Come gather
round me lads and I'll tell you a thing or two, about the way we ran the Navy
in nineteen forty-two.
When wooden
ships and iron men were barely out of sight,
I am going
to give you some facts just to set the record right.
We wore the
ole bell-bottoms, with a flat hat on our heads, And we always hit the sack at
night, We never "went to bed".
Our uniforms
were worn ashore, and we were mighty proud. Never thought of wearing civvies,
in fact they were not allowed.
Now when a
ship puts out to sea, I'll tell you son--it hurts! When suddenly you notice
that half the crew's wearing skirts.
And it's
hard for me to imagine, a female boatswains mate, Stopping on the Quarterdeck
to make sure her stockings are straight.
What
happened to the KIYI brush, and the old salt-water bath Holy stoning decks at
night — cause you stirred old Bosn's wrath!
We always
had our gedunk stand and lots of pogey bait. And it always took a hitch or two,
just to make a rate.
In your sea
bag all your skivvies were neatly stopped and rolled.
And the
blankets on your sack had better have a three-inch fold.
Your little
ditty bag ...It is hard to believe just how much it held.
And you
wouldn't go ashore with pants what hadn't been spiked and belied.
We had
scullery maids and succotash and good old S.O.S. And when you felt like topping
off—you headed for the mess.
Oh we had
our belly robbers —but there weren't too many Wipes.
For the deck
apes were never hungry and there were no starving snipes.
Now you hear
of Davey Jones, Shellbacks or Polliwags, And you never splice the main brace to
receive your daily grog-
Now you
never have to dog a watch or stand the main event. You never tie your lines
today —back in my time then were bent.
We were all
two-fisted drinkers and no one thought you sinned,
If you
staggered back aboard your ship, three sheets to the wind.
And with
just a couple hours of sleep you retained your usual luster.
bright eyed
and bushy tailed--you still made morning muster.
Rocks and
shoals have long since gone, and now it's U.C.M.J. Then the old man handled
everything if you should go astray.
Now they
steer the ships with dials, and I wouldn't be surprised,
If some day
they sailed the damned things --from the beach computerized.
So when my
earthly hitch is over, and the good Lord picks the best,
I'll walk
right up to Him and say," Sir, I have but one request.
Let me sail
the seas of Heaven in a coat of Navy blue.
Like I did
so long ago on earth —way back in nineteen forth-two."
Written by a
World War Two Sailor by the name of LTJG Don Ballard who joined the Navy in
1935 when he received $21.00 per month …
