UH-1Y_The Many

>The fire burns.
>They said we would never shoot again.
>Never to be held by the hands of man.
>They cut us apart and cast us out, we one who once were four.
>Packed in dust and left rust, our services needed never more.
>But now another holds the torch, and in his eyes there lies a need.
>And now we know our time has come; it is time for men to bleed.
>The fire burns.
>Our receiver is now whole again, though of a slightly different sort.
>Our stock connects strongly, the better to provide our shooter support.
>A new barrel becomes one with us, promising to fire straight and true.
>It sings to us songs of lead, of copper, no more the stench of black mildew.
>Our bolt comes back, the ammo feeds, and once more we fire.
>And now we are ready like of old, to express man’s every violent desire.
>The fire burns.
>One and all we were made to suit man’s every need.
>On this new battlefield we sit, belching forth our deadly seed.
>The prodigal son of the commonwealth has not come home- not yet.
>But here on this Virginian battlefield, a new life we have met.
>The fire burns, even here, on this dusty Oklahoman plain.
>Just like it did in Idaho, we are haunted by that flame.
>The fire burns and we must go, it is not yet our time to rest.
>We shall fight and we may die.
>Dulce et decorum est.