On civvie street they's floggin'a quaint notion
That sez ROLAIDS spell relief,
But here on deck, midst the heavin' ocean
the first cry heard is Ask the Chief.
A cry that sets events in rapid motion
Ere the Captain brings on grief,
O'that we've had our quotient.
An impatient voice - Where's that Chief.
The BM o'the watch turns to run,
As by lightnin' he's been struck,
Anon, reports the OOD - The Chief can't come?
He's down below, lookin' for his coffee mug
A hush descends, still as the settin' othe sun,
The Old Man, red faced, maybe his bib has come unstuck,
Raps out, the words now quick and loud, begun -
I said, Mister get him up!
The rascal's hauled from nether quarters
To face the CO, who eyes him, hot but brief -
I won't countenance slow starters
On this ship. Are you with me, Chief
A sharp salute, defiant grin, this deef martyr,
O'him we've seen the last, is my belief,
Pipes up out hero, like a lamb afore the slaughter -
Without me morin' mud I'm as useless as this tub,
squattin' high and dry, run up some loonely reef.
Last preventive maintenance on this page December 30, 2005.