Occurrence Number:00504925
http://www.atsb.gov.au/publications/...200504925.aspx
I make no apology I’ve come to tel ‘bout a story de je vu,
There’s no need to whimper as just for now it’s not about you.
It matters not ere private, sling, med, muster, survey or test,
Here is a chance to show you’ve got the guts to help the rest.
While many are born with rhyme, metre and pen all put in finesse,
For me it’s a struggle even to ken simple limerick, it’s all a great mess;
With marks and tense all over the place and grammar so poor,
I was bloody lucky to pass the finals, on the way out the door;
The story is about a theme of the fraternity,
A man not known to me and not of the city;
T‘was a bushie at heart with avgas in his veins,
A tradegy to tell - I challenge you all, in the main;
Yes, these stories they will silence us all,
How a pilot of 9,000 hours can hit the wall;
The ATSB report it is now prepared,
Clinical, professional and delivered;
It matters not how carefully couched,
Impartial, or softly meant to touch;
The family must once again embrace,
Terror stricken hearts at an awful pace;
The deity in their souls will lift them to plead,
What on earth can be done for others to heed?
The crashing reality of this wasted ‘occurrence,’
Tis to them and to us is of terrible 'apparance';
So it’s up to us your mates and your colleagues,
As we pose yet again the words of the sages;
What is better than training for saftey that is not done enough?
We must spread the word no matter how hard or how rough:
Talk to the foolhardy, their friends, family, workmates and all,
Impress them with your courage your conviction and awe;
Not of their maker that they’ll likely meet with care to the wind,
But of the terror, grief and grue all too every other will be the grind;
So, that’s it, now show us your drive,
For some good to do, you must strive;
Remember this man had a total of hour’s nine grand or so,
With a family still and quiet, waiting for you to give it a go;
And if perchance just one life you might have salved,
The feeling of flight at your next collective command;
Can be savoured as beside the inner content,
And loftier, than ever, the next throttle detent:
Anon.