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Page 19 text:
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3rd DIVISION The Gunner ' s Mates provide the defense for the rest of the crew while we carry out our own duties. During our first stop in Subic Bay they demonstrated their prowess on the 3 50 guns by scoring an excellent on the firing rang e. This made the ship ' s company much more comfortable during the passage through the Straits of Hormuz. While in the Persian Gulf our defense requirements were so great that the ship augmented the gunner ' s with new and inexperi- enced personnel. During the tran- sit, training was their main prior- ity and, by the time we reached the Gulf we had enough qualified sail- ors to man both gun mounts and several .50 cal. machine guns ' round the clock. Once out of the high threat area they were able to slow down their pace and prepare to show off their equipment to in- habitants of the various island countries visited during SOPAC. GMGi SMITH 7 ;mg3 smith SN FREY ».X
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Page 20 text:
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THE ENGINEER ' S LAMENT (author unknown) Now each of us from time to time, has gazed upon the sea And watched the warships pulling out, to keep this country free. And most of us have read the book, or heard the lusty talk About the men who sail these ships, through lightning, wind, and hail. But there ' s a place within the ship, that stories never reach And there ' s a special breed of men, that legends rarely teach. It ' s down below the waterline, it takes a living roll . . . A hot metallic hell, that sailors call the hole . It houses engines run by steam, that make the shafts go round A place of fire and noise, and heat, that beat your spirits down. Where boilers like a hellish heart, with blood of angry steam Are armored God ' s without remorse, are nightmares in a dream. Whose threat from the fires roar, is like a living doubt That any minute would scorn, escape and crush you out. Where turbines scream like tortured souls, alone and lost in hell As ordered from above somewhere, they answer every bell. The men who keep the fires lit, and make the engines run Are strangers to the world of night, and rarely see the sun. They have not time for man or God, no tolerance for fear There aspect pays no living thing, the tribute of a tear For there ' s not much that men can do, that these men have not done Beneath the decks, deep in the hole, they make the engines run. And every hour of every day they keep the watch in Hell For if the fires ever fall, their ship ' s a useless shell. When ship ' s converge to have a war, upon an angry sea The men below just grimly smile at what their fate may be. They ' re locked below like men foredoomed, who hear no battle cry It ' s well assumed that if they ' re hit, the men below will die. There ' s not much difference down below, that every war may bring For threat of ugly violent death, down there ' s a common thing. For every day ' s a war down there, when the gauges all read red Six hundred pounds of heated steam, can kill you mighty dead. So every man down in the hole, has learned to hate so well That when you speak to them of fear, their laughter is heard in Hell. The men below are fools who watch, their spirits slowly die Who can ' t often remember how, a cloudy sky looks. So if you ever wrote their song, or tried to tell their tale The very words would make you hear, a desperate spirits wail. And people, as a general rule don ' t hear a dying soul So little is heard about this place, that sailors call the hole . But I can sing about this place, and try to make you see The hopeless life of men down there, cause one of them is me . And I ' ve been down there so long, that part of me has died The part that lives on without light, to be a lost hopes guide. I ' ve seen these sweat soaked hero ' s fight, in superheated air To keep their ship alive and right, though no one knows they ' re there. So when you see a ship pull out, to meet a warlike foe Remember faintly, if you can, the men who sail below 16
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