You gave them covering fire, as your team withdrew.
you were badly wounded, but they knew that you'd pull through.
But the Chopper was delayed on that fateful day,
You men stood guard around you as your lifeblood drained away.
To them you were a hero who died that they might live.
To us our only son with oh so much to give.
You were no plaster saint in teens rebellious years,
but you grew in stature and calmed a parents fears.
It's beyond all rhyme and reason, to bury ones own son.
We should have gone before you and you should still live on.
But that's the hand fate dealt us and the one that we must play.
So we said our sad goodbyes to you, beside your grave today.
Thomas Henry Reynolds
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem