Better Late ...

Better Late ...

Lying on the jungle floor,
no rescue near at hand,
death was knocking at our door
as we made our last stand.

It started as a routine flight,
unknown that fate had planned
that we would feel the bullet's bite
and in the trees, crash land.

There were no thoughts of white flags
for there could be no trust.
We said our final farewells
and did our souls to God entrust.

Surrounded and outnumbered
we had no choice but fight
but like a rabbit in a tunnel,
we slipped away in the night.

Death has become a friend.
He waits without a trace
of impatience for he knows, before too long,
we will meet face to face.

An entry for Day 29, "Invalid Item" 
Prompt: Ever been late? Sure you have! Write about being late for an event or appointment.
Words to use: rabbit, white, tunnel
Words NOT to use: time, late, appointment, event, clock, watch.
At least 16 lines.
Line Count: 20
A Shau Valley, Vietnam, October 1968