The Hour Is Go.

Here is a poem I found commemorating D-day paratroopers in France.

 7th E's Foxtrot

 One's eyes close tight and families fade,

When going to war which evil men made.
Though anxious and frightened, we don't let it show,
For the day is approaching, when the Airborne must go.

Each day now rolls past; we wait just the same,
But D-Day is near, and for this we all came.
The hour grows near; each man feels it inside,
And soon we'll be falling, with nowhere to hide.

Our eyes are now down and the chatter the same,
Each weapon now loaded, no longer a game.
Eagles gather round and bow your heads low,
Europe awaits and the hour is go.

Planes rumble past as we wait for our turn,
To fly over waters we have yet to earn.
Checked buckles and straps, left nothing to chance,
The Jumpmaster stands, calls "Welcome to France."

Flak turns to fire in the blackest of night,
Too low, too fast, can't jump from this height.
There's no turning back, the risk has been taken,
Free fall into Hades, paratrooper's forsaken.

Eagles hold tight, scattered prayers to survive,
We'll hit the ground soon, whether dead or alive.
As feet touch the ground, each soldier turns on, 
Confusion and fear are beaten and gone.

The enemy is close and sad they don't know
The Airborne is here, it's time they must go.
The hour is now, Hitler's had his last chance
On St. Michael's wings, we're taking back France.

      -Francis J. Turner

(Sorry to author I had to change a word in the poem)