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Lingayen
Lament
By F. A. Rhorman, RM2c
This is the story of a squadron of cans,
Now listed by the navy as, “Also rans.”
Once we all were a great fighting team,
But now we’re assigned to the Lingayen screen.
Patrol all night patrol all day,
Hardly ever in port do we lay.
East to west, then come about,
In to fuel, then right back out.
Work all day, then have some drills too,
Then at night, bogies, GQ.
The nights are long, the days are too,
But you know there’s always work to do.
Everything is slow, including the speed,
When once we were known as, “Twenty knot Meade.”
The mail situation is definitely bad,
January, I think, the last we had.
It’s almost impossible to get supplies,
They’re all going to other fighting GI’s.
The crew is moody, sullen, and glum,
Because of this same monotonous run.
From the Captain on down, it’s plain to see,
We’d all much rather be at sea.
But the commander of this important base,
Says, JIG patrol is our rightful place.
Some day, I believe, they’ll let us go,
I’ve got a feeling, but I really don’t know.
We’ll stick it out, try not to complain,
After all this duty is not in vain.
We’re helping to bring victory in a very small way,
And it’s coming closer with each passing day.
This is my story of Desron Fourteen,
And other cans of this patrolling screen.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not singing the blues,
I’m just expressing some of my views.
I’m not a writer, or even a good poet,
And I guess by now all you guys know it.
So I’ll end this poem right here and now
Before it gets out of hand and starts a row.
Here’s some dope I’ve just been tole,
Tomorrow may be our “Last
Patrol”.
Courtesy of Robert M. Seamans, USS Meade.
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