Bronstein (FF 1037) - Naval Cruise Book

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Above: HTl Rivas gets some well deserved rest Above: MR3 Wales and HT2 Jacobser down in the HT Shop Above: HT3 Lindsey burns some rod down in the HT Shop, Right Top- HT2 Ellsworth cuts some plate for an- other ■ iWR Right: When MR3 wasn ' t working on the lathe or engrav- ing machine he was always trying to get the shop to look r ice - they do a good job - and this past year took the departmental DC Award for BRONSTEIN ' S Engineering Department. 12

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1 ENS B.E. Barrington D.O. Damage Control Assistant R-DIVISION HTl R. Rivas Leading Petty Officer The repair division consists of nine men whose main responsibilities consist of repair of the ships hull structure, and maintenance of damage control gear. They do brazing, welding, pipe layout, and lathe operation. They also oversee all fire- fighting and damage control evolutions. Above from left to right: ENS B. Harrington, HTFN D. Toney, HTFN W. Lindsey, HTl(SW) D. Rolph, HT2 D. Jacobsen, HTl R. Rivas, HT3 L. Sahagun, HT2 G. Ellsworth, MR3 M. Wales, HTl J. Beggs 31

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w THE ENGINEER ' S LAMENT Now each of us from time to time Has gazed upon the sea And watched the warships pulling out To keep our country free And most of us have read the book Or heard the lusty tale About the men who sail these ships Through lightning wind and hail But there ' s a place within each ship I Of which stories never teach And there ' s special breed of men That legends rarely reach It ' s down below the water line It takes a living toll A hot metallic hell down there That sailors call the hole It houses engines run by steam Which makes the shafts go ' round A place of fire and noise and heat That beats your spirits down Where boilers like a devil ' s heart With blood of angry steam Are armored Gods without remorse Make nightmares out of dreams A threat from out of their fire roars Like a living moan of doubt Anytime those flames could burst In scorn, escaping and seeking you out. The turbines scream like tortured souls Alone and lost in hell As ordered from somewhere above They answer every bell The men who keep the fires lit And make the engines run Are strangers to the world of night Yet rarely see the sun They have no time for man or God No tolerance of fear No reason to pay any living thing The tribute of a tear For there ' s not much that men can do That these men haven ' t one Beneath the decks deep in the hole To make the engines run And every hour of every day They keep the watch in hell For if the fires should ever fall Their ship ' s a useless shell When ships converge to go to war Upon an angry sea The men below just grimly smile At what their fate might be For they ' re locked below like men foredoomed Who will hear no battle cry And it ' s well assumed that if they ' re hit The men below will die. But there ' s not much difference down below That war would ever bring For threats of ugly violent death Down there ' s a common thing Everyday there ' s a war down there When the gauges all read red And six-hundred pounds of heated Steam, can kill you mighty dead.