The Flight of the Gray Dog

I strapped into the harness seat as the 30's engines roared,Relieved that I was going home, so glad I was aboard.I settled in the web seat, my home for coming hours,And prayed for pending clearance to come from airbase towers;To be aloft and airborne, away from this airdrome,Was all I knew, was all I cared, I wanted to go home.Then turbines roared and shrilly whined, pulling us into the air,And I grinned and smugly told myself that I was almost there.

Alone back here in cargo, cause the officers ride up front,I checked about the cargo space for whatever I might want;Was then I noticed all the crates, strapped down in middle aisle,With stenciled names upon each one in that quiet wooden file.It took my breath, it made me weak, to sudden know the truth,I was sharing my ride home with my country's fallen youth.Yes here I was returning home to my family and my wife;And these brave men were going home with nothing left in life.

I'll tell you now it makes you care more deeply than you know,To sit there in that web seat and feel your feelings grow,That sense that they're your brothers, who now for all is lost,For you and all America, they've paid the final cost.I've never flown a longer flight, and I guess I never will,Sitting there for hours and hours watching all those boxes still;But I'll tell you on that long flight, pride replaced my dread,Of escorting America's bravest, of bringing home her dead.

Written in tribute to the Gray Dog, the man who made the flight, and the fallen warriors who made it with him.

Russ Vaughn