I found this little number On the USS Begor website
A Navy Poem whose author is unknown but it was
submitted by a Jack Pate, LTJG, SC, who served from 1955-57
submitted by a Jack Pate, LTJG, SC, who served from 1955-57
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Now me and a buddy and a guy named Joe
took off on a can from Sasebo,
The chow was poor and the fuel was low,
but that doggone can could really go.
Now along about the middle of the night,
we were steaming along with all our might,
When a cruiser behind us blinked his lights,
blew his whistle and pulled into sight.
We had twin screws on that little old can,
which might have you think we were in a jam,
But to you swabbies who don’t dig that jive
that’s 16 boilers and an overdrive.
Now we were men who likely knew
we could race all night until something blew.
That fantail was deep from the turn of the screws,
but through the waves we flew and flew.
Over the ocean we did glide,
flying along with the throttles wide.
The skipper screamed and the crew they cried,
but we and that cruiser stayed side by side.
We looked o’er the fantail ‘cause we heard something coming:
sounded like a jet the way it was humming.
It was coming along at a terrible pace,
and we knew right then it was the end of the race.
As it streaked by our side, we looked the other way,
but, the crew of the cruiser had nothing to say.
For there going by was a Reserve JG,
pushing a hopped up LST !
took off on a can from Sasebo,
The chow was poor and the fuel was low,
but that doggone can could really go.
Now along about the middle of the night,
we were steaming along with all our might,
When a cruiser behind us blinked his lights,
blew his whistle and pulled into sight.
We had twin screws on that little old can,
which might have you think we were in a jam,
But to you swabbies who don’t dig that jive
that’s 16 boilers and an overdrive.
Now we were men who likely knew
we could race all night until something blew.
That fantail was deep from the turn of the screws,
but through the waves we flew and flew.
Over the ocean we did glide,
flying along with the throttles wide.
The skipper screamed and the crew they cried,
but we and that cruiser stayed side by side.
We looked o’er the fantail ‘cause we heard something coming:
sounded like a jet the way it was humming.
It was coming along at a terrible pace,
and we knew right then it was the end of the race.
As it streaked by our side, we looked the other way,
but, the crew of the cruiser had nothing to say.
For there going by was a Reserve JG,
pushing a hopped up LST !
