|
The Rookie
By: Stephen
Lythgoe
A man in a white hat, he came up to me
With an arm full of gold stripes and an eagle set free.
"By the cut of your jib boy", he said onto me
You'd make a good sailor in the US Navee
So off to Great Lakes, a bus I did take
With coffee and cookies and a piece of mom's cake.
Then when I arrived and got through the main gate
I suddenly realized I'd made a mistake.
A grizzled old Chief, he yelled in my ear
"That's a deck not a floor. Do I make myself clear?
The wall is a bulkhead, your bed is a rack.
Now stow all your gear before I get back."
We drilled and shined boots, tied knots and form filled.
And learnt all about all those nautical skills.
The port and the starboard, the fore and the aft
And how to clean heads, swab decks and shape hats.
And then on the last day we stood on parade
With Admirals and Captains all covered in braid.
The Admiral stood up and through loud hailers
Said, "Congratulations, you're United States sailors".
I stood in my dress blues with stars on my collar
My cover squared straight, then a whoop and a holler.
I felt so proud being in the US Navee
To defend America and let the eagle fly free.
As I got high marks and I am no fool
So they sent me off to gunnery school.
Then after some training I learnt of my fate
A rack in a battleship named after my state.
So off to Norfolk to join my new ship
And meet my new shipmates and a buddy called "Chip".
We stand in divisions in the heat of the day, it's
an inspection on this Saturday. Steams up, anchors aweigh!
Those shipmates, they josh me by night and by day
They call me "The Rookie" and spades we do play.
There's "Old Jake" the cowboy, a Texan by birth
And Vinnie from New Jersey, a salt of the earth.
"There's Jack from St. Louie, a pitcher by trade, who
talks about baseball and the games he has played".
And then there's young "Sweet pea" who's younger than me,
Who cleans up the mess deck when its all free.
He often gets sea sick on doughnuts he's robbed
Then heaves them all up on the deck he's just swabbed.
Those turrets are hard work. Those shells take their toll
But better than being a snipe down the hole
Those stokers they labour, shoveling coal
And never get topside when the ship takes a roll.
So here's to the boys who wear navy blue
Who defend America and protect you.
Of Farragut and Halsey to name but a few
Who man those grey warships on a sea of blue.
From Tripoli to Midway wherever they may be
Who's flag on the jack staff says "Don't Tread on Me"
The Sailors of America let the eagle fly free.
Stephen Lythgoe resides in Kirkby, (Liverpool) England. He served
as a Lance Corporal in the British army as a combat engineer and a postal and
courier communications operator from 1969 to 1975, with tours with the British
Army of the Rhine. Detached to 34 Engineer Regiment in Quebec near the end of
his enlistment. A life long interest in ships, the Navy and the sea result in
his poems of the branch of service he often wishes he had served in.
|
