For years, I have wondered about them,

Three men, whose lives were so dear,

What happened in those final moments,

As they realised that death was so near?

They left me without a goodbye,

In a flash they were no more,

Just another statistic, a telegram,

Just another victim of war.

Fifty years passed in silence,

A lifetime of questioning, "Why me?"

Was it fate or was it karma,

Or a God that I could not see?

The records of time have revealed them

Through a search of the pages displayed,

They're scattered in grave sites, well tended,

In Bari, Tincabesti, Belgrade.

I'm at peace now, I know where my friends are.

They've been lying apart all these years,

But I feel we've been brought back together,

In a bond that has overcome tears. 

From the records of 150 Squadron - author unknown, can you advise further?