There is a glass case at the National Museum of the United States Air Force in Dayton, Ohio.Inside it are eighty silver goblets.Each one is engraved with the name of a man who flew off the deck of the aircraft carrier Hornet on April 18, 1942, to bomb Japan. Sixteen bombers. Eighty men. They launched knowing the math did not work — they could not reach a friendly runway. They flew anyway.Beside the goblets sits a bottle of cognac from the year 1896 — the year their commander, Jimmy Doolittle, was born. The plan was simple. The last two Raiders left alive would open it, and drink to the rest.For seventy-one years, the men kept the ritual themselves. At every reunion, all eighty names were read aloud. The goblets of the men who had died were turned upside down, one by one, in silence.By 2013, four were left.They decided not to wait for two. On November 9, three of them gathered in front of the case, and the fourth watched from home. Richard Cole, ninety-eight years old, who had sat in the right seat beside Doolittle himself, opened the bottle.“May they rest in peace.”The last Raider died in 2019. He was one hundred and three years old.Today the case stands quiet. The bottle, opened exactly once, remains with them.And all eighty goblets stand upside down.The mission is complete.Not one of them is forgotten. The goblets see to that.