Bosun’s B.V.D.’s
Our
Bos’n is a salty man, no man has greater fame.
Until
one day his shorts were stolen
An
on us he put the blame.
Us
Navy boys are honest lads
As salty as can be.
And
we don’t give a damn
What
happened to his B.V.D’s
This
salty man so I am told has sailed the sea for many a month.
But
before he finds his shorts so old
He
will have to hunt and hunt.
The
Bos’n shorts are a mystery still
And
he can’t find anyone to pay the bill
So
don’t look at us, Bos’n mate
For
they are the few things the Navy hasn’t ate
-Robert S. Castle, Jr.,
S.S. Powder River 1944, S.S. John H. Reagan 1945
I
saw them coming, like two small birds that were intent
on
catching and killing some insect.
As
they drew nearer,
they became big, fast, noisy, loud, dirty and hot.
Those
small birds soon became two man made monsters
that were intent only on killing each other.
I
had hope that with all the wide blue sky to choose from
that they would not have to choose me.
But
they did, and there is nothing that I can do about it now,
by
all means not now.
I’ve
been torn apart, cut up and butchered.
My
white clouds that were placed in my care
Are
now scattered for miles and my air, still rings
with the echoes of the screams of both man and machine.
Gun
smoke and the smell of death still hang with death
like stillness throughout my being.
I
can only hope that my friends, the winds, won’t be too long in coming to my
aide.
Only
they can gather my lost clouds and bring them back together once again.
Only
the winds can chase away that human smell that haunts me still.
And
only nature and God can soothe me and help me to understand the ways of man.
-Robert S. Castle, Jr.,
S.S. Powder River 1944, S.S. John H. Reagan 1945