B.D.A.
Arc Light is on for tomorrow on the trail
Cong and NVA comin' down the trail
Check your ruck, check your weapons
All must be tight, no sounds can we make
Daylight approaches, aircraft on tarmac
Slow whine of turbines in morning air
Grab your gear, one last check
Down to flight line and into the aircraft
Three on each side, asses on floorboards
Feet's on skid, have to unass in a hurry no doubt
Blades start to spin, turbines loud whine
Tail up, nose down, spin in place and we go
Climbing for altitude in hot morning air
One slick and two heavies, play leap frog
Arc light has just dropped first load
Three abreast and 25,000 feet they go
Run will be about two miles, first one hits
Then all the rest, 10,000 pounds of hate
Explode ten feet above ground,
Blast will kill everything for a quarter mile around
And so it goes, one after another the fall to the ground
Ends coming up, time for out asses to hit the ground
Done playing hide and seek,
Now it's the Cong and NVA we seek
Into the LZ, hot and sure, hover five feet above the dirt
Six troopers unass from that bird and make a run
Make a run to the trees, Aircraft increases power
and makes it good its escape, leaving silence in its place
Into the trees and spread-out in single file,
First bomb hit in about a quarter mile
Still in the trees, we can see the bombers trail
Nothing is standing for at least one mile
Bomb craters and uprooted trees, no sign of life
Each crater is inspected for signs that might have been left behind
For a quarter mile, then a half mile and finally a mile
Nothing is living; there is no sign of life in the first mile
Something is wrong, voices we here now hear
Shit, it's the NVA and they are pissed
Looks like ants coming up from underground,
Looks like they were in bunkers underground
Call into Covey and get a FAC into place
From now on it's going to be a footrace
We freeze in place and hope that we have
Enough dirt on our face, so that we blend in better
As we wait in the hot sun, we are planning our run
soon overhead, the sounds of more bombs
As they begin to hit, up from the ground we charge
We begin our mad run to the end of this trail
Running and fighting, keeping them at bay
LZ is ahead to we now have two dead
Two dead and one hanging on by a thread
They are right behind us as we break into the clear
We send the wounded ahead with our dead
The aircraft has arrived and dips into the grass
Door gunners, firing as our final run we make
One more down, it's my one-one now who can't run
I spray the trees with my last few rounds and begin to run
Towards my one-one, he falls into my arms not able to run
I re-load from his ruck and he grabs onto my neck,
Walking backwards and with him hanging onto my neck
My fire is working as is that of the aircrews
Cong and NVA is staying in the trees
Finally I make it, it feel the skids at my knees
My one-one is grabbed and heaved into the door
One last burst and I spin in place; I grab the door
And heave myself into place, ain't leavin' my sorry ass in this place
Aircraft powers-up and spins in place, nose down and full power
It lifts itself up into space, As we clear the trees and begin our flight home
I sit back and wonder why we do that, it doesn't make sense
We always loose men just to count dead friggin' trees
It won't be long of that I have no doubt
One of these days my luck will run out
Two dead, three wounded, myself unscathed
We did better than the last team; they all died.
