Old Glory

Imagine your friend has been a prisoner of war. You've just personally negotiated his release.
Even as you stand on your ship, still clasping hands and embracing each other, preparing to sail home, you receive word that you cannot return home because your country is under attack. You have nowhere to dock.
You stand on the deck of your ship as the sun sets, straining to see your country's flag waving high, knowing that as long as that flag stands, the enemy has not won. However, if the flag is gone, your home is lost.
Darkness falls.
You cannot see your flag except for the occasional bursts of light from nearby explosions.
When morning comes, you rush to see if your flag still stands, or if it has indeed been replaced by your enemy's.

Imagine this.

And you will know what Francis Scott Key felt while standing on a ship floating near Baltimore one morning many years ago when, on the back of an envelope, he scribbled this:

Oh, say can you see by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars thru the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

Happy 4th of July, America!