I, Bruce Gordon, bought a plaque with this poem on it while I was flying F-100's in Vietnam.  The terminology is correct, so it was apparently written by a Forward Air Controller.  It refers to exactly the kind of fighter strikes that I was flying every day, so I remember it clearly.  Hum the "Wabash Cannonball" while reading the poem.

As I sit here wondering, just how it will be
Today when flying up on high, feeling quite alone and free
Will I hear those fateful words, “Troops in contact, Sir,
The Army’s in a jam again, and they need our help, you see”

“Pinpoint, please, the target”, the grunts are pleading now,
“They’re hitting us with everything, there’s nothing we can do
If you see ol’ Charlie, a-hiding in the trees,
When the jets come screaming down, much action you will see.”

The fighters soon are overhead, with eagerness they fly,
Their skills are polished to the hilt, they too don’t want to die.
“Just mark for us the target, and we will do our best,
To hit your smoke consistently, and lay Charlie to his rest.”

“High drags, Nape, and 20 Mike-Mike, is what you have for me.
This makes me very happy, for what a show they’ll see.
The friendlies’ mark is to the East, the Gooks are to the West.
My mark’s away, my smoke is good, I’ll let you do the rest.”

“Set ‘em up HOT, arm nose-tail, make sure your sight’s uncaged.
I’m turning base, I have your mark, I have the FAC in sight.”
“OK, lead, you’re looking good, you’re cleared in hot today.
So come on down and pickle ... Roger, two away.”

Number two comes right behind, and does his level best,
To put his bombs on target; he too has passed the test.
“Now hold high and dry a moment, till the smoke has cleared away
For I must get a closer look, to give a BDA.”

“This is the Ground Commander, your boys were good today.
The shooting’s stopped, the smoke has cleared, I’m sure they’ve run away.
So pass along my many thanks to those fighter jocks on high,
Because of what they did today, we didn’t have to die.”

As I sit here wondering, what will the future bring?
Will the flight be peaceful, or will the Devil sing?
When will the fighting cease for good, so no more have to die?
All these things I ask myself, an hour before I fly.

-- Author Unknown