Battle Stations

It’s steady, shrieking, eerie tones,
Which chills one to the very bones,
Quickly fills the ship to spread
A message of an unknown dread.
It’s strangely brutal pounding rouses
Men from weary, drunken poses,
Forces them from bunks to leap
These tired souls so drugged with sleep.
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Boxing Day at PNA

Was it my fault that I took part
In a boxing bout?
Was it my fault that it turned out
Into a complete rout?
Now all is done, why not jut out
My broken jaw and carry
A cavalier smile on my swollen lips;
And why tarry
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The Navy Way

I am always asked
Why I joined the Navy,
I never fail to answer
I love the churning sea.

I love it’s frothy restlessness,
I love to tame it’s storms,
And plunge right through them
Like bowel – tearing worms.
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The Quaid Remembered

There before me swims
What time hardly dims,
A vision of a figure frail
Clad in coat of mail,
His weapon firm conviction
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