UH-1Y_The Find

>I have seen the light.
>My box was opened, this velvet casket, and my slide was finally locked back.
>A magazine was sent home, a round fed into my chamber, and then it was back to the black.
>I know not who carries me, but they feel familiar to me.
>They feel like a winter in Germany, like a glorious December eve.
>The air here is warmer, my holster is tighter, the clothing too relaxed for parades.
>My carrier moves quickly, not quite at a jog, keeping up civility’s charade.
>I have seen the light.
>Another magazine joins me, this one of plastic, carrying thirty rounds of who knows what.
>They promise me service, they promise me duty, they promise me a soldier’s luck.
>The readying of rifles resounds as we head into town, our comrades now at our sides.
>Soon the fire begins and our comrades thin, our enemies run and they hide.
>The magazine is replaced with another now empty, who sings tales of fallen men.
>Of fire in houses and gas in the streets, shrieking metal and blood in the wind.
>Soon I must go, our ammo is low, and the battle is not yet at its end.
>A hand grips me in my holster then holds me at low ready; prepared for one last mad dash.
>I have seen the light, I have.
>Sometimes the light is muzzle flash.