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In memory of the seven men killed in the after fire room explosion in USS Basilone (DD-824) on 5 February 1973 We live in holes, Each one named, Bravo One, Bravo Two, Bravo Three, Bravo Four. There are others, But none are MAIN, The rest are AUX. We work at pressure, Six hundred pounds, Eight hundred plus Degrees, That's Fahrenheit, Folks. People like To visit Our world. Makes them, Feel special, They see a world, They don't dare Live in, And they leave, Before they Sweat too much. Come again, But not too often, Have a salt tablet. We're the only sailors, Who must Use our gear, Twenty-four hours A day. Try letting the fires Go out In the Boiler. See what Happens. The girls, Topside, Would miss their Movie. They'd, Be agitated. Did we use that Word? Well, Have a salt tablet. We say that Down here is where The real men live, That all the rest, Are ******* It's a lie, But, It hides how hard Life is, In the Steam world. It's six hours Of watch, Six hours Of sleep, Six hours Of watch, Six hours Of sleep, Unless, Something Needs fixing, Or We're refueling, Or, We're getting ready, To enter port, Or, Something else Is happening, Then there's - No sleep. There's no sun Anyway. You wanna see Sun? Look through The scope, At the Stack gas. It's a world of Valves And, Burners, And, Sight glasses and, Pumps and, Pipes and, Gauges everywhere. A new guy, Wonders, How to learn Them all. It's an, Incomprehensible Forest. And then, You get to Know it. Now some other guy, Is the, New guy. It's often a Rain forest, 120 degrees, That's Fahrenheit, Folks. 95 per cent Humid, Since you're visiting, Come help us, Find Steam leaks. But, Keep your head Down. Steam is clear, You won't See it, Before it Cuts you, In half. We'll use brooms, Instead. Just wave them overhead, Along the pipes. Have a salt tablet. The steam Snakes all about The ship. They need it To live. Not just the Wake, But, Heat, Light, Water. All life, Comes from The boiler. You'd think they'd Appreciate Us. The Navy says, It's worried about, Our heat stress, (It's only 120) And our hearing, They want us, Out of The heat, More often, Nice. Who will keep The lights on? Maybe they'll Start a new, “Program.” Do the paperwork, And just Keep us in The hole. We've been down here, So long, We can't Hear 'em, Anyway. Have another salt tablet, And go back, To your regular job, Topside.
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Dec 28, 2011
Dec 28, 2011 at 10:21 AM UTC
Steam World
In memory of the seven men killed in the after fire room explosion in USS Basilone (DD-824) on 5 February 1973 We live in holes, Each one named, Bravo One, Bravo Two, Bravo Three, Bravo Four. There are others, But none are MAIN, The rest are AUX. We work at pressure, Six hundred pounds, Eight hundred plus Degrees, That's Fahrenheit, Folks. People like To visit Our world. Makes them, Feel special, They see a world, They don't dare Live in, And they leave, Before they Sweat too much. Come again, But not too often, Have a salt tablet. We're the only sailors, Who must Use our gear, Twenty-four hours A day. Try letting the fires Go out In the Boiler. See what Happens. The girls, Topside, Would miss their Movie. They'd, Be agitated. Did we use that Word? Well, Have a salt tablet. We say that Down here is where The real men live, That all the rest, Are ******* It's a lie, But, It hides how hard Life is, In the Steam world. It's six hours Of watch, Six hours Of sleep, Six hours Of watch, Six hours Of sleep, Unless, Something Needs fixing, Or We're refueling, Or, We're getting ready, To enter port, Or, Something else Is happening, Then there's - No sleep. There's no sun Anyway. You wanna see Sun? Look through The scope, At the Stack gas. It's a world of Valves And, Burners, And, Sight glasses and, Pumps and, Pipes and, Gauges everywhere. A new guy, Wonders, How to learn Them all. It's an, Incomprehensible Forest. And then, You get to Know it. Now some other guy, Is the, New guy. It's often a Rain forest, 120 degrees, That's Fahrenheit, Folks. 95 per cent Humid, Since you're visiting, Come help us, Find Steam leaks. But, Keep your head Down. Steam is clear, You won't See it, Before it Cuts you, In half. We'll use brooms, Instead. Just wave them overhead, Along the pipes. Have a salt tablet. The steam Snakes all about The ship. They need it To live. Not just the Wake, But, Heat, Light, Water. All life, Comes from The boiler. You'd think they'd Appreciate Us. The Navy says, It's worried about, Our heat stress, (It's only 120) And our hearing, They want us, Out of The heat, More often, Nice. Who will keep The lights on? Maybe they'll Start a new, “Program.” Do the paperwork, And just Keep us in The hole. We've been down here, So long, We can't Hear 'em, Anyway. Have another salt tablet, And go back, To your regular job, Topside.
gary-l-misch
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gary-l-misch
American
Dec 28, 2011
Dec 28, 2011 at 10:21 AM UTC
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