say;
I suppose we proved it on that great day!
Apr 6
Apr 6, 2026 at 12:48 PM UTC
A bird, wings torn off, ripped from the blue sky.
Two souls, stranded, lost in a hostile land
A short window to act before they die:
Swarms of helicopters stir up the sand-
And airfleet, unrestricted, combs Iran!
Within a day we had reduced the first,
Within two, we had rescued the second man,
Before he could die of hunger or thirst.
"No soldier left behind," that's what we say;
I suppose we proved it on that great day!
Request permission to use this poem