The Few

After months of planning,
The sea lion begins its attack,
Teeth bared,
A black cap upon its head,
And an iron cross on its breast,
Its minions swarm overhead,
Ready to drop hell upon the Isle.

Who can stave off the sea lions bite?

Men of the Isle,
Exiles from the east,
And allies from the west,
The bravest of pilots,
The Few.

They take to the heavens,
In their seraphs of war,
Raging Hurricanes,
And surging Spitfires,
Aces against the storm.

Remember their heroism,
303rd, 401st and 312nd,
Remember their names,
11th, 74th and 609th,
Brothers and comrades,
The Few.

The Battle of Britain calls,
This will be their finest hour.