Push for PORTER

Twas in March '68 on a bright Sunday morning
When Captain O'Beirne and his crew members three
Crossed over the tarmac and boarded the airplane
And prepared the St. Phelim for its trip o'er the sea

Twenty two people from four different countries
To return to their homelands from Cork by the Lee
Joined thirty five more from the island of Ireland
On board the St. Phelim to fly o'er the sea

Some children were waving from the terminal building
As the Viscount sped down the runway rapidly
And they cheered with delight as it rose in the blue sky
As for London St. Phelim set out o'er the sea

Twas just before noon the air traffic controller
Heard the message that never would leave his memory
"Five thousand feet, descending, spinning rapidly"
The last words from St. Phelim as it fell towards the sea

For a few minutes more the plane it stayed airborne
As the crew to control it they fought valiantly
But near Tusker Rock they were finally defeated
And the stricken St. Phelim plunged into the sea

Their friends and relations were waiting at Heathrow
But the joy they were feeling soon turned to misery
When the dreadful news broke and mid the cries and the anguish
They prayed for St. Phelim as it sank in the sea

The rumours soon started, the whispers grew louder
Some said a test missile from the British navy
Was fired at a drone but acquired the wrong target
And struck the St. Phelim flying high o'er the sea

But the witnesses all on the Waterford coastline
Though they were not believed told a different story
For they saw with eyes that a piece of the tailplane
Detached from St' Phelim and fell into the sea

What happened that morning could never be proven
No black box to explain the great mystery
And the lost forty seven who were never recovered
Still sleep with St. Phelim in the cold Irish