For a short period of time in the early 90's I was a Primary Forward Air Controller (PFAC). This was an exciting and very challenging role which involved guiding fast jets on to their targets. Problem was; once an attack had taken place and the pilots had flown away the PFAC would still be on the ground within sight of the enemy and they would be looking for him.
For some reason this role sprung to mind when I was tasked with writing a poem themed 'birds' for this months Open Mic. The poem took 15 minutes to write, I hope you like it.
The birds flew in just after dawn.
They skimmed the treetops,
left ripples on the surface of the lake.
The first, and last, their prey knew of them
was a mighty, stomach wrenching, roar
as they flashed past;
leaving dust and devastation in their wake.
Up on the hill top
he tucked the laser away,
confirmed the kill,
then crawled over the brow,
stood and broke into a tab*.
John Carré Buchanan
19 May 2014
* Tab; A term the Paras' use to describe a run carrying full kit. A bit like the Royal Marines' 'Yomp', but faster ;-)