He flew with Doolittle against Japan on the eighteenth of April in Forty two. Eighty brave volunteers made that flight. but their numbers dwindled down to you.
In postwar reunions these men would meet And toast the fallen gone before From silver goblets with their names inscribed, these heroes of that distant war.
Then, when there were only two, A vintage bottle was opened at last. You gave the toast to vanished friends; The faces and names from your storied past.
Now you, too, have been laid to rest In old Marse Robertβs hallowed fields. Once more you hold the bombers yoke And lift off Hornetβs pitching deck. You rise toward grey shrouded skies upon a fearsome enterprise.
Richard Cole, age 103, has died. The last of the Doolittle raiders