None of history’s hero’s turned up late
To line up at St Peters gate
Parading soldiers of all ranks
Military precision – fronts and flanks

All with unlined faces, weariness gone
Remaining forever twenty one
They stood in greeting, silent, mute,
To give a welcoming salute

Another hero has come home
His job complete, his race is run
They look with pride upon their mate
As he boldly marches to the gate

He wears his red beret so bold
And his Pegasus wings, all trimmed with gold
He meets his maker, face to face
And says “I’m here lord, do I have a place”?

God knows this man and the work he’s done
And says “you’re welcome here my son,
You fought your fight, you fought it well
You have already spent your time in hell

Come sit by me forever by my side
And wear your red beret with pride
You are a warrior with a warrior’s creed
Gods special soldier – the airborne breed”.