The ship...

Preceptor

New Member
The ship is listing badly,
Only minutes left to choose.
Men scramble to their stations,
This battle we WON’T loose.

I grab the #1 nossle.
My #2 ties on the rope.
There are men still trapped inside her
And we’re their only hope.

We have long since used our OBA’s,
No canisters left full.
We tie wet rags across our face
As I begin to pull.

We enter in, the world goes black
Water rises into steam.
On we go, in to the dark
Then we hear the painful scream.

We enter a space, men are down.
Two move, the others don’t.
One asks that we don’t leave him behind,
I promise him we won’t.

#2 signals ‘send in help’
They acknowledge ‘here we come.’
We mark the spot then off we go,
My hands are getting numb.

Further down’s a hatchway,
Debris is jammed in tight.
We clear the hatch, swing wide the door,
To reveal a harrowing sight.

They had set out pictures of loved ones,
Now charred to almost toast.
To try and save their shipmates
They died there at their post.

I hear my voice “Oh dear God!
I think I need some air.”
#2 signaled back to the team,
‘Get us out of here!’

We saved the ship, and lost some lives,
Freedoms price is never cheap.
And never forget the gift you have
As you drift peacefully to sleep.

Preceptor 2003
 
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